Birthday fic for a dear friend. She jokingly requested 'The Lizard and my Fist, or whatever that inspires you' and that spawned this fic.
Happy Birthday Helen! May you find happiness at your new school, realize that even bad memories can fade with time, and know that you are beautiful in all the right ways. I hope you enjoy this.
I only saw this once in the theatre, so forgive me for any glaring mistakes or discrepancies. I did my best to research the Marvel comics, but that just caused more confusion, so for my sake, this mostly disregards the comic books and just follows the movie.
This is my first fic in this fandom, so I hope it's not too terrible. Also, I unabashedly apologize for all bad Flash puns.
Honestly, it all started out with a punch to the face. It was a real sucker punch delivered by the one and only Captain Stacy, and it landed square in the jaw of the Lizard. It was executed the same time as the Godzilla wannabe's fatal slash, so the punch snapped his head back, and his claws flinched slightly, just enough to graze the police officer's chest and miss all vital organs.
That was the god idiotic move that saved his life. It left Captain Stacy with a memorable battle scar, and unruined pride so long as his officers never reviewed the Oscorp security footage of him getting knocked back by that attack and falling three feet to pass out not from an epic battle with a lizard but a bump to the head.
Spider-man still defeats the Lizard, still nearly faces a fall to the death, still gets rescued by Dr. Conners and still goes sprinting towards Captain Stacy fearing for his potential father-in-law's life. Peter starts shaking and pawing him to awake, so Stacy opens his eyes.
Captain Stacy knows he isn't dying, knows that the terror is taken care of, but he still makes Peter Parker promise he will leave his daughter alone. Alright, he might have overplayed the wish of a dying man card, but come on, Gwen was not dating a man who wore spandex.
Peter promised, so after one guilty trip to the hospital to visit Captain Stacy, he broke it off with Gwen. She was heartbroken for about two minutes, but she was also one tough girl, and deduced it was her father, so she stormed off to the hospital after throwing her notebook at him. "We'll break it off when you come up with an algorithm for that problem."
Peter blinked. And smiled down at Gwen's cursive scrawl. He could probably figure it out before his next lecture was over, but then again, she never gave him a deadline.
He wondered if a promise to a dying man counted if the man was still alive.
Probably not.
The city exploded with excitement over their masked vigilante after the fight. Captain Stacy discreetly withdrew the arrest warrant and during a news conference, explained his orders to take down Spider-man only if he expressed actions of ill intent towards New York City. Street vendor sales of pretend web-shooters, red and blue spandex, and spidey masks exploded. It was difficult to walk down a street without somebody mentioning the neighborhood's new hero.
All was well, besides the Daily Bugle's eternal hate for Spider-man.
Gwen had been avoiding Peter for the past few days, when she suddenly cornered him by his locker. "Hey."
"Uh, hi." He smiled tentatively, for even though she said she would speak to her dad, she hadn't spoken to him.
She returned him a bemused smile. "I've been busy at Oscorp after that battle. Not avoiding you," she reassured, bumping his arm slightly. "Anyway, after school today, room 213." With a swagger to her hips, she called before leaving, "Don't be late!"
Peter grinned, he didn't really know what to imagine-actually he knew exactly what he was imagining-but his happy cloud quickly evaporated into confusion when he opened the door to room 213 at the end of the day, and was met with many pairs of eyes.
"Parker!" Flash was before him, in well, a flash. "I wasn't expecting you here!"
"Uh," Peter blinked. "Gwen asked me to be here, whatever this is?"
Flash's eyes flashed. (Sorry, I'll stop.) "Really Stacy, Parker of all people?" He turned around to look pointedly at Gwen, who sent a happy wave at Peter. She gestured him over to the empty chair beside her, and Flash ignored them to welcome the next incoming person.
"Hey Gwen," Peter smiled. "What's all this?" He looked around the room. A number of chairs had been placed in a circle, and there were students from every grade gathered here.
Gwen smiled, "This, Peter, is destiny."
