Chapter One: Faith, Trust, and My Guy in the Chair

'Maybe I should have said yes to the new suit,' was the first thing Peter thought while being surrounded by five robbers. This normally wouldn't phase him, but the sudden appearance of another masked man bearing a semi automatic rifle isn't the most encouraging thing. A sudden tingling sensation rapidly spreads from the back of his neck that makes his hair stand on end. Without hesitation, he leaps up to cling to the ceiling and uses his webs to fling three of the robbers out of the path of their partner's spraying bullets. The bullets ping off metal jewelry cases and shatter their glass. When the flung robbers collide with the wall, they stare at the demolished jewelry cases in utter shock. Before they can gather their wits, Peter sends another string of web their way. The web expands midair and encases the torsos of the three robbers, pinning them in place.

"Peter? Peter! What happened? Are you there?!" Ned's voice frantically asks through Peter's suit. When Ned heard the cracking of the gunshots then Peter's sudden radio silence, he thought of the worst possible scenario.

"Yeah! Yeah just, um, one sec!" Peter quickly shoots a web to yank the semi-auto gun from the robber's grasp and pulls it into his own hand. As soon as he jumps down, he uses his free hand to shoot a net web at the remaining two robbers, restraining them too. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes out his hands to release some of the excess adrenaline. "Hey Ned, can you check the security cameras to make sure no bad guys got away?"

"Yeah, no problem, dude," Ned answers immediately before Peter hears the clicking and clacking of the keyboard.

"Karen?" Peter asks the AI of his suit and her patient voice answers,

"Yes, Peter?"

"Scan everyone for injuries and check to see how far away the police are, please." He looks up to the frightened store owner and customers huddled behind the wooden counter. "Hey everybody!" He attempts to sound reassuring as best as he can. "Uh, are you all okay?" Even though he knows Karen has a scan radius of miles, he walks closer to them to get a better look of his own. A few of them nod while others stare at the webbed up robbers.

"Injuries seem to consist of mild abrasions and slight lacerations due to the glass. No one is in need of immediate medical attention," Karen answers for them. A small panel appears in front of Peter's face displaying heart rates along with the highlights of all the minor injuries. "The police are two blocks away."

"Awesome, awesome. Thank you, Karen." He lets out a slow breath. It's always a nerve racking wait to hear if anyone's hurt.

"My pleasure."

"I've checked all the rooms inside, the alley, and the surrounding block," Ned speaks up, "but I don't see anyone dressed head to toe in navy blue and masks. I'm pretty sure you're clear." He always sounds confident when he's my "Guy in the Chair," even though I'm pretty sure he's sitting in a bean bag chair right now, Peter thinks fondly.

"Thanks, man." When Peter hears the sirens get within a block, he swings out the front doors and up the side of the building. It isn't a long climb to the top, it only being two stories, and he watches from above as the police arrive. He smiles to himself as he crouches with his forearms resting on his knees.

"More evil-doers thwarted by Spider-Man and his Guy in the Chair," he declares with a wide smile hidden beneath his mask.

"That's because we're, like, the best team ever," Ned responds matter-of-factly, but Peter can still hear the grin in his voice. He can tell Ned loves this just as much as he does.

"Even better than Han Solo and Chewbacca?" Peter challenges and Ned gasps overdramatically.

"How dare you bring Han and Chewie into this." Peter can't help but laugh like the proud nerd that he is. Ned quickly joins in his laughter. "Alright, Karen, anything else happening?" Peter double checks.

"Nothing that has made it to the news. I have not found anything of interest over the police scanners either," Karen informs. Based on her quick response, she was probably scanning the news stations while Ned and Peter were joking around. Peter tends to be slightly disappointed whenever Karen says there isn't anything to do, but he knows it's always better than the possibility of innocent people getting hurt if something were happening.

"Sweet. Ned, I'm gonna do some swinging around in case anything happens to pop up. Maybe we'll actually get some sleep tonight." Even the thought of getting a full night's sleep starts to make Peter drowsy. He hasn't slept for more than four hours a night in about three weeks, which he knows isn't a good habit.

"C'mon, you know I'd rather stay up all night being your Guy in the Chair than sleeping!" Ned protests. Peter can't help but scoff.

"Oh yeah? And what about that History Exam tomorrow?" he asks, a slight smirk on his lips.

"Well…I mean, everyone else makes it through high school by cramming. Why can't we?" Ned weakly counters. He doesn't seem to have even himself convinced, let alone Peter. When Peter doesn't respond, Ned adds, "Fine, we can call it early tonight."

"You go ahead and start studying, I'll finish up patrol and call you when I get home."

