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Peter sighed with content as he finished up the last of his water, the cool liquid calming him after the spar.
It was late in the afternoon, a couple hours before dinner, and the glass walls of the training floor looked out over the slowly darkening outline of New York City. Peter spared a moment to enjoy the skyline, which would be his way back home later.
“You okay?” came a voice from behind him. Tony. He had been watching the spar between Peter and Steve over the security cameras. When the spar had finished -neither one managing to get the upper hand- he had walked down to the training floor partially to check on the kid and partially to gloat to Steve that he hadn't been able to take the kid down.
Peter grinned, embarrassed at the realization that Tony had been watching. “Of course, Mr. Stark! It was actually really fun.”
He was practically buzzing with adrenaline, but at the same time completely worn out. The spar had lasted a whole ten minutes, and Peter had been severely hampered by the 'No Powers' rule. Yes, there was no way to hold abc super strength- so that had been allowed. But no climbing on the walls, using the webs or Steve’s shield- that sort of thing. So the fight had ended in a draw, because while Peter was physically stronger than Steve, he had less experience and hadn’t actually fought Steve before, meaning he had no idea how to easily take him down. Though, he gave himself a mental pat on the back at managing to hold off Captain freakin' AMERICA.
That's when Steve walked over from his bench, a sweaty towel hanging over his shoulders and a water bottle dangling from his hand.
“You did good, kid,” he said to Peter, a large smile on his face. “You almost had me there for a second.”
Tony let out a small laugh. “More than a second, I'd say, Capsicle.”
“Well, it was a pretty evenly matched fi-”
“Oh come on, just admit my kid almost beat you.”
“Really, Tony?”
“You know I'm right, Capsicle. My kid beat the shi-”
“Language.” Steve had an exasperated expression.
Peter chose not to intervene, instead standing there as the two threw teasing insults at each other. Inside, though, he could barely breathe through his laughter. He was used to it by now, with his regular visits to the tower after mission briefings and sparring lessons. Most of the rest of the team literally had an ongoing competition on how fired up they could get Steve. Tony, of course, held the record after he had annoyed him for some random thing. Clint came in a close second, after somehow convincing Steve that he didn't pay his taxes. Peter found it all hilarious, though felt a little bad for Steve, which is why he decided to intervene.
“Mr. Stark-”
Tony cut him off, rolling his eyes with a small smile. “I thought I told you not to call me that, kid.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. Can't help it,” Peter responded with a sheepish smile. He had no intention of calling Tony anything else. Ever. . . partially because it annoyed the older man so much, if he were completely honest. “Anyway, shouldn't we be going to the mission briefing for tomorrow? I think it's supposed to happen in a couple minutes.”
Steve muttered a curse as he checked his watch.
“Language , Cap,” Tony admonished him with a gleeful smirk. Turning to Peter, he became a bit more serious. “Yeah. We should probably go now. It’ll place us just within the line of fashionably late, before the line of Natasha Will Kill Us.”
Peter snickered and grabbed his water bottle, following Tony and Steve out of the training floor and up towards the briefing room.
Peter already knew most of the floors in the Avengers Tower, some better than others, but this was the most well known for him. He attended briefings almost weekly, for different threats the Avengers ended up taking down. Spider-Man wasn't always on the mission, but he went to the meetings anyway, just in case. Sometimes they would decide he was needed, and then it was helpful to have already learned anything he was expected to know. He liked to stay informed, and Tony dared anyone to object. The rest of the team had been cowed by his glare from behind Peter after their first and only objection. Even Nat had shied away a bit, which had almost made Tony lose his severe expression in favor of a laugh.
So, as Peter entered the room behind Tony and Steve, there wasn't a single objection from anyone in the room. There were a couple welcoming waves, but beyond that no one paid attention.
The rest of the Avengers were all seated around the conference table, staring at the holograms on the air above them. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had projected everything about the mission over the table in the usual blue glow, allowing any member to ruffle through the information however they wanted. Currently, all the people were sitting back in their seats, not moving an inch. They seemed to be waiting for Steve and Tony.
“There you are,” Natasha crossed her arms, giving away some of her displeasure. “You're late.”
Tony twirled his chair around, sliding into it as it came to a stop. “It's what I like to call fashionably late, Nat.”
Bruce interrupted from his seat across the table. “Where were you?”
“Sparring,” Steve explained, gesturing to Peter as he took a place next to Bucky. Peter was left with the empty chair next to Bruce, which he took happily, thankful to be next to the least scary person here. Well, least scary at the moment.
“Doesn't matter now,” Clint interrupted. “I want to get through this before dinner. If I don’t get home soon, Lucky’s gonna chew through my couch.”
Steve nodded, and stood up, pushing back his chair to reach the holograms over the table.
“This is our mission: the recent shipment of HYDRA weapons, likely to land at the docs at midnight in three days. S.H.I.E.L.D. caught word of them weeks back, and it seems to be a pretty high-up thing. Overseen by some of the higher positions in HYDRA.”