"Huh?"
Suddenly Flash yelled out to the room, "Alright everybody. Thanks for coming to the first meeting of Midtown Science High School's Official Spider-man Fan Club!"
Peter started choking, and Gwen gently rubbed his back.
Flash flashed his eyes at their corner. (Alright, so I lied.) "Got something to say, Parker?"
Peter coughed one final time, and looked like he was about to say something Gwen didn't like, so she held onto his arm and said, "Oh, Peter wanted to volunteer to be secretary."
Ensue more coughing.
Flash looked confused for a bit, but you had to hand it to him, he recovered quickly. "Huh, not my first choice, but we do need a full cabinet to be approved for club charter. Alright, anybody have objections?"
Nobody spoke up. Well Peter tried to, but when he raised his arms, Gwen pushed them back down. And when he opened his mouth, she pressed her lips to his and he definitely stayed quiet after that. Their neighboring club members looked away uncomfortably at the couple.
They broke their kiss when Flash threw a notepad at him. "Alright Parker. You're secretary. Keep good notes. I want minutes every meeting, and fill out the charter form by Friday alright?"
Peter groaned softly into Gwen's shoulder. "Why are you punishing me?"
She whispered back, "Remember when you threw me out the window?"
"I was trying to protect you," he objected.
She just grinned and focused her attention back to Flash, who glared at them. "Parker," he barked.
Peter jerked his head off her shoulder. "Uh, what?"
A few people around the room giggled. Sophie, a sophomore to his right, whispered, "We're doing self-introductions."
Oh, that explains why she said she was Sophie, a sophomore in pep band, playing the trumpet. And why everyone was looking at him. "Oh, um. Peter. Peter Parker, I'm a senior. I take photos. Of things. I mean, uh, I like photography." His face turned beet red. There was a reason why it took Gwen and him forever to start their dating/not-dating thing.
Gwen recovered fabulously like always, "Hi everyone. I'm Gwen Stacy, senior as well. I'm an intern at Oscorp, and my interest is in biochemistry. Of course, my true love interest will always be Spider-man." She smiled cheerfully, and Peter flushed because he was sure she purposely directed that towards him.
"Perfect answer, Gwen. Because that's why we're all here," Flash continued smoothly. "But first off, we need to establish that we're not here to impede Spider-man in any way, but to assist him. The Daily Bugle is once again slandering our city's hero, and we can't have that. Therefore, I'm gonna need some volunteers to go write angry letters to the editor." He turned toward the brunette with thick-rimmed glasses. "Jenny here has already sent off a few, so if you need help, just find her.
"Besides that, Dylan," Flash sent off a charming smile to the blushing sophomore, "had this brilliant idea. Since Spider-man actually was here at our school, saving us, we should do start a collection of gifts. Like a clothes drive, but with presents. From everyone who wants to thank Spider-man for what he has done to save us and our city."
A girl, Vanessa, spoke up. "But Flash, how will we get our gifts to Spider-man?"
"Aha! And this is the brilliant part of our endeavor. We'll put up posters, signs, all around the city telling Spider-man to come to our school roof-I've discussed it with the janitor and the principal, it's okay, they adore me-where we will have gathered presents of appreciation for him. Cards, chocolates, balloons, anything actually." Flash then paused. "I've actually baked some brownies for him," he said bashfully, ducking his head slightly to hide his flushed cheeks.
Peter raised both of his eyebrows. This was quite bewildering considering Flash had hated Peter since they sat next to each other in eight a.m. chemistry freshman year, and now he was secretly (or not so secretly) harboring a huge crush on him. Well not him, per say. But him. In tight spandex.
Awkward.
Of course Gwen would be having a real kick at this. Peter sighed and started summarizing the meeting. He couldn't believe this.