"You sure? I'm not too comfortable leaving you alone." He sounds reluctant, but Peter waves through the air as if it's no big deal.

"Yeah of course I'm sure. I was Spider-Man for almost a year by myself. Besides, I have Karen to keep me company." He loves being able to talk to Ned during patrols, but he doesn't want Ned's grades to suffer because of it. This isn't his burden like it is mine, Peter thinks.

"Okay, but don't hesitate to call me if you need any backup." Peter can't help but smile at his friend's concern.

"Sounds good! Talk to you tonight."

"Later, Peter!" With that, the picture of Ned's contact in the corner of Peter's interface disappears. He stretches his arms in front of him before standing up to prep himself for a swing. As he stands, black spots swirl around the edges of his vision. It takes a few moments of squeezing his eyes shut and blinking for his vision to clear.

"Woah," he mutters breathlessly.

"Your blood glucose levels seem to be low. I recommend an intake of calories before continuing your patrol," Karen informs him once he has regained his balance. "As well as a minimum of eight hours of sleep."

"No need to worry. I'll eat when I get home, okay? Patrol comes first." There's a brief silence, and for a moment Peter worries that she won't answer at all.

"Alright, Peter. However, if you fail to do so, I'll be forced to contact Tony Stark." His muscles tense. He hasn't talked to Tony since he, very maturely, refused the suit. He didn't expect to be best friends with him after that, but he kind of expected a bit more…communication? Especially since the Vulture fiasco was due to a lack of communication. It's been a few months. Then again, he ponders, I'm just some Junior in Queens and he's, well, Iron Man and a billionaire genius. Surprisingly, Happy has actually responded to a few of his texts here and there. It's better than last year when there weren't any answers.

"Um, how…how about we contact Happy before Mr. Stark? If we have to, y'know?" he offers lamely, wringing his hands together nervously.

"We can do that." Karen's voice is as patient as always, but also somewhat sympathetic. Peter nods a few times before shooting a web out from his right hand to the adjacent building, ready to continue his patrol.

True to Karen's findings, there isn't anything going wrong in Queens at all. Nothing! He spends the next three hours swinging to different parts of the city and finding absolutely nothing except a cat trying to run into oncoming traffic.

"Can you believe that, Karen?! Ater I saved it, it hissed at me! I never thought a cat could make me feel so unappreciated." After 9:00 pm, the overwhelmingly busy streets become free flowing and the sidewalks are only peppered with a few people here and there. By 10:00 pm, the only cars out are taxis and the only people out are homeless as well as some not-so-friendly looking people. Considering that he's lived here for sixteen years, Peter had thought that he would've become desensitized to seeing homeless people at this point. Still, he feels sad whenever he sees them.

"Peter?" Karen's voice gently pulls Peter from his thoughts.

"Hm?" he hums quietly.

"It is currently 10:53 pm. Your curfew is 11:00 as stated by your aunt. I suggest heading back to your apartment." He groans slightly. Ever since May found out about his extracurricular activities, she set a strict curfew. Before she found out he was Spider-Man, she had never given him a time to be back home by. All she ever asked was to be kept in the loop, like a text here and there about what the plan was. When she came up with the curfew, she had said, "Eleven o'clock, do you hear me young man? Not a second later or swear I will have Tony Stark on the phone so fast it'll give him whiplash. Understood?" She knew how to reprimand Peter, obviously knowing that he'd hate to be a bother to Tony. Peter knows that he has better things to do.

"Yeah, okay. I'll start making my way back," he mumbles tiredly. Usually he would argue, but the sleep deprivation is talking for him this time.

"Don't forget to eat at home. Remember our deal?" Karen asks. Peter can't help but give a light chuckle.

"I remember, Karen. Scout's honor." Karen's laugh lightens the mood.

"You're funny, Peter." It's always nice when her mechanical voice has a hint of humor to it.

"Can you get Ned on the phone for me? I want to talk to him on my way home. He'll help keep me awake." Peter smiles at the thought of his best friend talking his ear off as he swings home.

"Of course. Calling Ned Le-" The thunderous boom of an explosion cuts off the rest of Karen's sentence. Peter whips his head in the direction of the sudden sound.

"Cancel that. Change of plans." He shoots his webs and makes his way towards the building with a now orange glow to it and smoke beginning to billow upwards. When he lands, he can see that the majority of the fire is on the first floor working its way up towards the second floor of the three story hotel. His heart speeds up.

"Running into a burning building is ill-advised. I caution constraint." He ignores Karen's warning, too caught up in the sight of the growing flames.

"Okay…okay. Karen? Scan the building for me. I need you to, to find everyone and the quickest way to get to them. Call 911 too and send them the address." He's already running into the hotel as he finishes his thought. If he wasn't panicking before, he is now.