Peter examined the hologram representation of the docks in front of him, looking over the familiar shapes. Predictably, lots of shady stuff went down there, which led to him knowing the area well due to his frequent visits. The hologram was accurate, based on what he remembered.
“So. In three days' time, we're going to intercept the shipment before it can unload into the city.”
There were a few murmurs around the table. The only people there were Bucky, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Tony, Peter and Sam. Thor was off-world, Sam had work that week, and Bruce was taking a break from going on missions as anything but the medic or tech guy. So there weren't really that many options for who was actually going.
“I'll be taking the lead on this one,” Steve said in a hard voice. He always took point in anything related to HYDRA, so no one questioned him. “I'll take Nat and Peter, with Tony and Clint as backup. Any questions?”
Peter looked up in surprise at the knowledge that he was going to go. Something didn't sit right with him though, and he was silent for a moment before voicing it.
“How many operatives are expected?” He asked, frowning at the hologram of the docks.
Steve nodded. “Good question. The ship will contain about forty crew members, and we don't know how many are meeting them at the docks.”
Clint looked troubled now too. “That's a little much for only the four of us to take on, even with my arrows. Sure, we could do it, but it would result in a few too many injuries for my liking. We want it to be as clean and quiet as possible. You know how much the people would freak out if they knew HYDRA was unloading weapons in their backyard?”
Tony nodded in agreement. He didn't like the idea of Peter being involved in something this dangerous, not without him. He knew Steve would never let anything happen to the kid, but he still wasn't too reassured. “Do we have anyone else we can call? We need someone else. I can understand me and Clint being backup, but you need a few more ground fighters, Cap. Bruce is out on this one, Nat has a mission for Eyepatch next week, and Bucky is still recovering from the last mission.”
Last mission had ended with a bullet to the White Wolf's leg, and, though he’d tried to hide it, the rest of the team could tell how much it still hurt. Bucky looked up indignantly at Tony as he said that, but Steve raised an eyebrow at him, and he leaned back in this chair, accepting that Tony was right.
Nat spoke up suddenly. “What about Daredevil?” she asked, voicing the thoughts running through Peter's head. “This seems close to what he normally deals with. He’ll be a good replacement for me- we have similar fighting styles.”
Bucky looked at her, confused. “Who is that?”
Peter addressed Bucky. “The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen,” he explained. “A vigilante in the Kitchen. He works during the night, mostly small things, but every once in a while something bigger like this.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “You forgot to mention that he does it literally by himself,” he added in an undertone. “Freaking scary, that guy is.”
Clint let out a huff of laughter. “He is kinda scary.”
Steve frowned. “He’s violent, is what he is. He doesn't kill anybody, but the people left after his attacks? They probably won't ever fully heal.”
Internally, Peter scoffed. Like Steve doesn’t kill people.
Nat looked like she was contemplating something. “Sure, he may be violent. But the people he hurts? They deserve it. They're the worst of the worst. And you have to admit, he’s efficient at what he does. As far as I can find, he’s been at the scene of almost every big, criminal nighttime takedown.”
Bruce is nodding. “He helped take down Wilson Fisk. The papers went crazy about it for a while.”
“Always hated that guy,” Tony muttered with a grimace.
There were a lot of conflicting emotions between everyone in the room about Daredevil. But, Peter summed it up, they all consisted of two main points: they were a little scared of Daredevil, but knew he could help get the job done.
That was when Sam spoke up from the other end of the oval table, drawing everyone’s attention. “But how do we contact him?”
Everyone paused for a moment, and Peter was about to speak up, but Clint beat him to it. “Supposedly, all you have to do is call his name and he’ll be there.”
Peter could’ve sworn he saw Tony shiver, and barely kept down a smile. “Ooor I can just text him, Mr. Stark.”
Everyone in the room fell silent and looked over at Peter. He flushed at the attention of everyone in the room, and was thankful when Tony took the attention off of him. . . by yelling.
“Peter? Why do you have the number of the most violent vigilante in New York!?”
Peter frowned, confused at the reaction of his teammates. “He's actually really nice, Mr. Stark.”
Steve was speechless, watching Peter like Peter had told him he personally called the President every day. “What- why-” he spluttered, and Peter could see Bucky smirk at Steve’s inability to speak.
Peter pulled his phone out of his back pocket, opening it and scrolling to DD’s contact. Quickly, he typed up a message asking if Matt would meet him tomorrow night. As he did so, all the Avengers watched. Tony leapt up from his chair, walking over to Peter and reading over the boy’s shoulder as he sent the message.
“Kid, please explain why you have Daredevil’s number. He’s . . . the Man Without Fear! You’re the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man! He’s too dangerous!”
Peter just laughed, glancing down at the phone. “He’s not dangerous to me. In fact, I think the most dangerous thing he’s ever done to me is threaten to get me some hot pink bandages.”
