Chapter Text
After a tumultuous Monday, the rest of Peter’s first week back to school, his first full week living with Tony and Pepper, had managed to pass smoothly. He hadn’t gone back to his and May’s old apartment again, almost afraid to look at what he’d done. Instead, he’d tried his best to focus on his classes, catching up on his assignments and getting ahead of study prep for their upcoming midterms. The enhanced teen tried not to think about the sounds of the city - the crimes he wasn’t stopping - that he heard as he commuted to and from school each day… but they were getting harder to ignore.
He’d promised Mr. Stark he’d give himself time to adjust to his new reality, though… and he had.
He’d waited for the other shoe to drop all week, but the eccentric billionaire hadn’t suddenly changed his mind about taking in a teenager he barely knew, like Peter had half expected. In fact, Mr. Stark had been very… present, for someone as busy as he was… Pepper too.
The inventor did work during the day while Peter was at school: he seemed to alternate between the lab at the Penthouse and the one at the Compound, “depending on what manufacturing equipment I need”, he’d told Peter one morning with a shrug while brewing a pot of coffee. Meanwhile, Miss Potts was usually either already gone or was getting ready to leave for SI’s New York office around the same time Peter was, dressed in a smart skirt suit and immaculately made-up to attend to the business’s needs as CEO.
The teen had mostly expected the power couple to ignore him while he was staying there - which would have been completely understandable and fine! But to his surprise, at least one of them was there when he got up in the morning, and both of them came home in the evenings. Considering most school days ended at 2:45pm, he always made it back to the penthouse earlier than they did, but each evening the couple was home by dinner time. Considering how notoriously chaotic and erratic Mr. Stark was, Peter was frankly shocked at how… normal they both were. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but… the normalcy of the last week wasn't it. To be frank, he was a little suspicious and secretly wondered if they were trying to create a sense of routine for his sake… But no, that couldn’t be it. Two of the most powerful people on the planet going out of their way like that for… him? Yeah right.
Regardless, the routine had truthfully been good for Peter; he’d been able to focus his senses better, easing the headache that had plagued him the first couple days back at school, and he’d regained his appetite… to his chagrin. The prior evening Pepper had tried not to stare when he went back for fourths of shawarma and rice, and he’d just grinned sheepishly. But considering they both knew his secret, he supposed there was no point in hiding his accelerated metabolism… and Mr. Stark always ordered way more food than they needed for some reason.
Despite the pangs of loss he still felt nearly constantly, by Thursday evening Peter was feeling relatively comfortable in Mr. Stark’s palatial living space, and he was more caught up on his schoolwork than he’d been in a while… Since the last time he’d taken a break from Spider-Man, after the “ferry incident”, actually. Being Thursday, he’d stayed a few hours after school for AcaDec practice and, checking his watch as he unlocked the main floor’s front door, he noticed it was almost dinner time anyway. He considered the remaining piece of homework he hadn’t finished during AcaDec practice with a sigh. The synopsis of his English Lit midterm paper topic was due tomorrow, but he hadn’t liked any of the prompts. He huffed… he had to think of something to say about that stupid book. Tossing his backpack onto the kitchen island, Peter settled onto one of the stools and sighed, resigned to his fate.
When Tony finally came up for air from his workshop, it was already dark out. Huh. He’d been elbow-deep in the Accords that day, on video calls with D.C. officials and Rhodey during the day, and virtually proposing changes to sections long after the rest of the committee had signed off. He hadn’t realized so much time had passed until his stomach had started growling aggressively. Muttering in annoyance, he’d brought his tablet with him, flicking through a RFP Pepper had forwarded him from ExxonMobil for Stark Industries energy technologies as he trudged tiredly up the frosted glass stairs.
Seeing a body sitting at the kitchen counter nearly gave him a heart attack and he startled violently, almost dropping his tablet.
Shit. He forgot.
Sometimes he forgot the kid lived with him now. It was so easy to get caught up in his day to day, but… this was his day to day now. A kid sitting at the granite island, hunched over worksheets. Doing homework. Jesus Christ.
Well, supposedly doing homework. The worksheets were spread out around him but Peter wasn’t writing, he was hunched, elbows on the counter and head in his hands just… sitting there.
“Hey kid.” Tony interjected softly, trying not to spook him but Peter still jumped, pulled from whatever thoughts he’d been lost in. “Doin’ alright there?”
Wide eyes looked up at him as he sauntered into the kitchen.
“Oh, I’m, yeah. F-fine. Just, y’know, homework.” The teen gestured awkwardly to the worksheets.
“Need any help?” Tony asked, secretly hoping he didn’t. The papers didn’t look like math or physics.
“Oh! No, that’s ok, it’s easy stuff I’m just- it’s just- it’s hard to concentrate sometimes. After… I just, I can’t help thinking about stuff sometimes.” Tony raised a sympathetic eyebrow.
