It had been a long day. Peter had been out most of the night on patrol, which he had regretted since he woke up this morning to go to school. He overslept, which led to him missing the train and it hadn't got any better, given that they had had a surprise quiz in history, and let's just say that history wasn't on Spiderman's top priorities right now.
Well, he was on his way home now, looking forward to relaxing a bit.
"Remember to buy the cake, Peter," Karen said.
Peter didn't need Karen to remind him. She had helped him keep a system in his schedule, which had resulted in a bit more organization in his busy everyday life as Peter Parker; high school student and Your Friendly Neighborhood; Spiderman, and he actually managed to keep up with almost all his dates now, thanks to Karen. But this, he would never forget.
He had promised aunt May to pick up the cake. It was Uncle Ben's birthday… Or it would have been his birthday… and aunt May insisted that they kept it a happy day because that's what Ben would have wanted. Therefore, May would leave work as early as possible, so Peter and herself, could eat Ben's favorite, chocolate cake together, and talk about all kinds of nice and fun things.
Peter had barely left the bakery, with a white box between his hands, when his Spider-sense tickled. He turned around, to see a police car, lurching down the street, as the windshield was covered in a thick, yellow pile of grease. Peter's reflexes kicked in as he jumped away, right before the car crashed into the bakery's window, glass shattering all over the place!
Peter instantly knew who was behind this; The Trapster. Or at least he was pretty sure that it was him, given that he didn't know any other supervillain that could make that kind of nasty glue. Anyway, Peter instantly found his way to the roof of the nearest building, where he changed into his Spider-man suit, and left his backpack and the white box to safety. "Hey, Karen, how's the time?" Peter asked.
"There are approximately 21 minutes before the next train leaves," Karen answered. Good, that should be time enough, Peter thought, before he swung back down to deal with the Trapster. Peter had fought him before and knew that he wasn't nearly as tough as he wanted to be. He should be able to handle him in a couple of minutes, especially with the new suit, he had gotten from mister Stark.
"Hey glue-head!" he called out before he started shooting webs at the villain.
"There you are, bug. I thought this might get your attention!" the Trapster yelled, shooting the glue towards him.
Peter managed to dodge most of them but soon found himself glued to a wall. Oh no. "Karen, please tell me that there is something in this suit, that can cut me loose!" he called out.
"There are your laser shooters."
"Laser shooters? Cool! I .. I mean; activate them!" Peter soon had his right arm free, but before he could cut the rest of the glue, his spider-sense tickled again. He looked down and saw the Trapster reloading his glue-gun. "Shit!" Something in Peter took over, and he aimed towards the Trapster's gun, firing spin. The web hit the gun perfectly, blocking the hole and making it explode due to the pressure.
"Wow! That was awesome!" Peter cheered. Pretty proud of himself, he returned to the roof, leaving the rest to the police.
Just as he was about to take off his mask he noticed the large, grey pigeon, that had landed near his backpack, right next to the white box!
"Hey, hey, sho, sho," Peter began waving at it.
The pigeon just looked at him, before it started picking at the box, pushing it closer to the edge. "No, no, no!" Peter exclaimed, sprinting towards the bird. That was a very bad idea, because it scared the pigeon, when he got closer, making it violently flap its large wings, to get away knocking the box over.
"Shit!" Peter exclaimed. It was like things happened in slow-motion; the box falling and Peter moving to save it. He bent down, reaching for the box as it fell. If he could just grace it, his spider-powers make it stick to his fingers. He was so close, he could almost touch it. However, Peter was beaten by gravity, as he practically found himself stumbling over the edge.
Oh no, this wasn't good!
He reached his arm above his head, to shoot spin and swing back to safety, but nothing came out. He had used all his web fluid! The was definitely not good!
He screamed and tried to shield his face with his arms even though he knew that it wouldn't save him from a fall this many feet from the ground. He would die in less than a couple of seconds!
However, he never felt himself hitting the hard asphalt. Instead, he felt something hard wrapping around his ankle. Peter opened his eyes and saw that was no longer falling, instead something was raising him back up in the air. What on earth? Peter looked up at his ankle, and eyes widened: Iron Man was holding a firm grip on his ankle. He briefly gazed down at the teenager, giving him a little wave, with his free hand. "Hey, kid, hanging out?"
Tony carefully laid Peter down on the same roof he had fallen from. "You know, last time I checked, you do not have the ability to fly."
"Huh?" Peter looked up as his mentor, trying to see straight. His heart was racing from the near-death experience and his was gasping for air, like the night Tony had saved him from drowning. Except he had been falling to his death from a building, and not actually drowning. Another difference was that Tony hadn't just sent a suit this time; he was actually here, stepping out of his armor the only way Tony Stark could do.
Peter wanted to stand up and thank him properly like a man, but the dizziness made him lose balance before he was even standing.
"No, nope. Stay down. Just sit," Tony said as he knelt down beside him and pulled off the mask. "Here. Kid. Look that me. Yeah, that's right. Try to focus. How many fingers do you see?" Tony held up a hand.