He tilted the phone up to Tony, scrolling up to the last message from Daredevil.
Peter, do you need anything from the grocery store while I'm here?
The Avengers looked concerned as Tony appeared to have a heart attack. Even more concerning was the fact that Peter was just giggling.
“He says he can come talk tonight, Mr. Stark.”
((The fight went well, Daredevil having immediately joined in after a few words from Peter. He was a bit confused at why the Avengers’ heart rates kept spiking around him, even more than usual. When he asked Peter, he was only met with a fit of giggles, which just served to confuse him more.))
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“What should we watch tonight?” Clint asked from his perch on the recliner, a bag of chips in his hands. He popped one into his mouth as he waited for someone to answer.
“Do we even need to have a movie night?” that was Natasha, standing in the kitchen looking at something in a file, probably from Fury. She was ruffling through the pages, her red hair tied back in a complicated braid. Next to her was Tony, making himself a sandwich as a late lunch, having forgotten to eat while he was tinkering all night and morning. He had dark circles under his eyes, and Peter wasn’t sure when the last time he had slept had been. Judging by his face, not in the last three nights.
Steve was on the couch, sketching in the notebook he never went anywhere without. He looked up at Nat’s question, closing the book. “Of course. It’s a good team building exercise.”
“Cap, I don't think we need a movie night to be a good team,” Bruce pointed out. He was writing in some files, to Tony's despair. Multiple times Tony had tried to get Bruce to do it all online, but Bruce had adamantly stuck with the paper version.
Peter spoke up from his spot in the corner of the glass room, the sun warm on his back. He liked to be in a place where he could see the whole room. “I think it’s fun. What else do you need to do anyway? It’s not like we’re busy this week.”
Clint nodded. “So, back to my original question.”
Peter thought he heard Nat sigh, but she had a small smile on her face. She enjoyed these little get-togethers just as much as the rest of them, though she hid it well.
Around once a week, the Avengers and any other close friends would have a small event of some kind, separate from the mission briefings and training. Sometimes it would be a pool party, or a group trip somewhere. Most common though was a movie night. They would order pizza and watch a movie all together. All types of movies had been suggested, but they somehow almost always ended up with a Disney movie.
“Well, here are the rules.” Nat said from the kitchen area. “No horror, Steve gets scared. No murder mysteries, Bucky likes to analyze the crime scene. No animals dying, Tony doesn't want you to see him cry. And no tragedies, because the one time we watched the Fault In Our Stars, all of us left crying.”
“So . . . a Disney movie.”
Tony laughed. “Pretty much. Except the heartbreaking ones, Lion King and Inside Out are banned after the last time..”
Peter was looking out the window, watching as cars moved along the streets of the city. He could see the tiny forms of people, hurrying to get where they needed to go. It was the middle of summer, so no one was particularly happy to be out and about. Peter silently thanked the air conditioning in the tower. He had been at school all day, so he hadn’t really been out in the heat, but it was bound to be humid tonight, when he was likely to go patrolling, depending on when the movie ended.
“Well, the last one of those we watched was Brave, at Clint’s suggestion,” Tony said, having finished making his sandwich. He walked over to Peter, standing next to him with his back to the window as he ate. “Which one this time, guys?”
“How about a Star Wars movie?” Peter said, snickering under his breath.
Everyone in the room collectively sighed. That was Peter's usual suggestion, and they had yet to go with it. Plus, it didn't completely fit with the rules (Rouge One definitely wasn't allowed). But Peter was excited about it, and it was hard to deny him anything. Even Nat had a hard time with that.
There was a slight buzzing sound on the coffee table, and Steve grabbed the phone that had been sitting there. He raised his eyebrows.
“Peter, you have seventeen missed calls from a . . . ‘Crazy Pool Man’? And twelve missed messages from . . .‘Catholic Guilt’. Oh- he’s calling you again.”
Peter blanched and walked over to Steve, a worried expression on his face. Everyone watched with curiosity as he accepted the call, not even glancing at the screen.
“Hey! Spidey! What the hell, man!” came a voice from the phone. A man, definitely older than Peter judging by the voice.
Peter was frowning. “Wade? What's wrong? Are you hurt? What's happening? What dumpster are you two in this time?” he fired off the questions.
The Avengers were listening with barely-concealed confusion as there were a few cracking sounds on the call. Something akin to bones snapping, which would have been disturbing even without the chuckle that followed.
“Oh ya, 's all good,” the person on the phone said. What had Peter called him? Wade? “Well, actually, scratch that. I've already broken three bones and I don't feel like dyin’ again today. Not healthy to die more than five times a week, dude, even for a wonderfully competent person such as myself.”
Peter's expression went from concerned to exasperated, and he took a long breath. “What's going on? What about DD?”
“Oh, that idiot? He- SHI- AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Peter flinched at the loud noise, but didn’t seem to surprised by the turn in the conversation. The listeners were confused at his apparent lack of worry for Wade, who seemed to be getting attacked.