“Stuff, huh. You, uh, you wanna talk about it?” As if Peter could hear the uncertainty in his voice, the teen eyed him warily, then clammed up, like a door had slammed shut on the emotion in his eyes. His expression turned neutral and he gave the man a small, toothless smile.
“No, it’s okay Mr. Stark, but thanks.”
Shit. He didn’t want the kid to think he wasn’t here for him but… this just wasn’t really his forte. His MO was to put a lid on whatever he was feeling, or fix it. Back when his own parents had died, in those early months he mostly just drank until he couldn’t think about it anymore… But Peter needed better than that. Shit luck that Tony wasn’t better. He wondered again if he was even doing the right thing here. He sighed through his nostrils.
“You hungry?”
“Um, I- I’m okay. I can wait for dinner.” The kid ducked his head, avoiding eye contact. Inwardly, Tony frowned; the teen had been unwilling to ask for anything all week, he didn’t think he’d even seen Peter open the fridge or pantry on his own. Was he getting enough to eat? Outwardly he shrugged.
“Well, I’m starving, turns out I skipped breakfast and lunch, so I’m making something.”
“O…kay, am I in the way? I can move upstairs.” Peter offered hesitantly.
“No stick around, I wanna hear about your day.” Tony started pulling out leftovers from the previous night, laying out various styrofoam containers on the counter. Maybe if he engaged the kid a little more…
“Y-you do?”
Tony looked over at him, trying his hardest to sound casual. “Yeah kid, I do. Fill me in. What’s going on in your world.”
Looking surprised, the teen opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again.
“Um, midterms are in a couple weeks, before winter break. So… I’ve joined a few study groups. We’ve just been… you know, focused.”
“Any subject you’re worried about?”
“Not really- Well, I’m always a little worried about my English classes. This year I’m in Literature and Composition… but it’s actually a little easier than last year. We did a lot of Shakespeare last year and it was awful.”
Tony grinned at that. “Thee must knoweth ye olde English.”
“Ugh.” Peter covered his eyes. “Stop, I’m getting flashbacks.”
“So what’re you reading this time?”
“We don’t get to pick it. We’re all reading Catcher in the Rye and have to pick a topic to write our midterm paper on.”
“Wowee, that brings back memories, my tutor made me read that too. I sorta remember, what’s it about again?”
“Um, a 16 year old kid in New York.”
“Huh, relatable.” Peter grimaced.
“Sorta. His brother died and he’s acting out, gets expelled from his prep school, wanders around New York alone and pretty much thinks everyone’s an a-hole but him.”
“Ok, not as relatable.” Tony eyed his charge; Peter would never be such a brat. The teen shrugged.
“I mean, everyone is saying that the main theme of the book is loss of innocence, and all his acting out is just ‘cause of his PTSD from losing his brother. They want us to write about why the character is a “tragic hero” but… ugh I don’t know. I don’t think he is. I think that’s stupid. He’s doing it all to himself. He calls everyone else “phony” but his whole rebellion is just as performative as everyone else and accomplishes nothing. It’s - it’s supposed to be some ‘coming of age’ story. How losing his brother forces him to grow up when he’s not ready, but - but he doesn’t grow up. It’s BS. In real life, you do grow up. You just do. He’s acting all tragic but that’s not fair because you just- you just do what you have to do. And no matter how alone he thinks he is, he’s still got his parents and his little sister and a home and he has no idea -“ Peter was breathing hard now and cut himself off, eyes darting up to Tony who was watching him carefully with a neutral expression, listening patiently. Wow, he’d really gone off on a rant there. The teen swallowed awkwardly.
“Anyway, I was gonna write about his privilege instead. ‘Cause he goes to a prep school and has a family and a home and still runs away, gets into a bunch of stuff and comes out the other side having “learned a lesson” no worse for wear, but his race and social class are the only reason he could get away with any of that. Self pity is a luxury.”
Tony looked over his shoulder from where he was pulling out a couple plates, mildly surprised at the harsh statement coming from the kid’s mouth. Peter was usually more… forgiving. “You really believe that?”
“Yes.” Peter said evenly, not looking up from where he toyed with his pencil. Tony considered him but decided not to comment on that revealing insight for the moment. The kid may not want to give himself a break, but Tony would.
“Sounds like a pretty thoughtful take. I bet your essay's gonna kill it.”
Peter smiled at him, glad the mechanic wasn’t trying to unpack any of the baggage that he’d inadvertently laid bare. After his rant, he felt a little raw.
“I hope so, it’s 30% of my grade.”
“I do not miss high school.” Tony snorted. “You’ll like college a lot better, especially when you get to graduate level, which I’m sure you will.”
Peter’s eyes sparked with interest. “That’s right, don’t you have a bunch of PhDs?”
“Just three.” Tony smirked smugly. “I started a few more but didn’t have the patience to finish them.”
“Why don’t people call your Dr. Stark?”
