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Peter hates to be yelled at, like all teenagers.
He gets it. Sometimes, he messes up enough that whatever adult hounding him needs to be loud to get their point across. He knows what it's like to need to be loud.
But he just can't stand it when he didn't do anything wrong in the first place. Like all teenagers.
“What is wrong with you?” Mr. Stark asks, his voice incredulous. “What was so important that you had to leave in the middle of a battle? People are counting on you, kid.”
He steps a little closer to Peter. Peter takes a step back. Mr. Stark is a lot taller than him. Stronger, it feels like, because Mr. Stark is in one of his newer Mark suits. One they had worked on together. It makes Peter feel smaller, like the walls are closing in.
Mr. Stark has you cornered. Spiders don't like to be cornered.
“Huh? What is it, kid?” Mr. Stark asks. Peter knows it's rhetorical. The man doesn't want an answer. Peter squeezes his eyes shut, alarm bells blaring inside of his head.
Around them, various sirens wail as ambulances and police and fire trucks rush to the scene. Mr. Stark ignores them, stepping even closer to get Peter's attention.
“Because I know you didn't just leave like that. Not when we needed you.” He gestures to himself, like he's proving his point, even though he wasn't the person Peter left.
“People were gonna die, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers. He's never felt so grateful for his mask, but he feels like Mr. Stark can see right through it. “I had to help. We don’t trade-”
“And leave us behind? You were supposed to be covering Wilson's back, kid. And you just left.”
Peter sees one of Sam's broken wings in his peripheral vision. He doesn't look up from where he stares at a building, in flames, behind Mr. Stark.
“You know what?” Mr. Stark scoffs. “You just proved to me, to the Avengers, how untrustworthy you are.”
Peter blinks, alarmed. “What?”
“No, we're writing it in your file,” Mr. Stark counts on his fingers. “‘Untrustworthy and prone to spontaneous betrayals, doesn't respond well to criticism, a child-”
“Dude,” Peter says. He's never felt so humiliated. A betrayal? Seriously? “That's so not fair.”
“No, what's not fair is that Wilson’s being treated for wounds in the medbay and that I have to replace his wings because you couldn't stay where we asked you to.” Mr. Stark retorts.
“How bad?” Peter asks after a pause.
Mr. Stark shakes his head. “I don't think you deserve the answer to that.”
The man looks like he's going to say more, but the reporter vans file into the square, surrounding them both. Mr. Stark stares at him as a crowd of reporters come up to them. Peter knows a dismissal when he sees one.
He swings away.
Later that night, upon a rooftop, Peter finally allows himself to think about it.
A mother and a child, holding on to one another as the villain of the week aims his laser-thing at them, sending his posse of monsters towards them. Peter watches the mom cradle the toddler's head, whispering to him. Peter hears her prayer.
He has to help them.
Was he wrong to go after them when no one else saw it? Was he wrong to save that woman and her son? Was it his fault?
Another part of his mind says yes, Peter, you saved them, but you let Sam get injured. That's on you.
Peter snaps out of his, admittedly, self deprecated thoughts as Daredevil sits down next to him. They sit in silence for a while, both of them staring down to the city.
Or maybe, in Daredevil’s case, tilting his head towards the city.
He doesn't need to waste Daredevil's time. He pulls down his mask, standing up. Before he could reach his full height, Daredevil pulls at his leg and makes him sit back down.
If cornered, a spider's first instinct is to run far, far away.
Peter sighs, pulling his knees up to his chest.
“Rough day?” Daredevil asks. He lets one of his legs dangle off the roof.
“Rough month,” Peter replies, resting his head on his knees. The cartoon-ish eyes of his mask close as he closes his eyes.
Daredevil hums in response. Nonchalantly, he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Peter lifts his head. “What?”
The man gestures towards him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He reiterates. He doesn't sound at all mad.
Peter wants to say no. Daredevil probably has other things to do and he only asked out of pity. Peter looks down at himself. He does look pretty pitiful.
But Peter can't resist. “Can I?”
Daredevil nods, turning his head in Peter's direction.
“All they do is boss me around,” he says quietly. “They take me out on missions when they need me, and then don't bother to talk to me when they don't. It's like they pretend to like me, but only when they need it.”
Daredevil doesn't respond. He turns his head back out towards the city again. Peter can see his frown.