Abruptly, the scream stopped, replaced by the sound of someone running at full speed.
“Wade?” Peter prompted, a flat expression on his face.
“Oh shit, totes forgot you were on here,” Wade said between breaths. “Why the hell haven’t you been answering your damn-”
He was cut off by another voice on the phone, and a rough noise like the phone and been grabbed by someone else. “Peter.” The new voice stopped, followed by a few grunts and the obvious sound of a body falling to the floor. “Do you mind meeting us at the warehouse we were discussing last night? Wade and I got into some trouble here. We need backup.”
From far away came the sound of Wade yelling to the phone, “SPEAK FOR YOURSELF, YOU HELPLESS LITTLE RED NINJA. I'M DOING JUST FINE.”
From the sounds, he was definitely not joining ‘just fine’. They were overshadowed by the other man’s sigh of exasperation.
Peter was already grabbing his bag, tossing it over his shoulder and pulling his hoodie off, revealing his Spider-Man suit.
“Be there in a minute, DD. Hang in there and try not to murder Wade, okay?”
“No promises.”
With that the call ended. The room was silent for a moment as Peter tossed his phone into his bag and was about to head out the door, when Tony voiced everyone’s thoughts.
“Peter? What the hell was that?” he asked loudly, mouth still hanging partially open.
“Language,” Bucky muttered. Steve glared at him and Sam snickered.
The rest were all speechless, though Clint was smiling. He had recognized one of the voices on the other end of the phone, though he didn't know the other. As long as Daredevil was there though, he reasoned, Peter would be fine. So he didn't say anything.
“No time to explain. And, honestly, I don't know if there even is an explanation,” Peter said with a grin. He shrugged. “My life is pure chaos.”
The rest of the Avengers were left staring open-mouthed as Peter ran out the door.
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“Look alive!”
Peter swung around at the shout, just managing to dodge an arrow Clint had sent his direction. It sped past him and into one of the weird alien creatures they were fighting, effectively downing one that had been about to reach him.
“Thanks!” he called back to the archer as he shot a web towards the building opposite him. He used it to trip a few of the creatures, and Captain America promptly smashed them with his shield. But almost immediately, they were replaced with more. Peter sighed tiredly.
“How many of these guys are there?” Clint asked incredulously over the comms. He was busy taking down the ones Peter and Steve couldn’t reach. By Peter’s calculations, he had to be almost out of arrows now.
“I don't know. But we should be able to handle them. It will just take longer than we exp-” Cap cut off with a grunt as he had to dodge a long metal . . . weapon of some kind. Peter didn't really know where this week’s batch of aliens had come from, and their weapons were even more unfamiliar than usual. Their resident alien expert, Thor, was off-world at the moment, so they didn’t really have any information other than that the aliens had arrived in a small space ship and crash landed next to the Statue of Liberty. And, of course, they were violent and wanted to take over the world. You know. The usual.
What the hell even is my life, Peter thought exasperatedly as he ducked under a weapon and used his web to ram himself into the alien, boring him over into the concrete with pure force.
“Spider-Man!” Cap called from across the street, where he was being overwhelmed by around eight of the beings. Peter rushed over, wondering if he should call Bruce, or maybe Natasha. But they were both busy with work and he didn't want to bother them. So today it was only him, Cap and Clint.
“There,” Peter huffed as he took down four of the aliens who had been swarming steve. But four more had taken their place.
“Where the hell are they coming from?” Steve shouted.
“Language,” Clint said with a grin through the comms. Steve sighed, looking done with his lot in life.
“I’m never going to get rid of that,” he muttered as he ducked under another blow.
“Nope!” Peter grinned.
They were both surrounded, and though Clint was trying to give them an opening, it wasn’t working. There were too many of them to fight back easily.
Peter was getting ready to call in backup of some kind when the backup beat him to it.
“Need some help?” came a gruff voice from behind the aliens, who were facing them. Peter watched, relieved, as Matt cut through the ranks of aliens, shoving his way over to Peter. He must have heard the commotion- they were pretty close to the Kitchen.
“DD!” Peter cheered.
“HAVING A DATE WITHOUT ME? I’M HURT,” another familiar voice piqued up from across the street.
Peter rolled his eyes through the fighting. “You’re always hurt, Wade.”
“Yeah, but that’s physical, Baby Boy. This is emotional, which is wayyyyy worse,” Wade complained loudly.
Peter rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
There was a scoff heard over the din, and Peter was pretty sure Matt was shaking his head in fond exasperation.
“Hey Spidey, how did you do on that Spanish test last week?” That was DD, asking calmly as he cut through the aliens. It was weird to have Matt call him ‘Spidey’ and not just ‘Peter’, but they were in a public space, and if Matt was using the hero name that meant there were civilians nearby. Peter made a mental note to watch out for helicopters or newsmen.