“Cause it sounds pretentious and I hate it. Anyway, I barely made it through the official doctoral process for each, despite adding significant contributions to the subjects. Electrical engineering for example. I didn’t exactly write a long ass thesis like I was supposed to, but I did invent a new energy balancing equation that revolutionized electrical efficiency in micro-circuitry, so what were they gonna do, say I didn’t deserve it? I don’t need to write a paper to tell them I’m smarter than all of them combined, when I can show it.”
Peter laughed outright at that. “That explains a lot Mr. Stark. I was having a hard time imagining you in classes and writing papers. You don’t exactly, uh, take to authority well.”
Tony smirked. “I make my own authority kid. Like my authority to demand that you eat.” He quipped, laying out a plate of shawarma, pita and hummus in front of Peter, identical to his own plate.
“C’mon, I’m willing to bet you’re hungry, even if you won’t admit it. Pep’s gonna be home a little later tonight, so it’s just you and me in the bachelor pad.”
Peter huffed a small laugh at that, but looked up to meet his mentor’s earnest eyes. He slid his homework to the side and took the offered plate gratefully as Tony came around the counter to settle beside him on a stool. He looked aside at the older man, trying to hide his surprise. He hadn’t expected the busy hero to actually eat with him… to willingly spend so much time with him in general.
Mr. Stark only even knew he existed because of Spider-Man. The suit he’d made was for Spider-Man, every call he’d gotten since Germany was about Spider-Man, even their few lab sessions at the Compound had been to work on the super suit… He’d never really expected the famous mechanic to care about Peter Parker. On the ferry that day, he vaguely remembered Mr. Stark saying he wanted to “break the cycle” while he was trying to compliment him about the rescue in D.C… maybe he’d underestimated the man's intentions? Peter looked over and saw that his mentor had started piling shawarma and other fillings into his pita to make a wrap. The teen started to copy him, which the man noticed with a smile.
“It’s better when it’s all stuffed together, huh?” Peter took a bite of his wrap and quickly nodded in agreement.
“Wow, yeah.” They chewed for a moment, then Mr. Stark nudged him with his elbow and Peter looked up from his food to see the man struggle with some emotion on his face. Peter waited, hesitantly.
“Things are gonna get better, kid. I promise.”
The teen tried to hide his surprise. His mentor had seemed generally adverse to talking about anything too… emotional… since he’d arrived. Yet here he was… trying to comfort him. As much as a part of Peter wanted to be cynical, wanted to shoot back that he couldn’t possibly know that, the larger part of the boy swelled quietly with gratitude and his lips pulled into an appreciative smile.
“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”
Waking up abruptly to his alarm on Friday, he rolled over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling, disoriented…and decided that mornings were the worst part.
Because at night… he’d forget. He’d go to sleep, trying his hardest to push down the anguish, the loneliness. He’d sleep and he’d dream of his life with May, with Ben, even sometimes his parents - blurry happy dreams. And then he’d wake up in a foreign bed, in an unfamiliar room, and he’d be confused for a second.
Then he’d remember.
It would hit him like a freight train, like a punch to the chest that she was gone. They were both gone. They were all gone. The grief would close in on him from all sides. He’d lay in bed, remembering, coming to terms with it again as he stared up at the ceiling.
He was glad for the quiet privacy of his room during his daily acclimation to his new reality. At least here, in bed, he could be alone with his grief and not worry about bothering Mr. Stark or Miss Potts with it. They were being so kind to him. Mr. Stark was overwhelmingly generous and Miss Potts had a genuine warmth that made him feel like he belonged here. He almost believed it too, if it wasn’t for the voice in the back of his head reminding him that he didn’t. 90 days. Well, less now he supposed, since he’d been staying with Mr. Stark for over a week. Peter just stared at the ceiling, hot tears leaking out the corners of his eyes, silently trailing down the sides of his face.
He wanted to be grateful… he- he was grateful… But still… he couldn’t help mourning everything he’d lost. He couldn’t help the ache as he looked around and saw a life he desperately wanted but knew he couldn’t have...
He’d make the most of it while he did have it, though, he had to. May would want him to.
He repeated what was starting to become his morning mantra in his head:
Be thankful. Life isn’t so bad, you could be out on the street, instead you’re living with Iron Man. You’re lucky. And you’re still Spider-Man, you can still help people. You still have a purpose.
Steeling himself for the day, the thought stuck with him. He couldn’t put it off any longer, he wouldn’t. He was going to start patrolling again today. As much as he wanted to respect Mr. Stark’s wishes, Peter didn’t think he could go another day without helping his city and not lose his mind.
By that afternoon, when school let out for the week, Peter was nearly buzzing with pent up energy.
Crowding around his locker, Ned had invited him back to his house for the afternoon to play video games and talk about their mechanics project. Peter had almost declined, itching to hit the streets, but the hopeful look in Ned’s eyes gave him the motivation he needed to resist. Ned had been a good friend that week; he was always a good friend, but he’d been especially attentive and sensitive to Peter’s swinging moods - he owed him some quality time together.