"Alright, next order of business, despite that everybody has seen Spider-man around the city, we don't have any real footage or pictures of him. I'd like to start a photo squad, where we will be on the lookout to capture images of his heroism. Anything, from the masterfully pinned criminals to the walls with his web to him swinging from the Empire State Building. I have been in contact one of the administrators for The Camera Club of New York, and they are quite enthused about this project as well, so they're offering a contest to all the high schoolers in the city. The top winners will get a new fancy camera and a summer internship."
Peter felt Gwen squeeze his hand, and he smiled back weakly. The Lizard destroyed his camera (Peter felt his stomach squirm; the camera had been something he wanted for a very long time and after saving up, it was a gift from Uncle Ben and Aunt May his sophomore year) and a new one from the CCNY was enticing, but he wasn't sure if he was up for this whole contest that involved capturing images of himself to be put on display.
"Besides the contest, any and all photos can be uploaded to our club's own website. Felicia here set it up, but she would like a few volunteers to help her run it as well."
"I'll do it," Gwen raised her hand and shot a smile at Felicia.
Peter felt utterly, utterly betrayed.
"Perfect." Flash clapped his hands together. "Now if anyone here has any talent in playwriting, we should propose a Spider-man musical for the Spring Comedy."
Peter groaned, and his face landed on the desk.
Flash so gracefully ignored his secretary-who was not so subtly trying to stab himself with a pencil-and continued. "Who knows where this will lead? My friends, we're leading a revolution! I predict, that not too soon, there will be a Spider-man musical on Broadway!"
Peter groaned again. "Kill me now."
Gwen gasped, "How can we?" She brought her face close to his ear for a teasing whisper. "You have yet to try Flash's brownies. I heard he laced them with love and adoration."
Peter never wanted to hurt and kiss someone with the same intensity before.
"By the way, my father wants to talk to you. Dinner's at six-thirty, don't be late." Right before she pulled away from his ear, she said. "It's branzino again."
Before Peter showed up at Gwen's window (her doorman never ceased to be intimidating), he had visited the New York Public Library to look up food etiquette, but sadly, the books held little or no helpful information on eating a whole fish. He would have to rely on his memory of the last dinner, except all he could remember was Captain Stacy terrorizing him for being on Spider-man's side. And now that he knew he was Spider-man, Peter wondered if they would even get to the main part of the meal.
Well, at least he wouldn't have to face the fish.
Surprisingly, Captain Stacy never brought up Spider-man. Unsurprisingly, Gwen's ten-year-old brother had to help him again with the fish. This time, Peter swore to pay attention. Of course, he was distracted because the conversation went like this:
"So Peter, Gwen tells me you're a photographer."
"Um, yes, Mrs. Stacy. Not recently because, uh, my camera got into an accident, but I do a lot of the photography around school."
"That must be nice. I'd like to see your work sometime."
"Oh! Definitely. I can bring over my portfolio next time. I mean, if there is a next time. Not that I'm inviting myself over but, uh-"
"No, bring it over sometime, Peter."
"Uh, you sure, Captain Stacy?"
"Yes. A friend of Gwen is welcome in our home." Anybody could hear the dripping emphasis on friend.
"What about a boyfriend, dad?"
"Well Gwen, a boyfriend would first have to be acquainted with Uncle Background Check, and Grandpa Glock 19. That boyfriend will also have to know that I need not a shotgun and an acre in the backyard because I have a police force and seventy prisons." Pause. "Also, your boyfriend must be a man who keeps his word. You keep your word, Peter?"
"Uh, yes of course."
"So knowing that, Peter. Are you Gwen's...?"
"Friend." Peter felt Gwen kick him under the table.
"Great. So, friend of Gwen's, would you like to stay for cherry apple pie?"
Gwen stayed mad for about two hours after the dinner, so Peter kept calling, stopped a few store robberies, picked up a cheesecake from Junior's, and swung onto her balcony around ten.
She forgave him by the time he kissed the crumbs off her lips.
It was difficult balancing life between being a high school student, being a superhero, being a good nephew/son to Aunt May, being a good boyfriend to his not-girlfriend Gwen, and being the secretary for his own fanclub. Sure the baked goods were great-okay, he had to admit Flash may have used to (still kind of) be a dick, but he can sure whip up a mighty fine creme brulee.