“Uh, pretty great-” he cut off as he leapt over an alien. “¡Tu . . . tutoría realmente ayudó!”
“Y'all know I hate it when you leave me out,” Wade pouted from the other end of the street. "Why wasn't I invited?"
"Do you really think any learning would get done with you around?" DD fired back, which was a good point.
“I know a little Spanish! I could’ve helped!” Wade whined.
“You were on a job,” Peter reasoned.
“If you’d told me, lessons would’ve come first!” Wade informed them.
“We’ll tell you next time,” Matt sighed, reaching his hand out just in time to help fling Wade over the next alien, who was decapitated a second later.
“Peter, what the heck is going on?” Clint asked through the comms.
Peter just shrugged. He didn’t really have an explanation. This was just how Team Red worked. Quips and playful whining and questions were part of the routine. It kept the fighting bearable.
“Any plans for spring break?” DD asked, swinging his batons in a deadly arc.
“Not really,” Peter answered. “Hang out with friends. Help out at the tower.”
Matt nodded, a movement Peter barely caught through the fighting.
“That reminds me,” came Wade’s voice from behind him. Peter turned to see him cutting through the aliens with his katanas, about to reach Peter and Matt. “Did you get that ice cream I wanted at the store?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “How did anything I just said remind you of ice cream?”
“IDK, I was just thinking about ice cream.”
Peter and Matt, both all-too used to Wade, ignored the use of an abbreviation in a spoken conversation. Steve, however, muttered a question to Clint about what it meant over the comms.
Matt chuckled. “Yeah, he got the ice cream.”
“How would you even know? You didn't come over recently.” Peter slid under another alien, tripping it as he did so.
“I could smell it a few blocks away. Why would you even get it, anyway? It smells so sweet, I almost gagged. ”
Peter shrugged. “'Pool wanted it.”
“Fuck yeah, I do! You know how hard it is to find that flavor? It’s ridiculous,” Wade shouted.
A muttered “Language!” came from Cap a few yards away as he finished off the rest of the aliens in front of him.
He really isn't working very hard at getting rid of that, Peter observed amusedly.
There were only a few aliens left by now, and Peter finished them off quickly with a couple well-placed webs. Now the only people left were Matt, Wade, Peter, Steve and Clint, all of them bent over and wheezing. Clint’s wheezing sounded more like laughter than tiredness.
“Well, I have to go,” Matt told Peter. “Karen’s already mad enough at me, Don’t need to add ‘late to work’ to the list.”
Peter smirked. “Better get going, or I'll start planning your funeral.”
“I’d better be invited,” Wade added, swinging an arm over Peter’s shoulder.
Matt nodded, smiled, and turned around, jogging away from the dead aliens. After a few seconds he'd disappeared into the surrounding maze of buildings, probably already halfway back to the Kitchen.
“I gotta go too,” Wade said with a mock salute at Cap. “I have big plans tonight.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “If your big plans include stealing the ice cream in the middle of the night, at least say hi.”
“No promises, Spidey,” Wade said. And with that he was off, in the opposite direction of Matt. If Peter remembered correctly, one of his safehouses was near.
Peter sighed turning back to Steve- and Clint, who had climbed down the building and was now standing next to the two of them.
“What?” he asked with a smile, at their completely confused expressions.
“You buy ice cream for Deadpool?”
Peter burst into giggles.
“I don't see what’s funny,” Steve grumbled.
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Natasha was watching as Peter and Clint sparred, analyzing every minimal and monumental movement with expert eyes.
She was standing in the corner of the training room, in direct view of the spar in the middle of the room.
As she watched, Peter ducked under a punch, bringing his own fist up for a counter strike, and managed to catch the side of Clint's jaw. Clint grunted and sidestepped Peter's kick, elbowing him in the stomach. Peter doubled over, but caught himself just in time to avoid another punch.
“Give up?” Clint asked with a smirk.
Peter matched his expression, and swept his leg under Clint. The man toppled over, having no way to save himself with the position he’d been in before the attack.
“Nope. You?”
Clint chuckled from where he was laid flat on the ground. Nat noticed that he probably actually did hurt his back falling like that. But he pulled himself up and faced Peter again.
She cut in, walking over to them with one raised eyebrow. “You're doing good, Peter,” she told him.
Peter looked over at her, surprised. Nat didn't usually hand out compliments, so when she gave you one, you knew she truly meant it.
“You think?” he asked, grabbing a towel from behind him and patting down the sweat on his face. Clint did the same, both of them taking a drink of water.
“I do. In fact, I think it's time we started giving you hand-to-hand combat lessons.”
Peter’s mouth dropped open slightly.
Clint nodded. “I agree. You really are getting good, Peter- and you’ll only get better with actual lessons instead of spars.” He laughed and added, “Not that you could beat me, of course”
Peter smirked. “I almost had you, Mr. Hawkeye.”