Luckily, their mechanics assignment was complex enough that it helped distract Peter for the first couple hours as the two of them put their backs into making progress on the circuitry and wiring of their prototype. By the time Ned’s mom had called them down to help make dinner, Peter had been famished and eagerly offered to help chop and clean while Ned stirred the braising meat on the stove and his mother prepared a baking dish. The casserole was to die for, as usual, and after finishing his hearty portion, Peter and Ned had gladly snuck away to the Leeds’ media room to play his latest score from the used games store.
An hour in, the teen boys were halfway through an especially hard level of Gears of War 4 when Ned abruptly paused the game. He angled his head at Peter with a questioning eyebrow.
“Dude. Seriously. Are you okay?”
Peter pulled his head back and made a face. The screen was frozen on a disgusting worm-like hollow creature with saw blades for teeth that was about to chomp down on his character. He’d been about to explode it with a shotgun to the face…
“What? What do you- I’m fine. Ned we were about to storm the tower, the boss is in there, we know it.”
“Peter. Dude. You have been antsy since the walk home, and your leg is literally shaking the whole couch.”
“Huh?” Looking down, Peter realized that one of his legs was bouncing anxiously, and had been even while he’d been playing. When he wasn’t focusing on dialing it down, even his tics were overpowered. The bouncing immediately stopped and he blushed. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“Are you okay?” Ned asked again. And not in the ‘how are you holding up after losing your aunt’ way, but in the refreshingly normal teenage ‘dude, what is your damage, why are you like this’ way. Peter sighed and tossed the controller onto the couch beside him, dropping his head into his hands.
“I’m sorry, Ned. Really. I do want to hang out with you, I missed this.”
“Ok, well, duh. Cause I’m awesome. But… is something going on… or something?” Peter looked down at his clenched hands and just shrugged. His leg started bouncing again. Ned twisted his lips to the side. “Wait a minute… when was the last time you went… you know…”
Peter sighed. Ned knew him too well. “Like… a week and a half.” Ned cocked his head to the side, brows furrowed.
“Why?” Peter shrugged again and tossed him a conflicted look.
“I- I wasn’t ready to go back out. My head wasn’t in it. I probably would have anyway, but Mr. Stark asked me to wait until I felt ready again…”
“And, so? Are you?” Peter nodded emphatically.
“Yeah. Oh yeah. I woke up today and I was just… ready. Itching for it.” Ned eyed him seriously.
“Peter, are you sure? I mean… like, a lot happened in the last couple weeks…”
“I know. I do. But you don’t get it Ned, I can hear the city all around me, all the time. Every car crash, every scream for help. When I’m on the train, when I’m walking home… I can’t ignore it any longer, it’s driving me insane.”
Ned watched the lankier boy drag his hands through his hair then shake them out with a huff. His expression lit up.
“Well, what are you waiting for?!”
Peter frowned at him, guiltily. “But what about- Ned, I mean, I do want to hang out with you, I swear. I know I’m a little antsy, but you’re my best friend, I-”
“Peter, we can still hang out, I’m your guy in the chair, remember? If you’re totally sure you’re ready to go out - and please be sure, ‘cause I don’t think I can handle getting yelled at by Iron Man - then you should go patrol! Just bring me with you! Call me from Karen and I can tap into police scanners and stuff to help you out!”
A smile widened on Peter’s face as Ned rambled excitedly. He had the best best friend on the planet. Abruptly, Peter leaned forward and threw his arms around his friend in a tight hug. He didn’t mention that Karen could scan police channels too. Ned laughed and gurgled, pretending he was being strangled.
“Noooooo, Peterrrrr….” Peter laughed into the other teen’s sweatshirt.
“Never change, Ned.” He pulled back and they jumped up from the couch, racing back to Ned’s bedroom where Peter had stored his backpack. Eagerly, he ripped it open and pulled out his suit, then started stripping off his outer clothing. While Peter was changing into his Spider-suit, Ned had dropped into his desk chair and nudged his computer awake, typing in commands to bring up his hacking software. When he turned around again, Peter was in full Spider-Man regalia, vacuum sealed skintight and white eye lenses adjusting to the dimness of the room.
“Whoa. That never gets old. What is your life.” Ned breathed, eyes wide and shining with admiration. Peter grinned under the mask and his eye lenses mimicked his expression.
“I know right?”
He bent to pick up his backpack and slung it over his shoulders, tightening the straps. Striding over to Ned’s bedroom window, he pulled it open and crawled out, sticking easily to the outside of the glass. He turned on the wall so that he was upside down, his head poking in through the opening.
“Man, you are so weird.” Ned laughed.
“I’m gonna work out some of my pent up energy first, run around a bit. I’m a disaster in a fight when I’m too riled up. Once I really start patrolling, I’ll give you a call, okay?” Ned gave him a thumbs up in between another command he was typing into his keyboard.
“You better, man. Be careful!” Peter patted the window twice and slid it closed from the outside. Then with a signature thwip , Spider-Man was swinging away.
Peter was already two blocks away when a thought occurred to him. Landing smoothly on an apartment building’s rooftop, Peter pulled out his phone from his secure thigh pocket and typed out a quick text to Happy.