Everything comes out after that. Things Peter doesn't even tell Ned, and won't tell May.
“He told me I don't deserve to know if Sam's okay or not. He's mad at me because I left a man who was trained to defend himself to go save a civilian mother and her son.”
Peter just sags forward, tired. “I hate that I got myself into their mess.”
The man tilts his head forward. “Who says you can't just get yourself out of it?”
“What?” Peter glances at him. “I wish it was that simple.”
“It can be. Next time they call, don't show up. Show them how untrustworthy you really are.” He suggests, and Peter thinks it's a great idea. A fantastic idea. “Bail on them instead.”
Peter swallows. “Mr. Stark made my suit. He doesn't really like the fact that I'm out here, alone, so he added a tracker log and a camera.”
Peter gestures to his spider emblem, even though he knows the man can't see it.
Daredevil whistles, low. He tilts his head back towards the city, hearing something Peter couldn't. Then, he cants his head back to Peter with a small frown. “He made it clear you weren't apart of the team, but he gets to control where you go?”
Peter just sighs, "He made the suit."
The two of them sit there for a moment before Daredevil speaks again.
“I can get you a new suit,” He tells him. “It'll be without that fancy AI and everything, but it'll keep you safe.”
“For how much?” Peter asks skeptically.
Daredevil just laughs, standing up and stretching. “Don't you worry about it.”
The next time Peter sees Iron Man, it's in the middle of the night. And totally conspicuous and blows their cover.
His new suit is darker; navy and maroon instead of the bright red and blue he had. It's also padded with armor, just like Daredevil’s. It doesn't have Karen, but he likes it a lot more than the one Mr. Stark made him.
Maybe it's the fact that Daredevil went out of his way to get it for him. Or maybe it's the fact that Daredevil cared enough to do it for his safety and protection, not to keep an intrusive eye on him.
“What do you think you're doing?” Mr. Stark’s mechanical voice rings out, echoing from the rooftop they're on. Daredevil stands up from his crouch, menacingly stepping in front of Peter.
Daredevil wasn't very tall, but he was still bigger than Peter. Mr. Stark was taller than both of them.
“Mr. Stark?” Peter asks. Daredevil crosses his arms, not at all deterred.
“You've been ignoring our calls for weeks.” Mr. Stark’s face plate retracts, letting Peter look at him. Peter doesn't, looking over his own shoulder to the warehouse behind him.
Not only do they know they're there, but they think Iron Man’s here, too. Damn.
“And now I found out that you're out here with this nutjob in a new, shitty suit instead of checking in with us.” The man tilts his head at them. Daredevil does it back, mockingly.
“Maybe,” Daredevil says, “He wouldn't ignore your calls had you treated him right.”
“Yeah, not talking to you,” Mr. Stark says plainly, trying to move around him. Daredevil blocks him, pushing himself and bumping Peter back a step. He has his hand around Peter's wrist.
Peter's spider-sense flickers like an old light bulb in the back of his brain.
It's not that Daredevil doesn't know he can protect himself, Peter realizes, it's that he's protecting them both. Peter is the escape route, even though Daredevil doesn't like swinging.
“C'mon, Spidey, do you really want to fight about this?” Mr. Stark asks. His voice is really annoying and Peter doesn't want to listen to it. It's nothing like the coarse tone of Daredevil and not like May's smooth soprano.
“Stark, he doesn't want to go with you. Leave him alone,” Daredevil growls, teeth bared. “He's just realized how much of an asshole you are.”
“How much of an asshole I am? You should have seen him when I first met him. He's such a fanboy. I miss it.” Mr. Stark pretends to reminisce, eyes open and staring at Peter. Peter resists the urge to fall backwards off the building, his wrists aching with the weight of his web shooters.
“I'm sure he was," Daredevil takes a step forward, "Until you blackmailed him into going across international borders and fighting Captain America and his crew, which included an assassin.”
Mr. Stark tries to speak, but Daredevil interrupts. He releases Peter, stepping in front of him fully. “Barely any knowledge of hand-to-hand, either. What a responsible adult you are.”
Peter just looks off to the side. He doesn't want to face Mr. Stark right now. He's grateful Daredevil covers him, even if he seems cowardly.
The vigilante continues, “And what about how you dumped him on your bodyguard who didn't even bother to respond to him? Or how you ignored his attempts to tell you about a crime operation with illegal weapons?”