Clint rolled his eyes at the kid’s stubborn refusal to be informal.
Peter was still hung up on what Nat had said. “You want to give me lessons?” he asked hopefully. “I don’t want to bother you, Miss Natasha. You’re busy with missi-”
“You wouldn’t be bothering me, Peter. I want to give you lessons.” She smiled. “And not just me. We can all take turns teaching you. Up until now, you only sparred with us. But if you truly want to get better, it will take lessons, not just tips during a spar.”
Peter was beaming. “That sounds awesome! Can we start now? I don't have any plans today.”
She nodded her approval at his eagerness.
“If you want,” she said with a smile. “I’ve been evaluating you during your spars, so you don’t have to give me a demonstration. Instead, I want you to attack me.”
Peter looked bewildered. “Attack you?”
She walked up onto the training platform, passing Clint who got off to watch from the sidelines.
“Do your best to land a hit on my face,” she instructed Peter, standing open to give him a chance.
Peter looked uncertain, but he brought his hands up in the form that Matt had taught him. Nat noticed this, and wondered where he had learned boxing from.
“I just . . . go?” he asked.
“Yes.”
As fast as he could, he lunged at her and tried to land a hit on her shoulder. It missed, blocked by her forearm. She tried to trip him, but he leapt over it and darted to try and get past her guard.
After a few blows traded back and forth, both were a little short of breath. Natasha was much more experienced, and had a better fighting style, but Peter had super strength, so every time he did manage to get a hit in, it hurt considerably more than usual.
Clint watched from the edge, eyebrows raised at how good Peter was. But it wasn't enough to beat Nat, he knew. And he was right.
Eventually, after around fifteen minutes, Peter hadn't managed to land a hit on her face. Nat put a hand up, calling for a stop.
Peter paused and let out a breath, his muscles aching. “How did I do?” he asked anxiously. He was worried he had done badly, given that she’s stopped the spar.
Natasha hadn't even broken out in a sweat, but she was out of breath, which was a major accomplishment for her opponent. Especially given that said opponent was only sixteen.
“Could be better,” she said. But she knew he had done really well, and wasn't going to be too harsh. “It's not your fault you couldn't do it. Even Steve can't get me when I'm at my best.”
Peter smiled. He was about to ask her if he needed to do anything else when she spoke again.
“Peter, where did you learn boxing? That was the form of a boxer.”
Peter frowned, trying to remember what she meant, but then his face cleared up in realization.
He had learned from Daredevil, or Matt Murdock. But he couldn't say that, so he went with the easier option.
“I have a neighbor whose dad was a boxer. He taught me a bit.”
Technically, it was true, if you considered anyone in the same city to be neighbors. Sadly, he didn’t live very close to Matt, but the walk (or swing) was always worth it.
She nodded, contemplating his answer. “Is he still teaching you?”
That time, Peter lied. “No,” he said with a rueful smile.
He was still being taught by Matt, just not in boxing, per say. More like . . . vigilante fighting. And it wasn't just Matt Murdock teaching Peter Parker. It was Daredevil teaching Spider-Man.
“Okay. I can work with that,” she decided. “Did your neighbor teach you anything else?”
Yeah. How to sneak up on people, where the hotspots for crime are, the best way to knock out a man, a little bit of meditation. How to cook a quesadilla so it gets cheesy in the middle.
“Uh. . . no, I don't think so!”
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It was pretty rare for the entire Team Red to be in a fight with the Avengers, so Peter relished the moment while he had it. Most of the Avengers were still very skeptical of Deadpool, since he was technically a mercenary/assassin. They had kinder feelings towards Daredevil, but Peter thought they were still a bit scared of the masked man, which made him want to laugh. Matt was one of the least scary people he knows. But they don't know him as anything other than the Devil, so he supposed it was understandable.
Today they were taking down a group of HYDRA operatives that had popped up in New York. It was bordering on being the Kitchen, so Matt had automatically been included. Deadpool just hadn’t wanted to miss out on the fun.
So there they were, fighting the HYDRA men, in a large compound at three am. Peter wondered tiredly if he would ever in his life get a full night's sleep. His imaginary Magic 8 Ball informed him it was not likely.
“Spidey! You good?” That was Matt, yelling from across the hall. Peter had just finished webbing up two of the operatives, and was now standing, swaying a bit, in the empty hallway. Daredevil was ahead, right behind the rest of the group. Peter had stayed behind to tie up the disabled men before any of them woke up.
“Yeah, just tired.” Peter reassured his mentor. Matt nodded, then tilted his head in that familiar gesture. He was listening to something.
Peter’s senses were enhanced, yes, but nowhere near as much as Matt’s. Matt still helped him to handle his own, but in matters such as this, Team Red deferred to Daredevil.
Peter was deathly silent, waiting for him to finish. After a few seconds, Matt straightened with a grim look on his face.
“We have to go,” he said. “They need some help ahead.”