He’d seen the man once earlier that week, when he’d dropped off Pepper and come up to the penthouse to say hi to his (other) boss. They hadn’t talked much, but the burly man had been a bit… gentler than usual and had asked Peter how he was holding up in a way that made Peter think he actually cared about the answer.
Hey Happy, I’m gonna go patrolling. Jfyi
What’re you texting me for, kid, does Tony know?
Um, no? I thought you were my “point guy”?
Let Tony know.
Peter squinted at the screen in confusion. Seriously? Okay, so much for “gentler”. He guessed he sort of felt for the guy, Happy hadn’t signed up to be a teenage superhero’s babysitter. He huffed in exasperation, then shifted nervously on ledge, looking back down at his phone to pull up Mr. Stark’s contact. His hands started sweating.
He- he knew he lived with the famous engineer now, but he’d never actually… texted him before. Directly. He’d always communicated through Happy or Karen, and even since being picked up, he’d either been at school or in the man’s actual presence; there hadn’t really been a need. Why did this feel momentous?
It- it was just a text… he didn’t understand why he was so nervous. Peter breathed out through his teeth.
Hey, Mr. Stark. It’s me. Peter.
Little dots appeared almost immediately, to his surprise.
Hey kid, what's up?
Sorry to bother you. I was gonna go patrolling.
Happy said I should let you know.
No bother. You sure you’re feeling up to it?
Yeah. Yeah super sure 🔥
What part of town are you in?
Queens atm, gonna work my way back.
You already eat?
Yeah, at Ned’s. Jfyi will prob be out late, Friday and all
Alright do your thing, Spidey. Stick it to the bad guys.
🕸️🤟🏻🕸️🤟🏻🕸️
Peter huffed a soft laugh. He’d half expected the man to give him a hard time. May would have, she would have insisted he wasn’t ready and told him to be safe and hugged him tightly before he left on patrol. But he realized he didn't have anyone like that in his life anymore. Tony wasn’t his d- his parent, he didn’t have any reason to fuss over Peter. Tony had picked him up and taken him to Germany exactly because the man knew he was strong, and could take care of himself. He should feel glad that no one was nagging him to ‘be careful’ or to ‘come home on time, Mister!’. He should feel proud that his mentor trusted his abilities enough not to be worried about him. Shaking his head, Peter thwipped out a web to a nearby building.
So why did he feel so hollow?
“Tony, stop worrying.” Pepper turned to purse her lips at him as she stirred a yellow tomato sauce on the stove. Tony was fidgeting with one of his gauntlets at the counter with a small screwdriver as he adjusted a delicate component that had been sticking. His knee was bouncing up and down where he sat as he worked, the repetitive motion causing the barstool to make a soft squeaking sound against the travertine tile floor. Pepper narrowed her eyes at him. “Tony.”
“What?” He snapped, frustrated as he looked up. Meeting her gaze he realized his mistake quickly and his face fell. “Shit. I’m sorry, Pep. It’s not you, I- Christ.” He muttered and tossed the gauntlet and screwdriver on the island counter, dropping his head into his hands. He bent forward dramatically until his forehead was resting against the cool granite. Pepper rolled her eyes.
“He’s going to be fine, honey. He’s been doing this every day for months, he was doing this just a couple weeks ago. He can take care of himself. I know you know this.”
“I know. I do know.” Tony mumbled into the counter. “So why is my anxiety through the roof?”
She glanced back from the sauce to him sympathetically.
“Because now he’s not just someone else’s kid, he’s your kid. And it was your idea to play ‘cool guardian’ and not ‘overbearing guardian’ when he asked... But I do think you made the right call, Tony. We can set ground rules as we go, but first, building trust is important in any relationship. He trusts us, and he needs to know that we trust him.”
Tony scoffed and looked up at her cynically. “I shouldn’t trust him. He got dropped in the Hudson, got the Staten Island ferry cut in half, then crashed my 100-million dollar jet! That was just in two weeks!”
“Okay.” Pepper admitted calmly, taking a sip of her white wine. “Those are extreme examples. What were his patrols like outside of the Adrian Toomes fiasco?” Tony sagged back into the counter and shrugged.
“Mild. Bicycle theft, muggings, saving pedestrians from cars, getting cats out of trees, giving directions to tourists.” His fiancé smiled, gratified that she was right. Tony could rattle off the teen’s usual patrol because he’d been keeping a close eye on the kid’s activities for longer than he’d ever let on. It said more than it didn’t about his investment in Peter, even if he wouldn’t admit it.
“Well, unless there are any more super villains in the city tonight, Peter’s patrol will probably be just as mild.” She soothed. Tony sighed and sat up, still holding his head miserably. As amusing as Pepper found it to see Tony’s particular brand of hyperfixation focused on someone else for once, she didn’t enjoy seeing him so worried and anxious. “Isn’t there some video feed you have from his suit?”