Daredevil is angry on his behalf. He balls his hands up tight into fists. It feels great to Peter that someone cares so much about him.
Mr. Stark just stares, eyes wild and dangerous.
“Maybe we should talk about how you took his suit and left him without any protection, even when you both knew those criminals were still after him.” Daredevil snarls like an animal.
“And what have you done with that suit?” Mr. Stark asks skeptically, not even bothering to respond to anything else Daredevil's said. “I spent a hundred thousand on that.”
Peter rolls his eyes.
“Tore it to shreds.” Daredevil says lowly, a grin on his face.
There's a moment of silence between the three of them, not that Peter's said much. He feels Mr. Stark’s gaze on him.
“What kind of shit have you been feeding him?” Mr. Stark demands. “What's he been telling you, kid?”
Peter isn't paying attention at this point. He's instead looking over Mr. Stark's shoulder towards where he spots Black Widow in the shadows. He tugs at Daredevil’s red suit, gripping his shoulders.
“Not the only Avenger here,” he says quietly, “We have to go.”
Daredevil pauses, tilting his head. “You had to bring another Avenger into this? Are you serious?”
Mr. Stark furrows his brows. He's really angry, too, Peter notes. His sixth sense spikes again as Mr. Stark says, “Do you know how old he is? If anything, we can call this the arresting of an unlawful vigilante and the grounding of a teenager.”
Daredevil stops. Peter hesitantly steps forward from behind him.
“Are you kidding me?" Peter says, incredulously. He feels uncontrollable, furious.
When a spider has nowhere to run, it will put up its front legs and make itself as big as it can.
“You're going to arrest him? For what?”
“There he is!” Mr. Stark says, condescendingly, “Nice to finally see you.”
And Peter doesn't even know what to say to that, so he doesn't bother to respond.
“You came out here and fucked up our operation, guns blazing, and for what?” Peter steps forward. He doesn't feel confident, he feels angry. He feels his veins pulse beneath his skin.
Mr. Stark looks down at him, eyes narrowed. Daredevil grabs his wrist, but Peter tugs forward out of his grip. Daredevil hums, like a warning.
“Who knows what a grown man is out here doing with a teenager?” Mr. Stark shakes his head, playing dumb. “In the middle of the night, no less.”
“What, so it's only weird when it's with him? It wasn't weird when I was sitting in your penthouse with you, alone? You only disapprove when it's at night?” Peter scoffs. “I don't need your fucking approval. Get out of here.”
Mr. Stark suddenly reaches out to him. “I'm sorry that none of us trust you with these terrorists you surround yourself with.”
Daredevil grabs Peter’s shoulder, pulling him back behind him. He doesn't fight it this time, his eyes sliding back to the shadows. Mr. Stark really was thinking of arresting Daredevil.
“Don't fucking touch the kid,” Daredevil hisses, voice low and gravelly, “Or I swear to God, I'll throw you off this roof right now.”
Peter drags him back, his arm around his waist. The hair on the back of his neck raises. He sees a head of red hair approach, feels a set of eyes on them from behind. They're surrounded.
“And for the record,” Daredevil seethes, “I'm the product of the kind of mentor you think you are.”
He breathes heavier. Daredevil feels it, too. A second passes, a blast of something, and suddenly Peter is swinging them both away, ducking into alleyways. It's a bumpy ride, Daredevil yelps with every corner they turn.
“Freak,” They hear Iron Man say. Peter exhales loudly, even though he doesn't know which one of them he's talking about.
When Peter feels safer, he sets them both down, sliding down the brick wall at his back until he's sitting on the concrete. The smell of the dirty alley burns his nose, but he doesn't notice it.
Daredevil throws up a few feet away, hands hooked in a chain link fence.
Peter takes off his mask, setting his head in his hands. He's so tired of nothing ever going his way. He inhales, shaky.
Daredevil plops down right beside him. “That was awful.”
Peter knows he's not just talking about their escape.
“Are you going to be safe?” Daredevil asks, out of breath. "You need somewhere to stay?"
Peter shakes his head. “Don't know. They do kind of know where I live.”
Daredevil huffs for a moment, head down.
“I have an idea," he says, "But I don't like it.”
It turns out, the warehouse they were checking out was full of bombs. Loads of them. And lackeys that reported to their bosses.