Peter nodded and ran after him, both of them speeding down the hallway and into the main room where Cap, Natasha, Yelena, Wade, Clint and Kate were all fighting HYDRA men. Bucky had opted out on this one, Falcon was on another mission, Tony had a meeting for SI, and Bruce was in the labs, going over some samples they had taken from the last HYDRA base.
They were largely outnumbered, but they’d beaten worse before.
Without hesitation, Peter and Matt leapt into the fray, Peter shooting webs at the men closest to the walls and Matt swinging his fists in brutal strokes.
Peter ducked under a fist, dodging a taser held out by another man, and webbed them both to the wall. He then shot a web up to the ceiling, using it to leap over the next man and kicking him in the head.
“Sorry!” He shouted as one of his hits landed harder than he’d meant. He heard a bone snap, which hadn’t been his goal. He wasn't trying to make anyone a vegetable- though he didn’t stop Matt from doing so.
“Don't be sorry!” Matt yelled over the fighting from right next to him. “They were experimenting on children.”
Peter paled, and there was an extra amount of venom in his next punch. Screw this. Vegetables it is.
“Where are the children?” he asked.
“Down below. I need to get to them.”
They fought through the rest of the HYDRA operatives, and once every single one was down, Matt took off into another hallway. Wade looked questioningly at Peter, not having heard the conversation.
“He can hear the children,” Peter explained, darting off after their teammate. “We need to help him.”
Wade froze. “Childre- fuck.”
Both of them knew how this would affect Matt. Wade didn't question Peter, darting off after his two friends.
Daredevil could probably take down this entire base by himself. Peter didn’t question that. What he was worried about was Matt’s reaction to the children. The children would bring up some not-so-great memories for Matt, and when that inevitably happened, Peter and Wade needed to be there.
They’d only seen it happen once before.
It had been a situation much like this, except instead of HYDRA, it was an organization called the Hand. Peter had never even heard of them before that night, but Matt had called him and Wade for help, which had surprised them, because he almost never asked for help. So they’d gone, only to find Matt in a warehouse, on his knees, crying.
Peter had freaked out, thinking Matt was dying. Wade had been the one to realize what was wrong after seeing the small beds in the room, and the unconscious bodies of men in the hallway. He’d quickly pointed them out to Peter’ who had come to the same realization.
Matt had been unresponsive, shivering and muttering, sometimes screaming. It was a sensory overload, a result of the stress and horror of the night.
They had taken him home, called Foggy, and waited all night with Matt as he calmed down. It had been one of the scariest things Peter had ever seen, Matt breaking down like that. But they’d gotten through it, and Foggy had taught them how to help Matt if such a situation even happened again.
“What's happening?” Natasha asked sharply over the comms. Peter and Wade had left the others in the room, uncaring if they followed or not.
“They have children,” Steve explained. Peter could hear Natasha suck in a shocked and furious breath, and then everyone was following him and Wade into the hallway after Matt.
Peter got to the room first, just in time to see Matt knock a man out with a well-aimed elbow to the face, letting the HYDRA agent fall to the ground. He was breathing heavily with exertion, and blood ran down his already red suit. His gloved knuckles were stained with it.
In front of Matt were four children, all around seven or eight, huddled together in fear. Their clothes were practically rags, and Peter could see bruises on every visible part of skin. Peter gasped, and he could hear Natasha shaking in anger.
When the children looked over at Daredevil, Peter could see the recognition in their eyes. They knew him. It wasn’t a surprise, given that Matt was infamous here in the Kitchen.
Steve pushed his way in front of them, walking over to the children. He’s reattached his shield to his back, holding up his hands in a non-threatening manner.
It didn’t change how scary he looked, really. The children still looked at him in fear, not saying a thing. Peter couldn’t blame them.
“It’s okay, children,” Steve said in a kind voice. But again, the kids showed no change in their fear. They were small and skinny, holding on to each other tightly like Steve was going to reach over and rip them apart.
Peter’s heart clenched, and he found himself wishing he’d been harder on his opponents. He made a split second decision, and was about to take off his mask and walk over to the kids, but Matt beat him to it.
It was dark and dimly lit, so none of the Avengers could see Matt’s face, but the kids could. Matt knelt down, took off his helmet and reached out his hands to the kids.
“You're okay,” he said quietly, the rough voice of Daredevil gone and replaced with a soothing, kind one. “I’m not here to hurt you. You’re safe.”
The kids stood there, frozen for a second, before they rushed over to him, little hands around his shoulders, clinging to him. Matt let out a strangled breath and shoved his helmet back on before any of the Avengers could catch a glimpse of his face. Wade and Peter were fine, but Matt wasn’t going to risk the Avengers finding out his identity.
“Come on,” Steve said in a kind voice to the four children. He gestured to the others. “We’ll get you out of here.”
But the kids refused to leave Matt, clinging to his legs as he stood up. The masked man’s mouth was tilted into a grim line, and Peter guessed that if he could see his face, it would be scrunched in pain, anger and sadness.