“The Baby Monitor, yeah.”
Pepper couldn't help rolling her eyes with a laugh. “I’m sure he loves that.”
“Well, see that’s the thing, it kinda feels wrong. Before, I never really watched them unless FRIDAY threw up flags on the suit’s performance, or if he’d done something particularly stupid that I should be aware of - like gliding over a helicopter. He used to leave Happy long winded voicemails about his patrols pretty much daily - I listened to most of those. Didn’t even need to spy on him, he spied on himself, little idiot.” Pepper huffed a small laugh into her wine glass.
“Well, if you want to respect his privacy but keep your peace of mind, why don’t you expand what FRIDAY monitors, within reason, and get the best of both worlds?”
Tony, who had already planned to do exactly that, smiled at his fiancé fondly. “Never sure who’s really the genius here, you or me.”
Pepper smirked at him and tossed the now cooked pasta in the sauce she’d made, filling a bowl for him. “Let’s just say both. Eat this first, then you can go down and tinker, which we both knew you were going to do all night until he got home anyway.”
A smile pulling at his lips, Tony came up beside her and took the bowl, then wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her into a grateful kiss. He held it for a moment too long to feel innocent and she released a satisfied little moan into his mouth before he pulled away, looking at her softly.
“Thanks Pep. No one else knows me like you do.” She smirked and ran a hand across his cheek.
“I know your mind can’t rest when the people you care about are in danger. It’s his first time out as Spider-Man since May died, it’s understandable to be nervous, but I’m sure it'll be less scary after you see him go out day after day and come home safely.” Tony closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers.
“I can hope.”
Man, it felt good to be back. The crisp winter air cut through his suit, brisk, like tossing cold water on his face, while the automated heater kept him warm around his core. He’d spent a solid half hour, maybe more, swinging through the city, leaping across rooftops, running along the sides of buildings, doing flips as he went. The little whoops of joy burst from him with each particularly invigorating acrobatic move, echoing off the stone and concrete around him.
After finally working off most of his pent up, nervous energy, Peter had eventually settled atop a lightning pole on a high rise office building - one of the taller ones in Queens - opting for the best vantage point he could find. He looked around at the now dark city as he caught his breath, enjoying the view of twinkling lights from windows and cars that dotted the night sky. He knew he should call Ned, but he had some orders of business to cover with Karen before he did.
“Hey Karen.” He said to his suit. Immediately, the smooth voice in his ear responded.
“Hello Peter. It’s good to talk to you again. It’s been 9 days since you last patrolled, which is highly unusual for you.”
“I know… Um, something happened.”
“Oh?”
“My aunt May died.” There was a long silence. Could an AI be rendered speechless?
“I’m so sorry to hear that Peter. May Parker was an admirable woman.” She said evenly, but her voice somehow held undertones of concern… and sadness. Peter marveled once again at Mr. Stark’s skill as an AI roboticist. Karen was truly a work of art… and as much as he knew she wasn’t real , per se, he couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes at her words. It felt like talking to a friend - to someone who cared.
“How are you doing, Peter?” She asked softly, voice low. The teen sighed and shrugged, knowing she could sense the gesture through the suit.
“Honestly, Karen, I’ve been better. But I’m not going to let that stop me from helping people. May was murdered by… by bad guys. There’s more of them out there, I know it, and they might hurt more people. I have to try and stop them, if I can, but I don’t know who they are, or how to find them. Are you able to pull the police report for that night?”
Immediately Karen’s voice switched to all-business. “Just a moment.”
About 20 seconds later, a scanned, digital copy of the police report filed the night of May’s death appeared on Peter’s HUD. It scrolled automatically, Karen’s program highlighting and cataloging specific details and names of interest. It zoomed in on a particular name.
“They identified the killer?” Peter asked, surprised.
“It would seem so. Raphael Brunnello, a.k.a “Ralphie”.”
“Oh wow, that sounds like it came right out of a mobster movie.”
“He is indeed a “mobster”, in that he is involved in an organized crime syndicate based here in New York. He is currently incarcerated and would be difficult to make contact with for questioning. My projections show a 99.9% chance he will be convicted of May Parker’s murder.”
“Good.” Peter seethed darkly. But he didn’t just want Ralphie to face justice, he wanted all of them to face it. Ralphie was only there because rival gangs were fighting in the streets and innocent people got caught in the crossfire. He needed to fight this at the source. He needed to follow the trail to the top: find the boss.
“Ok, so Ralphie… he got any criminal buddies on record? Like, can we guess what gang he’s in? I wanna take these guys down, Karen, all of them.”
“There are no official ties listed for Brunello in his file, however, he has been arrested in the proximity of these three other men a number of times." The AI pulled up the pictures and rap sheets of three more angry looking men on his HUD.
“OK, uh, great. Any way to calculate, or triangulate or whatever, where these guys hang out?”