(And Spider-man might have played up the theatrics a bit by leaving 'thank-you' notes for the club on the roof, one time shooting out a message composed of webbing. The club loved it. That got him a delicious array of danishes for a week. It was awesome.)
Alright, so maybe he was taking advantage of the club, but honestly, they just left it for him. But when Gwen started complaining about her waistline and Peter felt the spandex becoming a bit too tight, he pulled all stops and started donating the treats to local food pantries and soup kitchens. The New York Times had a brilliant article on that move, whereas the Daily Bugle claimed Spider-man was menacing the impoverished of New York.
When Midtown Science High School's Official Spider-man Fan Club caught wind, they (Peter and Gwen aside) were dismayed that Spider-man would no longer be privately sampling their goods, but elated that their belief in the good of Spider-man was preserved. The collection of baked goods only increased, now with the combined efforts of other local high schools in Manhattan. Rather than Spider-man swinging down to the roof around dusk (where the designated photographer would be waiting for the photo opportunity), the club voted to deliver the food directly on the behalf of Spider-man, "so our good hero would not have to waste his precious time" quoted word for word from Flash.
With Gwen's tasteful suggestion, the club designed t-shirts that at first was for solely members, but when the school caught wind of the design (Spiderman swinging across the Manhattan skyline as the sun set, with the waving American flag on one sleeve, and an blackened outline of a spider on the other; Peter thought it was a bit too much, Flash thought it was perfect), demand for the shirt rose, and they began doing t-shirt sales too.
All the money was donated to the Red Cross, under the name of Spider-man.
Peter began getting suspicious texts from a blocked number. It was always at random hours, with nothing but a street address and the word 'URGENT'. When he arrived at the location, there would always be a crime or accident taking place. More often than not, the police would be outnumbered or arriving too late.
Peter wondered if perhaps somebody was initiating a crime-watch for him, but Gwen and her paranoia warned him to be careful. She offered to trace the number for him, but Peter reminded her that his mysterious contact wanted a hidden identity and was not harming anybody. He couldn't blame him or her for being anonymous when he himself had yet to remove his mask in public.
Instead he replied to every text after resolving each conflict with a 'thank you. can i meet you?' and a winking smiley face. Gwen disapproves, but she also disapproves of him bribing her with cheesecake every time they fight but she always eats it anyway.
To Peter's surprise, dinners at the Stacy's never ended. It became a bi-monthly thing, where Gwen would just tell him, "branzino" and Peter would show up promptly at seven. Of course, it took the first three times for the doorman to finally (grudgingly) accept that Peter was to be a regular presence at the Stacy residence.
It wasn't always branzino, but more often than not, it was. Peter figured it wasn't because the family had an overly-sickening fascination with the fish, but because the manner in which Peter attempted to tackle his dinner was always amusing.
After Peter finally defeated branzino, Mrs. Stacy (or Captain Stacy, who knew) furthered tested his patience, table manners and dexterity by placing a whole lobster on his plate. Peter felt great pride in him when Gwen's younger brother's applauded his ability to retrieve all the meat. He explained to Gwen afterwards in her bedroom-ducking under Captain Stacy's penetrating stare-that Uncle Ben used to take him to Maine for long weekends and lobster was one dish they always shared good memories over.
And then he had the slightest inkling Gwen was in on this lets-embarrass-the-new-boy-at-dinner ploy when during the following dinner, Mrs. Stacy placed in front of him, a whole dungeness crab.
Dinner with Aunt May was a much more casual affair, where everyone laughed boisterously, the radio would be playing the tunes of 106.7 Lite FM from the living room, and even the occasional spaghetti would be thrown around although everybody sitting at the table was no longer five years old. But when Aunt May saw the tender way Peter wiped the tomato sauce off the corner of Gwen's lips, she kept all patronizing remarks to herself because the enamored looks those children sent to each other was a reminder of all the years her and Ben loved each other.