Even though Peters sight was getting clearer, the hand still appeared to dance around in front of him. " Uhm … four?"
"Well, close enough," Tony mumbled. "But I think we're just gonna sit here a little, okay?"
Peter wanted to say: "No I'm fine, Mr. Stark." But all came out was: "Uhuh…"
"Good. Let's see… try holding your head between your legs. That should help." Peter did as he was told and felt a comforting hand on his back. Slowly he started to feel his head clear up, and his heart rate slowing down to normal.
After a couple of minutes, he sat back up straight and looked at his mentor, who gave him a comforting smile. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Yeah. Thank you, Mr. Stark," he mumbled.
"No problem." Tony gave him a firm clap on the back before he stood up. "Good thing I got an alert about the Trapster-guy, otherwise, you would have been toast. Now tell me; what heck were you thinking, to jumping off a rooftop without making sure that you have enough web-fluid?"
"Well, I..I was trying to save…" His blood ran cold. He quickly looked around, only to see that there was no white box beside him. "Oh no! Mr. Stark, please tell me, that you saved the cake!"
Tony raised an eyebrow. "The cake? What are you talking about?"
Peter didn't answer. Instead, he quickly stumbled to his feet and ran to the edge of the roof – Tony right behind him – looking down at the street. Even though it was a long way down, Peter could still make out a brown spot on the sideway. He sighed and bowed his head. The cake was ruined. And it was his fault. How stupid would you have to be, to put it so close to the edge of a tall building?
"Hey cheer up," Tony said. "There is a bakery right down there… oh. Nope. No, it has been crashed by a police car."
"Yeah, I know," Peter mumbled.
"Well it's just a cake anyway, right?"
"Yeah. It's just a cake," Peter mumbled, not looking his mentor in the eye. "Well, I've got to get home. Aunt May is waiting for me." And Uncle Ben's cake.
o*o*o*
"Where have you been?" May asked the moment Peter stepped through the door.
"I'm sorry. I missed the train," Peter answered and dropped the backpack where he stood. He didn't feel like mentioning the Trapster. Even though aunt May had accepted that he was Spiderman (after scolding him for days about doing something that dangerous) Peter still thought that the less he told her about the supervillains and other crazy things, the better.
"Then you text me, you know that," May said, placing her hands on her hips. "Peter I was worried sick. I mean I know you have your powers and all that Stark-tech-stuff, but still!"
"I know. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I'm so sorry. I promise it won't happen again. I'm sorry."
"Good." She walked over and pulled him into a tight hug. "I know that I'm probably overreacting. It's just with all these crazy things happening right now – superheroes fighting each other – and today being today…"
Peter felt a stab to the heart. "Yeah. I know."
She let him go. "Now. Let's not talk anymore about that. Let's just sit down and eat the cake, all right?"
"Aunt May, I uhm…" Peter began, but he still didn't know how to explain it to her. He knew that it had just been a cake, but it was a cake for a very special day, so they could have a good time, in spite of bad memories. He wanted so badly to give her that… but since he couldn't, he felt like he was letting her down.
However, before Peter could begin to apologize, it knocked on the door. May walked over and both of them were very surprised by the sight that met them: There stood Happy. Holding a white box between his hands. "Hello, Mrs. Parker," he said. "Mr. Stark asked me to bring you this." He handed her the box.
"Oh, what is it?" May asked, giving Happy a skeptical look.
"It's the cake Mr. Parker requested."
May turned around a looked at Peter. "Peter, did you ask Tony Stark for a cake?"
"Uhm… yeah…erh…" Peter said, having a hard time wrapping his head around it.
"A police-car crashed into the bakery nearby, before Mr. Parker could get a cake, so Mr. Stark offered to… help him out, given how important it seemed to be," Happy explained.
"Yeah, exactly," Peter said.
"Well…" May said, still looking quite skeptical. "That was very nice of him."
"I'll be sure to tell him that," Happy said. "Good day."
May closed the door. "Huh… Can you believe that guy?"
"No," Peter mumbled. "I can't."
o*o*o*
Peter was sitting on the roof, in his Spiderman suit, eating a slice of cake, and looking at the stars. When he had been a little kid, Uncle Ben would sometimes bring him outside in the evening and look at the bright night sky. Peter remembered Uncle Ben telling him, that his parents now lived up there, looking down at him, always there to watch over him. Peter knew that it wasn't true though, but it was still a nice thought, and it made him feel like he was never alone.
He had waited until after May had gone to bed, to go out here. He understood why she wanted today to be a happy day like it used to. He wanted that too. But it wasn't easy. Over time, he had learned to deal with the loss and the awful feeling of guilt, that he probably never would be able to shake.
"Good to see that you haven't gotten scared of heights, Underoos."
Peter turned around and saw the Iron Man suit land on the roof. Peter instantly stood up, trying to dry the crumble off from his face. "Mr. Stark! Is something wrong?"
"No, no, everything is fine," the billionaire answered as he stepped out of his suit. "I just wanted to… uhm... to know why you were fussing so much about that cake."