They were planning to blow up Midtown. ‘They’ as in Kingpin. The bastard.
However, this time, Spider-Man and Daredevil enlisted the help of Deadpool, who had been protecting Peter for a while.
‘Protecting’ as in stalking, but it got the Avengers off his ass, so Peter could only thank him with various Hello Kitty accessories off of Amazon.
“Swing me up there,” Matt had been getting used to Peter’s method of travel. He was spoiled now.
“Deadpool, you go into that building over there. Make sure no one else is left and then disable that bomb. Spider-Man, after you drop me off, follow Wade. I don't trust him with explosives.”
Wade salutes them and runs down the street. “You should boss me around more!”
They had become Matt and Wade instead of Daredevil and Deadpool after they had found Peter injured and unconscious one night. They took Peter back to Matt's apartment, and soon after, Matt had demanded to be Matt. Wade followed suit because he's a conformist.
Matt snorts at Wade, gripping onto Peter as he launches them on top of a building. He steadies Matt before running and jumping off the building silently. He lands next to Wade, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Wade jumps five feet in the air, looking back at Peter like he just kicked his dog. Peter laughs, shaking his head.
“Jesus, kid,” Wade heaves, shaking his head. He puts a hand on his heart. “Give a merc a warning.”
Peter just walks in front of him, opening the door quietly. He steps in, sliding against the wall and stepping forward. He and Wade take out a few of the lackeys, and when they find it, Wade steps forward to disable the bomb. Peter, as instructed, stands in front of an open window to ‘run like hell and do a cool superhero pose in front of the flames’ if Wade messes up.
Wade doesn't mess up. The bomb falls apart, just like every other bomb he had disabled. He and Peter swing out the window, landing in front of the building Matt went in.
“Matt, baby, how are you doing?” Wade asks through their comms. They wait for a response. There's no answer.
“Matt?” Peter tries immediately. “Matt?!”
Matt's sluggish voice answers. “Kingpin.”
Another voice is just barely heard over the comms.
“Shit.” Wade says. He cracks his knuckles, grabbing onto Peter as he swings them up. They land and start running.
“Matt, where are you?” Peter tries. “Up or down?”
The man just sighs, the sound crackling. “Up. Go up.”
Peter and Wade glance at each other before they race each other up the stairs. At the top, they find Matt face down on the floor, groaning.
“Dude,” Peter says. Wade steps in front of them. “Why would you provoke him?”
“I didn't,” Matt grumbles as Peter lifts him onto his feet. “He provoked me.”
Kingpin stands over by the windows with his hands behind his back. He stares out into the city. Well, as much as you can when it's foggy out.
The man turns around, tilting his head at the three of them in greeting.
“I feel like blowing up Midtown is a bit of an asshole move,” Wade crosses his arms. “What if some of us have to get to work tomorrow?
Kingpin steps forward to reply before the building blows up, sending them all flying. Peter manages to keep his hold on Matt as they hurtle towards a rooftop. They just barely made it.
Wade, however, launched himself at Kingpin. They both went out of the building.
Matt gurgles on the ground, snapping his hands by his ears dully. “Knocked me out,” he says, a little louder than he needs to.
Matt reaches up to Peter, only satisfied when he feels the markings of his suit. Peter lets him hold onto him.
Peter sits down next to him, head resting on his knees. Even though he knows Matt can’t hear, he says, “I told Wade not to kill him.”
Matt hums quietly. Then, he mumbles back, “I thought Wade wasn't supposed to kill him.”
Peter sighs as the shock wears off and his ears pop. He was hit with debris in his ribs and his shoulders ache with the stretch he had to pull himself into to grab onto Matt. The rooftop landing had hurt his knees.
Matt sits up, leaning heavily against Peter for support. “Thank you.”
Peter just rests his head on Matt's shoulder as Wade climbs up the fire escape. He pops his head over in alarm, before calming when he sees both Peter and Matt awake and safe.
“Disappeared,” he says loudly. “Also, don't respond, the explosion took out my eardrums.”
Wade takes off his mask, showing them his bloodied ears with a grin.
Peter shakes his head, pulling up his mask to his nose. He takes a couple deep breaths that hurt his ribs. Peter looks up and sees Wade, wide eyed, looking behind them. He pulls his mask back on. Matt sits up straight, head tilting.
