Peter Parker was not engaged in his modern politics class.

School was miles away. The only thing he was engaged in was the phone that had vibrated in his pocket at the beginning of seventh period. He would have gotten it confiscated if he hadn't suavely talked his way out of the predicament. Now, the phone was burning a hole in his pocket, and his leg was bouncing out of control. Happy Hogan's name appearing on his screen was a rare occurrence, and it sucked that it had popped up almost milliseconds before the bell rang. He stole a glance at the clock for the millionth time that afternoon and realigned his focus for the last ten minutes.

"Okay," his teacher, Mr. Ellis, looked through his lesson plan, "We have ten minutes left, let's briefly touch on the missing merchant ships."

The class erupted into excitement, every student turning to each other to dive into the various theories they had heard, and some that they had come up with themselves. It was a topic of particular interest and had been dominating the news. Peter had a decent feeling the notification had something to do with it as well; this type of mystery was like candy for Mr. Stark.

"Okay! Okay!" Mr. Ellis sighed, trying to settle down his class, "Yes. It's insane. It's crazy. We're not here to talk about aliens, or the Bermuda triangle, this is a politics class and I want you to tell me how this affects international relations."

Peter wanted to zone out again, even though he knew the answer. He looked over to Ned, who was sitting across the room, and rolled his eyes. The Friday blues were hanging over their heads, the weekend just a hop away.

"Attacks on trade ships have started world wars," MJ said, she was sitting next to Ned. If there weren't assigned seats, they would all be sitting together. In usual MJ fashion, she hadn't not bothered to raise her hand. She shrugged at Peter and returned to her sketch.

Mr. Ellis affirmed this, "Correct. The mysterious disappearance has already caused tension. Since there is no viable evidence that this is an attack, not a whole lot can be done, and next week we'll dive further into the problem trade relationships can cause. Have a good weekend."

Before Mr. Ellis had finished his sentence Peter was out of his seat, packing up his notebook and laptop to leave school. He bounded out, racing towards the door in a childlike glee and whipped out his phone from his back pocket. Sure enough, there was a text from Happy waiting for him, along with a sleek black car in the front of the school. Happy Hogan leaned against it, looking unamused. He adjusted his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and opened the door.

"You got my text, Mr. Parker?"

Peter skimmed it, Boss needs your help with an important project. Might have to stay overnight. Will pick you up from school. He nodded.

"Have you let your aunt know?"

"Will do!" he shot him an enthusiastic set of finger guns and fell into the backseat, shooting May a text to let him know what his weekend might hold.

Happy wasn't much of a talker, and it was hard for Peter to shut up when he was bursting with excitement. He kept his mouth shut, anyways, not wanting to say anything stupid. This was the first time he had heard the phrase "important project" in all the time he had been working with Mr. Stark, and the potential was endless. It had been a painfully long month since anything interesting had happened, and even then, interesting was an understatement. Taking down Mr. Toomes, who Peter had now nicknamed The Vulture, was terrifying, but in the best way possible. He finally felt like he was doing something right. Petty theft and muggings could only fuel his need to help for so long. The responsibility he carried with his abilities seemed grow with every day that was put in between the last time he had spoken with Mr. Stark. The fact that he had enlisted his help, he couldn't help but be thrilled.

His phone buzzed again, a text from Aunt May.

Okay, Peter, next time maybe call and ask? I know that you haven't been putting yourself in too much danger, but the Spider Man thing still worries me.

He sighed. The care that he felt for Aunt May was unparalleled, which was precisely why he had no intention for her finding out. She obviously had been struck with quite a shock, walking in on him wearing his suit, but with further explanation it had all made sense. She wasn't dense; she knew he had been sneaking out. After probably the longest conversation of his life, she finally gave in to business as usual, as long as he kept open communication with her.

He twiddled his thumbs until the Avengers Complex came into sight. The place felt like Disneyland to Peter, and it took everything in him not to jump from the car and take off running.

Mr. Stark, dressed in his usual formal attire, met them outside. His expression was unidentifiable thanks to the sunglasses that shaded his eyes, and he didn't speak a word as he led Peter inside. His confident gait remained unaffected by Peter's eager nature.

"Mr. Parker, how have things been? Friendly neighborhood Spider Man keeping you busy?"

"Yes sir, I-"

"And your aunt? I heard she found out?"

"She did Mr. Stark but-"

"And school? I can only do so much to get you into MIT."