“Combined among the three of them, they have been arrested 17 times. 24% of those arrests have occurred in this two-block radius.” The mug shots disappeared and were replaced by a high-res map of New York that quickly zoomed into Queens, then zoomed further into a specific neighborhood in the lower quadrant, two rectangular blocks pulsing with a red outline. “This seems like a good place to start, Peter.”
“Wow, that's… incredible Karen! Great detective work! Alright, I’m gonna do some patrolling along the way as I make my way there, then I’ll do a stake out!”
As Peter swung across town, he took some time to relish being back on the streets. It wasn’t that late yet; he figured bad guys like to do their criminal-ing in the dark of night, not right after dinner, so he had plenty of time to kill. It was only December 2nd, but already New Yorkers were out on the streets in thick pea coats and scarves starting their holiday shopping. He helped an older couple carry a large flatscreen TV out to their car as they eagerly told him about their daughter’s recent doctorate. While he was near the electronics store, he saw a man in a ski mask smash in the window of someone’s car to try and steal the gifts stored in the back and Peter quickly webbed him to the asphalt.
“This is the spider of Christmas future! You’re gonna regret doing that buddy!” The robber screamed at him in anger, cursing him out, and Spider-Man deftly shot a glob of webbing over his mouth. “There are kids around, man! You kiss your mom with that mouth? Anyway, the coppers will be here soon. Have fun in jail!”
The next hour remained relatively mild: small-time crimes, stolen purses, lost dogs and the like. As the streets started to empty, Peter made his way to the two-block radius that Karen had marked on his HUD, calling Ned on the way.
“Peter! Finally!” The other boy answered by way of greeting. Peter smiled under his mask.
“Yeah, sorry man, I just needed to work out some energy and then I got caught up in some small time stuff, but actually, I’m on my way to something bigger right now.”
“Bigger? What do you mean?”
“I’m gonna do a stakeout.” Ned nearly squealed on the other end of the line.
“A stakeout? Like, cop-movie stakeout?”
“Yep.”
“Dude, awesome. What for?”
Peter almost hesitated telling Ned what he was up to… but his friend had stuck by him during the whole Vulture debacle, even helped him hack Mr. Stark’s super suit despite not agreeing with it. He could trust him. “I, uh, I asked Karen to pull up the police report from when May… when the attack at the hospital happened.”
“Peter…” Ned started cautiously, but Peter didn’t want to hear the pity or worry. He bowled over him quickly.
“They identified the guy who killed her and the other a-hole they brought in with him. It was a fight between rival gangs. They tried to attack each other again even in the ER and May and another nurse got caught in the crossfire. That means it’s not just about the guy who did it - it’s about all of them. The whole gang. Both gangs. Mobs. Whatever.”
“Oh man… Peter, isn’t this a little… big? Are you sure you want to take on the whole New York underworld? I mean…”
“Ned. They killed May.” Peter pressed through his clenched teeth and he heard Ned’s jaw clack shut. They both sat in silence for a moment, then he heard his friend sigh.
“You’re right. I’ve got your back Peter. So, what are you gonna do?”
Peter, who had finally arrived at the street his AI had identified and quickly dropped into a shadowed alleyway, peered out at the nearly empty stretch of dingy storefronts and apartment units, lit with dim yellow-orange street lamps. “Karen helped me narrow in on where these guys hang out. I mean, the fight they got into had to be somewhere in Queens if they were brought into her ER, so I figured they must have a bad-guy-hangout around here. There’s no known location for them on police records, so I’m gonna start here, stake it out until I find one of them, then follow them back to their boss.”
“Oh man, this is like all my favorite cop shows. Super buddy stakeout!” Peter couldn’t help grinning at his friend’s excitement.
“Totally. But if I’m in reconnaissance mode, I gotta stay quiet. Do you wanna hang on the line, or I can just fill you in later?” Ned scoffed.
"I’m just doing homework man, I can hang.” Nodding to himself, Peter left the call active but mostly ignored the small indicator in the bottom left of his HUD as he started scoping out the area. He did a circuit around the two blocks Karen had highlighted for him, first from the rooftops, then slower, more carefully, ducking into alleyways, examining storefronts, trying to see if anything in the area stood out.
There was the occasional crime in the neighborhood, seemingly unrelated to his stakeout, that he stumbled across during his vigilant patrol and he quickly nipped those in the bud, webbing up bad guys. He opted not to call the cops right away, worried it would scare off any prospective mobsters, but after a few hours of this, it was getting late, and he still hadn't seen hide nor hair of anyone that matched the facial tags he was looking out for. Realizing he’d have to go re-apply his webs to the bad guys he caught, Peter sighed and went about securing the criminals and calling the cops. When Ned eventually finished his homework, he spoke up.
“Any luck?”
“Ugh. Nada so far.”
“Well…" To be honest, the other teen was a little bored since nothing exciting was happening. “Maybe next time Peter. You’re gonna try again right?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Okay, well… I’m gonna dip, but let me know if anything happens, okay?!”
“‘Course. See you Monday.” Ending the call, Peter decided to sit and wait. This was for May, he could be patient.