“Well done,” he hears from behind him. “All but one bomb.”
Wade stands up and pulls Matt up with him. Peter takes Wade’s outstretched hand, turning around.
Peter sighs immediately. “Can't you just leave me alone?”
Mr. Stark, less than happy, just shakes his head.
“I thought we had a deal,” Wade yells loudly, pulling Matt's arm around Peter's shoulder and stepping in front of them, like their own personal meat shield. “You leave the kid alone, you wake up alive.”
“Is it Terminal Cancer?” Matt calls, looking down at the ground, “Get it? Because he doesn't go away?”
“Ha,” Wade yells, raising his hand for a high five. Matt doesn't respond. “I get it!”
“Bye,” Mr. Stark says, and two empty suits from the Iron Legion grab onto Wade and Matt and fly them away. Wade latches onto one of them, genuinely fighting against it. Peter can hear Matt’s animalistic yell, fighting back, but then both of them are deposited on the ground below, and Peter can't hear them anymore.
His heart spikes, and goosebumps race down his arms.
And then it's just Peter and Mr. Stark.
Then, finally, when the spider sees no other choice, it strikes forward and bites, releasing venom into its prey's veins.
Peter heaves slightly, breathing like he's ran a marathon, and Mr. Stark is just looking at him. His faceplate is down, but Peter can imagine the disappointed look on his face. The anger.
“Deadpool? Really?” Mr. Stark shakes his head. “At this point, I feel like you're just doing this to spite me.”
“Maybe,” Peter says, “If you would leave me and Daredevil alone, I wouldn't have to get a mercenary to protect me.”
Mr. Stark looks out towards the damage of the building behind Peter. “I wouldn't call this protection.”
“What do you want from me?” Peter asks, no, rather demands. His hands curl into fists, and he faintly hears Wade holler from the street.
“Is this what teenage angst is like?” Mr. Stark wonders, “Disappointing your parents, going out after dark-”
“You,” Peter interrupts, his tone low, dangerous, "Are not my father. You never will be.”
“Hit a nerve, there, sorry,” the man dismisses, “I think I skipped this age.”
“Yeah, because your teenage years consisted of drugs, alcohol, and STDs.” Peter hisses. “What do you want?”
“What do I want? You, kid, are the future generation of heroes. You're still salvageable. And I… slightly care about you.”
He says it like it pains him to say.
Peter rolls his eyes beneath the mask. He scoffs loudly.
It's like he knows I'm broken already, Peter's thoughts blare with the alarm bells already ringing. He swears he can feel his blood already boiling.
“Listen, I don't want you to end up in this rabbit hole called being a martyr and getting yourself killed.” Mr. Stark says. He steps forward and Peter's spider-sense spikes.
“So you'd rather me go with you and wait ‘til aliens invade again than stay out here with Daredevil and do something now?” Peter asks, “Or do you just rather I go with you because you can't believe for once in your life that anyone would choose someone other than you?”
“Is this about Sam? He's fine now.” Mr. Stark uncrosses his arms.
“Do you just not fucking get it?” Peter wants to scream, cry, and throw up. All at once. “The only thing I ever wanted from you is an apology and for you to leave me and my friends alone! Take your bullshit somewhere else! You had your chance!”
Peter's voice nearly growls, broken and coarse and escalating, "You took me to Germany by blackmailing me and then you didn't have the decency to want me around after! You don't get to choose now, because I'm doing it for you!"
They stare at each other in silence.
“I don’t-” Mr. Stark tries to say, but Peter isn’t having it.
“It isn't them feeding me lies, it's me saying the truth. You're a piece of shit and I want nothing to do with you.” Peter finishes. He sighs heavily, flexing his fingers. His shoulders drop from his ears. The worse part is over now, he tells himself.
“I see,” Mr. Stark says after a minute. He looks casual, like he doesn't have a care in the world. It's a contrast to his attitude when he came after Peter previously. "Don't come running to me when they inevitably get themselves killed.”
Mr. Stark leans back on his heels, a dark gaze meant to intimidate on his face, like he's trying to scare Peter into going back on his word.
Peter stares at him in horror, arms limp at his sides. His jaw feels like it's dragging on the floor, heavy with the weight of all the swear words he wants to scream at him. Instead, voice low, he says, “Are you kidding me?”