"School's all right and wow I really appreciate that Mr. Stark but-"

"You got a girlfriend yet? Boyfriend? I don't know your preferences I guess but-"

"Mr. Stark!" Peter finally cut him off, frustration and curiosity getting the better of him. Sometimes his mentor's wittiness was humorous, but when it was knowingly teasing, he didn't want to beat around the bush. Mr. Stark raised his eyebrows and took off his shades, stopping the steady pace they had been keeping

"Peter. Suit up. I'm assuming you brought the suit. Happy will take you to my lab where I can explain everything. Kapeesh?"

Peter nodded, nervously fidgeting with the straps on his backpack. He watched Mr. Stark confidently put on his sunglasses and walk away, unsure of how to feel. In front of him, Happy gestured him towards the restroom.

Being able to take his time changing into his suit was a new feeling. Normally he would be hidden in an alleyway, doing all he could to remain unidentifiable, but now he stared at his reflection in the mirror, unfazed. He paused before taking pulling the mask over his head, examining the expression in his chocolate eyes. There was a bit of fear in them, but like every Spider Man duty, he brushed it away and pulled the mask on, his suit coming to life.

Good afternoon, Peter. How was your Friday?

"Good, Karen. Good," Peter exhaled, unaware that he had been holding his breath.

Glad to hear it.

Feeling somewhat clownlike standing next to Happy, he followed a maze of hallways, and a few flights of stairs to their final destination. A few times, Happy had to scan his hand to get through, which Peter found incredibly impressive. One day he hoped to be at that level of trust with Mr. Stark.

The lab was not of the tradition he was used to, but it was a prime example of who Mr. Stark was as a person. Music boomed and reverberated off the walls, various AI's and robots assisting their creator at every command. Happy stood at the door as Peter, eyes wide as saucers, gawked at his surroundings.

"Like it? It's gone through phases. Variations. Had to move it a couple times. Especially when my house practically burned down," he searched for Peter's eyes through the mask. "Mind taking that off for a moment?"

Peter scrambled to remove it, "Oh! Yeah of course. Sorry."

He added a nervous laugh for good measure.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. pull up my research on the missing boats."

Right away.

Holographic images, articles, and videos all materialized directly in front of Peter's eyes. They layered and piled on one another, and if these had been physical documents, it would have reached the devastating mystery continued. 64 lives had been lost, no one knowing if they were stranded or dead. It had been months since these ships had been heard from, and no one knew where they were going. No bodies, no remains, no rubble, nothing gave any sort of lead to where or why they were vanishing. The only information they really had was-

"After the United States made a slight variation in the route they were taking, ships went missing left and right, luckily, they were smart enough to figure that minuscule clue out. Thoughts?" Mr. Stark looked at Peter quizzically.

"I-uh-well-" Peter started to fumble over his words, but regained his composure to add on his ideas, "They have sent rescue boats through that route though, correct? The video and audio footage from the last five minutes before vanishing show silence. Complete silence. There's no viable explanation yet."

"Yet," Mr. Stark looked at Happy with a mischievous smirk. "That is precisely why I have brought you here Mr. Parker. You have a science mind. Reminds me of me. Don't you think, Happy? Don't answer that."

"Okay Mr. Stark but I don't really see what me suiting up has anything to do with-"

"Let me finish, Pete. Can I call you Pete?"

"I guess so."

"You're suited up because we are headed to an area in the Atlantic Ocean that I suspect is where these ships are going missing.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows, concerned, "Isn't that sort of…dangerous?"

"Not if we take a plane. I have some good ones as well. I'm not guaranteeing we'll find anything, but it's worth a shot, and a sample of the water. Maybe a giant octopus. We might be there for a while, sitting. Observing. Science," Mr. Stark brushed away the holograms and threw a pen behind his ear.

"Science…" Peter couldn't put a finger on how to respond. The fact that of all the people he could have called (which was probably a lot), he called Peter. It was validation he hadn't felt since Mr. Stark returned the Spider Man suit to him. Mr. Stark trusted Peter with a top secret and delicate mission, and that was remarkable.

"You do like science, don't you?"

Peter snapped out of his shock, "Right! Yes, Mr. Stark, I do. This-this is right up my alley."

Mr. Stark smirked again, "Good. Follow me to the aircraft. I have everything we could possibly need, so all you have to bring is your person."

Peter waited while Mr. Stark gathered things, various papers that he shoved into a briefcase. He turned around expecting to find Happy, but all he saw was his back walking away down the long hallway and into the elevator. When he turned back, Mr. Stark was already on his way, Peter needing to jog to catch up with him.