But hours later, nearing midnight, Peter felt his eyelids getting heavy and his head nodding. There’d still been no sign of any mobsters. Ugh. He was so bummed the night had been a bust. He supposed it wouldn’t be Parker Luck if he spotted his target the very first night he tried, but a part of him had hoped. Cautiously, Peter did one more pass around the block, narrowing his eyes at dilapidated store fronts and worn cars, wondering if any of them were more than they seemed. But the street was quiet. Sighing, he turned to start heading back to Manhattan.
A warning flashed on the right of his HUD. Web solution (right): 10%
Oh man, he hadn’t been thinking about that at all recently. 10% would be enough to get him back to Mr. Stark’s Manhattan penthouse, but not enough to do another patrol. He needed to make more.
He’d meant to… In fact, Thanksgiving break would have been the perfect time. He could have snuck onto campus and used their chem lab while the school was empty to make a big batch to last him for a while. He’d planned on doing exactly that but never got the chance. Then everything else had happened so fast - moving in with Mr. Stark, the funeral, his first week back at school… he hadn’t even remembered how low he was on web fluid until the warning popped up. Stupid! Getting that low was dangerous - he dreaded the idea of being stuck somewhere without the means to web home. His left web shooter was at 17%, so at least that was a little more promising, in case he was cutting it close with the right.
He could stop by his school tomorrow, it was Saturday after all, fewer prying eyes and he knew where all the security cameras were at this point. But… maybe he didn’t have to. Mr. Stark had a lab, right? And not just any lab, his lab. The lab to beat all labs, well stocked and equipped with the latest cutting edge StarkTech. He’d- He’d just ask Mr. Stark. His mentor wouldn’t mind right? Yeah he’d do that. In the morning though.
The journey back to Midtown Manhattan was a blur as the cold of the December night started to permeate Peter’s bones, making him feel even more tired than he already was.
When he finally saw the distinctive 80 story building come into view, the enhanced teen breathed a sigh of relief. Thwipping a web as high as it would go, Peter tugged with all his might and propelled himself up, up, up, until he was sticking to the side of the building. Crawling the rest of the way up as silently as he could, Peter crept around the perimeter of the 80th floor, peeking into windows until he found his bedroom. He supposed he should have planned this part out better, but he’d found his room in the end, right? He wouldn’t tell Pepper he’d accidentally peeked on her asleep in her and Mr. Stark’s giant king bed. Popping his bedroom window open, the vigilante dropped in quietly before straightening in the dark room.
It was his first time coming home to this bedroom after a patrol. It felt… strange. He was so used to sneaking back into his 7th story Queens apartment that clamoring up 80 floors felt unreal. And the bedroom… It was so big. He’d been so used to his small cozy room… standing here in the dark with his queen bed on his right and the gaming couch on his left - it felt foreign at first. And yet, he’d been living here for over a week… As he looked around, his eyes adjusting, he realized the room was actually starting to feel familiar in its own way. His rumpled jeans were on the floor, his homework was spread out on his desk…
Dropping his backpack at the foot of the bed, Peter pressed the Spider emblem on his chest to release the seal of the super suit and peeled it off, leaving it where it fell to the floor. Throwing his mask on the pile of fabric, Peter ran a tired hand through his unruly hair and fell face first into the soft, navy blue comforter of his bed. Too tired to bother with any of his bedtime routine, Peter shimmied up until he could burrow under the covers. Limbs loose from his long patrol and finally feeling like he was doing something to avenge his aunt, the teen vigilante quickly fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
“Boss, Peter has returned from his patrol. He entered the penthouse from his bedroom window and has since gone to bed.”
Tony looked up from the titanium booth thruster he’d been working on, relief flooding through him. He exhaled an exhausted sigh, muscles visibly unclenching. It was a little after midnight and he’d been starting to get worried. He’d just been thinking about pulling up Karen’s feed… Peter didn't seem like the type to stay out at all hours without telling someone, but then again, how well did he know the teen, really? Peter had been hiding his entire superhero shtick from his aunt for over 6 months, the kid was clearly comfortable lying to authority figures.
“He look okay? Any injuries?”
“None that I could see, or that Karen reports.” A pause. “I would have told you right away had that been the case.”
“Alright, alright, no need for the sass, FRI.”
“You programmed me to sass, Boss.”
“Right.” Tony groused at himself, regretting his past choices. Shoulders slumping, he dropped the machining tools he’d been using onto his workbench and sagged over. It was like the nervous energy that had been coursing through him for hours, distracting him, keeping him wired, had suddenly fled his body in one fell swoop. He felt like he could sleep for a decade. Standing up, he pushed himself away from his desk and rubbed a hand across his face.
“Nighty night, protocol, FRI. Lock it up.”
The lights above him pulsed a gentle affirmative, and as he stumbled out of his lab and up the stairs, he heard the door lock and equipment shut down behind him.
Okay. Okay. Peter’s first patrol under his roof and the kid was still kicking. Check. He could do this… right?