“Yeah, do you not know the Deadpool lore?” Wade's masked face pops up as he climbs the fire escape and hops up onto the roof. “I don't die, asshole.”
Matt climbs up next, jaw clenched. “You're a fucking dick, you know that? Who says that to a kid?”
Peter and Wade respond the same, “Him, apparently.”
Wade cocks one of his guns and aims at the metal in the Iron Man suit. He pulls the trigger and lets the bullet fly. It bounces off, but Mr. Stark flinches. “You can't join Team Red.”
Peter just shakes his head. He steps back and stands at Matt’s side. Wade continues messing with his gun.
Matt sighs, “Delete your TikTok account, Deadpool, we are not Team Red.”
Mr. Stark stares at them for a moment. He doesn't say anything else. The man makes a gesture to the empty Iron Man suits in the sky and they fly off.
“What an asshole,” Wade says, “I hate billionaires.”
“Eat the rich,” Matt agrees, then pats Peter on the back. Peter appreciates his attempt to be serious with Wade involved. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine now,” Peter sighs, “Maybe that will give him a hint to leave me alone.”
“You did good, Peter,” Matt says. Wade nods in agreement.
“Next time, we should three-v-one him.” Wade cracks his knuckles. “We're the superior Reds.”
“Shut up,” Peter and Matt beg.
“I can't hear you over the sound of a million Instagram followers!” Wade says, jumping over the edge of the roof to the fire escape with a loud bang. “I'm famous and you're not.”
Peter follows after him, “Yes I am! Have you seen the tweets about me? I was trending for, like, two weeks straight at one point.”
Matt sighs heavily. “Social media deteriorates the minds of the young so easily.”
Wade looks back at him as they turn a corner. “Easy for you to say, you can't see it.”
“He has a screen reader.”
“Yeah, but he can't see the pictures! Red, imagine all the cute puppies and kitties and koalas and unicorns you're missing out on and then cry-”
“Wait, who's Red again? We're all red-”
“Peter, I'm Red-”
“How do you know?”
“People tell me things-”
“How can you trust so easily, Red? There are dirty, dirty liars and cheats in the world-”
Peter interjects, “Is that a Taylor Swift song?”
Matt nearly starts crying, “I know I’m Red because that's what everyone calls me!”
“Who says they're talking to you and not some secret, hidden, invisible-"
Later, Sam shows up at Peter's apartment.
Peter opens the door, confused. He eyes Sam warily before looking up and down the hall. "Hello?"
"Hey, kid," Sam nods at him, looking him up and down. "You've got muscles now."
Peter furrows his brows and looks down at himself. He had filled out after a while of Daredevil's mentoring. A strict diet and various boxing and fighting lessons later, Peter had gained some muscle. "Yeah, I guess I do. How'd you find my address?"
"Stark," Sam says plainly.
"I see," Peter looks down the hall again. "Why are you here?"
"Well, we weren't sure if you'd ever talk to us again after Stark messed up," Sam manages to look a little sheepish and angry at the same time, "But he doesn't speak for us, and I wanted to ask if you'd give it another shot."
Peter just stares at him incredulously. He thinks it's a good thing he didn't bother to ask him to come in.
"If you don't want to, it's no sweat," The man says quickly after he sees Peter's look, "We just want to let you know we have your back."
"Right," Peter's voice is eerily plain and even. "You have my back. You, the Avengers, have my back."
Sam furrows his brows and doesn't respond.
Peter continues, "I'm glad you're okay, but I couldn't care less about the Avengers."
Sam tilts his head, "Did you not want to be one?"
Peter's lips thin, his hand tightening on the door. "Not after Stark tried to arrest me and a friend."
The man nods and inhales quickly. "Right. Okay. Well, if you need me, you know where to find me."
"Alright," Peter says, and closes the door.
Back inside the apartment, May smirks. "I would have told him to fuck off."
Beside her on the couch, Ned giggles, "I would've told him to suck it."
Rifling through the cabinets, Wade barks out a laugh. "Next time, tell him to come back with a warrant."
Matt's voice rings out from somewhere in the apartment, "That's the third time this has happened this week."
Peter just smiles, jumping over the back of the couch and landing next to Ned.
"I'm just that desired," he says. Ned puts an arm around his shoulder with a laugh and May sighs deeply.
"Sure you are, bud," Ned grins.
And then, with the enemy down, the spider finally has a chance to run away.