Peter knew that that wasn't the real reason. If that had been it, Tony had probably just shot him a text. He still found that he had to answer; "Well, uhm… It would have been my uncle's birthday today, and my aunt wanted to make something special. So, it would still be a good day, even though he is not here to celebrate it with us."
"I see," Tony answered. "So what was he like, your Uncle Ben?"
"Oh, he was the best. I mean, he was smart and funny, and he was always there for me. He would always support me in what I was doing, even though aunt May called us crazy. He was just… He was always there, you know, when I needed him, no matter what. He could always give me the advice I needed and guide me…"
"He sounds like a great guy," Tony said.
"Yeah. He was," Peter mumbled with a wry smile. He looked down at the plate, between his hands. Tony tried to meet the teenager's eyes, but Peter wouldn't look up again. Before he could stop his brilliant tongue, he heard himself ask: "What happened to him?"
The question made Peter look up, and for a moment, Tony could have sworn that he saw fear, in the kid's eyes. "He, uhm… he was killed, almost a year ago. Shot when he tried to stop a robbery. It was my fault." Peter hadn't meant to say the last part out loud. Even though it was true. He turned away from his mentor, as his eyes were getting wet.
"Your fault? How could it be your fault?" Tony asked.
"He… gave me a ride to the library. I had forgotten to return a book, so he helped me out, so I wouldn't get a ticket," Peter began. He remembered how confused and lost he had felt back then. He had just gotten his powers, and knowing that he couldn't tell anyone, he had distanced himself from everyone. "On my way back, I wanted to buy a soda, but… while I was in there, the store was robbed, and I just stood there… did nothing... The thief got away… w..when I was on my way back… to the car… I s..saw uncle B..Ben… he was fighting the guy… fr..from the store..."
The plate fell to the ground, shattering, as Peter could no longer hold back the tears. This was the first time he had talked told anybody about this. Not Aunt May or Ned… No one knew that he could have… his body started shaking as he covered his face with his hands. He found himself being back in time, standing on the other side of the street, that night. He heard the gunshot, followed by his own scream, as he watched his uncle collapse on the ground.
Peter felt a pair of arms getting wrapped around his shoulders, and pull him into a hug, bringing him back to the present. He had never thought that he would actually get to hug his idol. That time in the car had just been awkward and he thought that it would be the closest he would ever get to… but here he stood, on the top of a roof, just letting himself accept the warm, comforting, embrace, hulking into the billionaire's shoulder. Tony gently ran a hand up Peters back and started rubbing his neck. Peter didn't know how long they stood like that, and frankly, he didn't care either.
"That wasn't your fault, kid," Tony said softly when Peter's crying had changed into small sobs. Slowly he let go of the teenager.
"Y..yes… it was… I..I had my..powers… I..I could've… I should've…"
"No," Tony said, shaking his head.
"Yes!" Peter almost yelled, pulling himself away stepping a few steps backward. "Do you know, what the last thing he said to me was? He said: `with great power, comes great responsibility'! But I didn't listen, I was just so…"
It suddenly made sense to Tony, why Peter wanted to fight crimes so badly. "Look, when you can do the things, that I can... but you don't... and then the bad things happen, they happen, because of you". He was trying to make up for a mistake that had been eating him up for almost a year now.
Tony walked closer, putting his hands firmly on Peters' shoulders. "Now you listen to me, kid. I did not know this uncle Ben of yours, but I am 99,99% sure, that he loved you, and that he wouldn't want you to go around blaming yourself for what happened!"
Peter looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He knew that Tony was right. He felt himself sinking down on the ground. "You're right, Mr. Stark. You're right."
Tony sad down beside Peter. "And frankly, I think that he would be proud of you if he could see you now."
Peter looked up at his mentor as if he wanted to protest.
"Nah ah, hear me out: You're using your powers for good, looking out for the little guy and all that stuff. I'm pretty sure that that 's what he meant by what he said to you."
Peter just nodded. He had always believed that that was what uncle Ben wanted him to do, but hearing Tony Stark say it, felt like an affirmation.
"It's just so hard… Sometimes… I Just can't believe that he's really gone. I miss him so much," Peter mumbled. He pulled his knees up to his chin with his arms around his legs. Tony just sat beside him and listened. "My parents disappeared when I was four years old, and Uncle Ben and Aunt May took me in, raising me as their own, and making me feel like… I wasn't alone. Now without Uncle Ben… I mean, I still have Aunt May, and she great but… it's just like… something is missing."
Tony hesitated before he laid an arm around the boy. He hadn't expected the kid to open up to him like that. Especially not about a hard topic like this. "Look, kid. I'll probably never be able to live up to the man your uncle was. But… I want you to know that you have me, okay? And I'm not going anywhere." It felt so strange to say out loud, but Tony meant every single word.
Peter looked up at the billionaire, and asked with a weak voice: "Really?"
"Of course, Underoos. I mean, I just got you a cake. What more do I have to do to prove that I'm here for you?"
Peter couldn't help but giggling at the comment, as another tear fell from his eye.