Peter walked slowly over to the children, trying not to spook them. He bent down, holding out a hand for one of the kids to take.
“He’s okay,” Matt assured the kids. One of them reached out and took his hand slowly, gingerly.
Peter said in a forcefully bright voice, “You know who I am, right?”
“. . . you’re Spider-Man,” one of the boys said hesitantly.
Peter nodded. “That’s right. Come on, kiddo. We’re getting you out of here.” Latching onto the fact that they’d recognized Daredevil, he added, “Me and Daredevil- we came here to get out out.”
“Okay,” the little girl said in a small voice.
“Can I pick you up?” Peter asked. They would get out faster if they could carry the kid.
She nodded and Peter picked her up, settling her on his hip. She was hugging his neck tightly, as if afraid he would drop her.
Slowly, the two of the other kids left Matt, one going to Steve and the other to Kate. The superhero and vigilante both obliged, picking up the kids. Kate looked surprised that the girl had picked her, and slightly panicked, but Peter and CLint both sent her a reassuring nod.
Matt held the last one, a little boy with dark hair and a small gash on his cheek. He clutched the boy close, as if challenging anyone to ask him if he needed help. No one did.
They left the HYDRA compound without another word, silently making their way down the hallways and out into the night. They could see the street, lit with flickering lights and dubious illuminated billboards.
Peter pointed to the jet, which was landed in the concrete area in front of the compound.
“Wanna go in there?” he said to the girl. "Fly up in it?"
“Yeah,” she said, her voice a little stronger than before.
The Avengers piled into the jet, letting the kids go in first. Peter, having already handed the girl off to Natasha, who was in the jet, stopped when he realized that Matt had stayed behind.
The vigilante’s hands were trembling, his breath coming in uneven gasps.
The kids were all safe on the jet, but Peter knew it didn't help Matt.
He walked over to his friend, and only then did he realize just how bad it was. Matt’s whole body was shaking, his head craning. If Peter had to guess, his ears were ringing, and he probably couldn't hear a thing being said.
“Wade! Come here!” Peter whispered urgently trying to make it reach Wade without bebing too loud.
Wade ran out of the jet as quick as he could, the Avengers watching him go. Peter and Wade ignored their staring, more worried about their teammate.
“Oh shit,” Wade said quietly, immediately understanding what was happening. “What did Foggy say to do again?”
Peter reached out and put hand on Matt’s arm, gripping it tightly, letting him know he was there. There was no other way to reach him at the moment except touch, so that’s what they did.
“Is he okay?” Steve asked, walking up with the others behind them. Wade shoved them back, uncaring of their worry.
“Give us space,” the merc said gruffly, his joking manner gone. Surprised, they stopped in a semi-circle around the trio, watching as Peter rubbed circles on Matt's back in a comforting manner.
“You’re okay,” Peter reassured him. Matt sank to his knees, one hand going to Peter’s and the other going to the concrete, a grounding touch. He wasn’t speaking, coherent enough to understand it would do nothing, but Peter continued to.
“Be quiet,” Wade hissed at the surrounding Avengers. They frowned at him, confused- no one but Peter had said anything. But at Wade’s fierce glare they did as he ordered, standing as still as they could and barely breathing.
“Wade, there are headphones in the jet,” Peter whispered urgently to him. Wade realized what he was saying and darted off to the jet, where the kids were watching, confused and still slightly scared.
“Is Daredevil okay?” the dark-haired boy asked, worry evident in his little voice.
Wade smiled briefly. “He’ll be fine. Go get in your seats,” he told them as he grabbed one of the noise canceling headphone pairs from behind the seats. They did as he said, and he rushed back to Peter and Matt.
Peter grabbed the headphones from him, slipping them over Matt’s ears. The tension in Matt’s shoulders lessened slightly. Peter turned to the Captain.
“We need to get him home, but the jet will make it worse. You go. Wade and I can take it from here.”
“What's happening?” Steve asked, confused. Yelena, Clint and Natasha were no stranger to panic attacks, but they didn't know what was happening either- Daredevil was acting weird, even for a panic attack. None of them had any way of knowing it was because of his senses. Peter and Wade knew, though, and that was enough.
“Not important right now. Daredevil would want you to get the kids to safety. Let us deal with this,” Wade glared at the Avenger, not backing down.
“Let's go,” Natasha decided to intervene. “It isn't our business.”
“But if he's hurt-” Steve started, but a glare from the Black Widow cut him off. She herded them into the jet, but Peter and Wade didn’t watch as the jet took off towards Avengers Tower.
They both knelt down next to Matt, putting comforting hands on his shoulders, waiting for the worst of it to pass. After about half an hour, Matt had calmed down enough to be able to speak.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Can you-”
“We got you, buddy.” Wade promised him. “Let’s go home.”
They limped off towards Matt’s flat, holding Matt in between them.