"Alright, Peter." He takes a few steadying breaths.

"This is a piece of cake for Spider-Man, right?" he tries to comfort himself. "Spider-Man has climbed the Washington Monument, held onto the outside of a plane as it crashed, lifted a…" lifted a building off himself, he finishes in his head.

"The most people are on the second floor, which contains sixteen people. The third floor has twelve, and the first floor has three." He nods as Karen gives him the information, already forming a plan. "It seems the explosion was due to leaked gas near the back of the building. There is an unconscious woman and man to your left." His head snaps to his left and he sees the glowing outline of two figures in the next room. He sprints through a doorway, whose door is only hanging on by one of its hinges. When he sees the man and woman both unconscious and pinned beneath slabs of drywall, his breath hitches. With shaky breaths and quick movements, he easily lifts the drywall and hoists them up. He carries them out over his shoulders and sets them outside as gently as possible while trying to not waste any time.

"Where's the third?" He questions Karen once he's back inside the burning hotel.

"Halfway up the stairs to the second floor." When he rushes to the stairs, there's a man on the landing between flights of stairs gripping his leg. An open gash bleeds through the man's hands as he attempts to put pressure on it. Peter doesn't hesitate to put his arms underneath the man's knees and neck, regardless of his sobs, and run him out. As Peter sets the man down, he hears cracking and shifting of the hotel behind him. "You need to hurry," Karen urges as the hotel teeters. Peter climbs up the outside wall to the second floor, wanting to avoid the death traps known as stairs altogether, and jumps into the closest window.

"Hello?! Hello?!" he calls out, trying to get anyone to answer. There's less fire on the second floor, but there's way more smoke. He realizes that his mask can unfortunately only filter out so much. Once again, another great instance in which the new suit would have been helpful. "Where are they?" he asks as he tries to keep calm.

"They are all in their rooms," Karen provides. Peter knows he's lucky that the cheap hotel doesn't have many guests tonight, otherwise he'd have his work cut out for him even more than he already does.

"Which rooms?"

"Rooms 15, 18, 19, 22, 24, and 25." For each room Karen lists off, Peter shoots a web to the corresponding door. When the six lines of webbing are attached to their respective doors, he pulls as hard as he can in one fell swoop to rip the doors off their hinges. As soon as he does, he pulls himself forward with a web and starts rounding people up, quite literally. Anyone who's too weak to walk he attaches a web to them and pulls them into the hallway. Those who are strong enough to walk on their own, he tells to go to the far window at the end of the hall. Once he has everyone rounded up, he selects a Splitter Web and shoots multiple streams to the ground. He successfully creates a makeshift ramp to the ground and shoots two Web Grenades at the bottom to act as padding, just in case.

"You have to go down the ramp-slide-thingy! I swear it's safe! Please go!" With time running out and the hotel starting to crumble, he swings out the window and up to the top floor. "Okay, there's less people up here. You can do this, Spider-Man, you can do this." Everyone seems to be out of their rooms on the third floor, but they're more panicked. When he notices that their stairway is blocked, he understands why. "It's, it's okay. I got everyone else out and I have a way to get you guys out too," he gets their attention and tries to reassure them. His eyes linger on two young girls who look beyond terrified. "Everyone to the-" The building shakes, causing almost all of them to fall. Peter maintains his balance and gets to work pulling everyone into a collective heap. Then…the ceiling starts to give way. A massive piece of drywall accompanied by insulation and heating ducts comes crashing down above them. Before he can even think of what he should do, he has the crushing weight of the entire slab attempting to smash him into the floor. The people around him gasp in shock and horror. With his eyes clamped shut and his breathing forced, he yells, "Go to the window! There's a slide!" Immediately, they're all scrambling towards the open window.

"Peter, your heart rate and blood pressure are elevated. There is also a mixture of toxic substances in your lungs. You need to get out." Karen's voice is no longer patient or calm. She sounds almost as panicked as Peter feels. More debris falls on top and around him from the ceiling. His shoulders burn as he tries to not be crushed by the overwhelming weight.

"Thank you, Karen. I'm working on it," he manages a sarcastic reply. He feels warm liquid begin to drip from his palms, but he keeps his eyes screwed shut. His breathing is only getting faster, which only confuses him. His muscles are tense and his jaw is clenched shut as if a single wrong movement would mean his death.

"You have lifted objects heavier than this. What's wrong?" Karen inquires.

God she's right, but I have no idea. Why can't I lift it? I've stopped a bus with my bare hands! I lifted a building off my- His breath hitches. I lifted a building off myself. It's happening again. Not again. Oh god, not again. I can't…I can't do that again. Not, not after what happened last time. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.