The first time Peter flew on an airplane he was headed to Germany to fight Captain America. The second time Peter flew on an airplane, he wasn't on the inside of it, he was on the outside. This was the third time Peter had flown on an airplane, and it wasn't even that. The jet looked like every single Stark Jet he had seen on TV. He never thought he would see one in person, nonetheless ride on one. Stepping on it felt completely out of reality. As they approached the cockpit, Mr. Stark gestured for him to put his mask on, which he did promptly. A pilot and a co-pilot sat in their respective seats, preparing for takeoff.

"Don't worry, Spider Man, they know that this is a top secret mission. They're sworn to secrecy. Right boys?"

The two women flying the plane looked unamused by Mr. Stark's obvious sarcasm. They turned to Peter, looking at him nonchalantly.

"Taking a break from protecting Queens, Spidey?" the Pilot's black hair was pulled into a tight bun. It hardly bothered her that Queens' crime fighting hero was in her midst. Not that Peter chalked himself up to that, but generally people had to take a moment and confirm that what they were seeing was actually Spider Man.

"I-I guess yeah."

The pilot looked confused, "Why does he sound like he's 12?"

"I-"

"AND that's our cue to leave. Thank you, Ms. Tran, your endless services to my company are continuously appreciated," Mr. Stark took Peter by the shoulders and guided him away from the cockpit and into the main cabin. He sat in a seat, anxiety starting to creep into the back of his throat. He knew that Mr. Stark would never purposefully put him in danger, but he couldn't help but explore the idea that what was causing the disappearances could cause a jet to go missing as well.

The plane rumbled, shook, and hovered above the ground and into the air. The jet moved faster, but was more stable than a standard passenger cabin. The latest in Stark technology would probably make a five hour trip less than 30 minutes.

"We'll be there before you know it," Mr. Stark was reading something on his phone. "I don't know exactly what we're looking for, kid, but I have a feeling we'll know it when we see it. We're essentially doing a stakeout."

Observational science had provided plenty of breakthroughs, but sounded incredibly boring. As Peter listened to Tony's plan to watch and record every half hour, he secretly dreaded what was to come, unsure of how this could possibly get interesting. They were going to be there until midnight, when if they didn't find anything they would return to the complex for the night. It was 4 P.M., and this was about to be the longest six to seven hours of Peter's life.

They came to a stop, and Mr. Stark moved to the side Peter was sitting on, opening a window that covered the length of the jet. It provided a complete view. He opened the other identical window on the left side.

"Are you willing to sit on top of the jet, kid? I have equipment you can set up there, and an emergency button in case something dangerous happens," Mr. Stark rolled in a cart. A laptop was mounted on a device designed to stick to the plane, as well as a desktop with notebooks, pens, highlighters, anything he might need to effectively record data.

"Y-yeah I think so."

"Good. You'll do good, Parker. Let's get you set up."

The pair worked together to set up Peter's station, lots of crawling and webbing to keep them stable. When Peter was finally comfortable, they exchanged some thumbs up, and Peter set to work. He opened the laptop, and started the notes that Mr. Stark had carefully instructed him on how to take.

Hour .5, 4:33PM, water remains still save for the natural oscillation of waves. Fortunately nothing seems out of the ordinary. Weather is clear, a couple clouds here and there. It would really suck for me if it started raining. That's besides the point. If there's any variation I will record, but for now I will return to watching the sea.

And that was that.

He didn't have much to do unless something drastically changed, so he rolled up his mask to just above his nose and inhaled, the clean, unpolluted air utterly refreshing. He asked Karen to notify him of any variations of his surroundings, then laid out onto his back, eyes glossily transfixed on the pure blue sky.

"Karen, can you play that song…that one sea shanty…it's really creepy and stuff."

Peter I'm not entirely sure what you're referring to.

"Oh come on…the first line is like, 'My heart is kissed by Cupid' or something like that."

Now playing Jolly Sailor Bold

"Yeah."

My heart is pierced by Cupid.

I disdain all glitter and gold.

For nothing can console me,

but my jolly sailor bold.

Peter pictured himself on the sea, a pirate. He had always enjoyed the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, even though he was conflicted by the fact that these men were traditionally violent, raping criminals. Plus, Johnny Depp was now everything that he didn't want to be. He eliminated pirate from his head and changed the image to a sailor. A white, linen shirt, damp and windswept hair, leaning off the side of a ship as it plowed through the ocean. It was an interesting fiction.

Hour 4. 8:02PM. Over halfway there. The sun is barely starting to set. It's getting cloudier, and the ocean is just as calm as it was when I first started. A couple of birds have landed on the surface and have floated for a few moments, and nothing seems to be causing them to vanish as mentioned in hour 2.5. Other than that, no changes.

It was getting painfully boring, but Peter persisted. Every so often Mr. Stark would check in on him, they would compare notes, and then go back to it. Dinner was at 6, but the pangs of hunger had come out of nowhere an hour ago. Peter shifted to a position onto his stomach, grateful for the fact that he was sticky and would never fall off. His eyes drooped, tempting him to close them and take a nap, but he was almost there, and he knew that Mr. Stark would appreciate his efforts.

His sailor imagery reappeared in his mind, but something about the picture was clearer. It sat behind his eyes like a movie. On the banks of an island, a mermaid brought him, battered from a shipwreck to shore. It wasn't anything from a Disney movie; scrapes and bruises scattered his body, and his left eye was swollen shut. The mermaid hoisted him onto land, her gentle hand lightly cupping his face. She cried heavy tears, sobs erupting from her chest over and over.

Peter tried to look closer, knowing that he was certainly not asleep. The harder he looked, the less that the sailor looked like him. Startled, he opened his eyes, wondering why and how his imagination had taken him to that place.

Come all you pretty fair maids

Whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor

That plows the raging sea

He was about to record hour 4.5 when Karen notified him of a change on the surface of the water.

This isn't like the other ones, Peter. This came from underneath rather than above. I'll zoom in on it for you.

Karen did so, and Peter squinted under the mask to try and find what she had been referring to. She was right, there was a ripple that was growing and expanding until a figure emerged, and Peter had no idea what to think.

"Peter are you seeing this?" Mr. Stark said in his ears.

"Yeah Mr. Stark I am…"

He had planned on saying more, but what he saw in front of his own eyes took over. The figure looked human initially, but the more it revealed itself. . .herself. . .he saw that she was unlike anything he had seen before.

When she floated on her back, she confessed her true identity.

"Is that…"

Mr. Stark finished Peter's thought, "A mermaid. Don't be so surprised, Spider Man, a majority of the sea is undiscovered."

A mermaid. Not too unlike the mermaid he had imagined just moments before.

"But here…now…"

"I know."

An unfamiliar urge pulsated in Peter's chest, calling him to investigate, "I'm going to go interact with her."

"I'll be watching. Be safe."

Cautiously, above the misty water, Peter lowered himself down to the figure, suspending himself upside-down. He gave Mr. Stark a glance on his way down, still completely unsure of what could happen. The creature looked like nothing he had ever seen before. Long, blonde hair surrounded her head like a crown, and instead of legs, a flesh colored tail that resembled every mermaid fairytale he had read as a small child. He hovered a few inches above the water, not wanting to disturb her. If she was sleeping, it had to be soundly, but it was very possible that she just had kept her eyes closed to fool them.

When they fluttered open, it startled Peter who almost lost his grip on the web. He placed another hand on it to stabilize himself, and when he looked back down, she was staring at him in the eyes, her wet hair pushed back out of her face. The eyes he looked into were a piercing silver, a color that no human was naturally born with. Then again, there was no way that this being was human. He lowered himself another inch to get a better look, but she quickly set her hand on his mask-covered forehead.

She shook her head, but didn't speak. In the depths of his mind he felt a thought inexplicably emerge that wasn't his own. Do not touch the water unless you seek to be greeted with death.

He could hardly focus as a longing feeling ached in his chest. He wanted to dive into the water with her and never return to the surface, the only thing preventing him from doing so was the hand on his forehead, a plea to follow her simple instructions. Reality felt distant, and he couldn't determine where he was and what he was doing. Her face convulsed into a grimace, and a tear rolled down her face as she opened her mouth and began to sing.

The fog that had already began to form thickened, and the question of reality died, transforming into a desire to be with this newfound woman for all of eternity. He had no idea what eternity felt like, but the ethereal angel in front of him did. He felt her peel down his mask, letting his lips brush against the cool, ocean air. Reaching out, he was almost able to make contact with her skin; she was barely out of reach.

It all came to a violent and jarring halt as he was ripped from the haze he had free fell into.

"Peter can you hear me now? Pete? Kid?"

"Wha- what yeah. Yeah. I can. What's going on, Mr. Stark?" he did everything he could to sound as nonchalant as possible, but he sounded like he had just awoken from an all day nap.

"We lost you for a sec," Mr. Stark sounded frantic, "Quick, web that thing and bring it onto the ship. I'm ready to get out of here."