Gwen would always offer to help with the dishes after dinner and May would always refuse, and instead push them outside to the living room where they would play a simple game of cards or Jenga or Scrabble-except those games were never simple because they were both geniuses acting as high schoolers.
Sometimes she would send them out into the streets at night saying they ran out of milk or eggs when she just wanted some time alone. Seeing them together alway sent throbbing aches in her chest and she would curl up in bed, wrapped up in one of Ben's old sweaters. She would breathe deeply, imagining Ben was still lying beside her, and the warmth and smell would lull her to sleep. She would stir awake just enough when Peter came home to send him a soft smile, but Peter would be the one comforting her on those nights, when he tucked her in under the sheets and pressed a soft kiss to her head.
Everything was going well until the day Spider-man's anonymous texter called him instead. He was sharing waffles and ice cream with Gwen (they did other things besides eat okay? They had been looking at some art galleries in the Fuller Building before Peter's spider appetite kicked in) when his phone rang out, and Peter looked down surprised at the Incoming Call instead of New Message.
"Should I pick up?"
Gwen pushed the maraschino cherry around the melting ice cream. They always had a mini-fight over who got to eat it in the end. "He's been leading you into dangerous situations, Peter. Most of the time, even before the police get there. How could he possibly know what's going on? I don't think he's someone safe."
Three rings, and before he could think deeper into what Gwen said, Peter picked up. "Hello?" There was a chance that this 'Private Number' could be someone entirely different , and if not, he was not going to miss the chance of the person revealing his identity.
"Peter. 540 Washington Street." A gasp of pain, and a deep breath. "When you get there, 26 E. Now! Hurry!" And then the phone call was dropped.
Peter looked at his phone in shock. This person knew his identity. Peter tried to place the voice, it was deep, definitely male, sounded a bit familiar but there was labored breathing, and dissonant shouting in the background.
"Peter? Is everything okay?" Gwen had a worried look on her face.
Peter grabbed for his wallet. "Listen, he sounded hurt. I have to go."
"It could be a trap."
Peter shook his head. "Or it could not be. He asked for me, I have to go."
Gwen nodded. "Alright," she pushed his hand and wallet back down. "Go, now! I'll take care of the check."
"Thanks Gwen," Peter said and got up swiftly. He pressed a kiss to her temple and headed for the door.
Gwen just shook her head slightly, and reached for that last cherry. "Check please," she called out, and then lowered her voice to a whisper, "Be careful Peter."
She had an unsettling feeling in her stomach about this.
540 Washington was in West SoHo of Lower Manhattan. Peter hurried and when he arrived he understood what the caller meant. The location displayed what appeared to be a row of storage units, each labeled and with steel security shutters locking them down tightly. It didn't take long for Peter to identify 26 E, but there was no entrance way. It was late afternoon, and there was nobody in sight.
Peter swung up onto the roof, and smirked when he saw a way in from the top. The moment he went in, he realized why he was called. There was half a dozen men, all heavily armed, wearing masks that he recognized from Midtown's latest bank robbery this afternoon. They emptied out the bank vault and were on the run. Gwen told him her father was on the case, so he relaxed, but now the men were clearly hiding out here. Where were the police?
"Hey man, we got to go. Can't stay here. The police be looking for us." One of the robbers, the impatient one pacing about, gestured wildly to his co-robbers. "We shot that one cop who was tailing us too close. He could be near."
"Just shut up and stop wearing yourself out, Victor. The man's probably dead. I don't miss. And police can't do shit as long as we still have the hostages in place. Long as we can explode the bomb from here, they can't touch us." The robber must not have seen him, or was not very bright because he waved around his phone/detonator as he spoke.
Peter shot his web in the next second and pulled it right out of the robber's hand. And then shot out more to trap two robbers into the ground before the others started shooting at him.
"Whoah! Watch it," Peter said as he dodged the bullets. Running up to one, he disarmed the man with a swift kick, and sent him flying into the wall. With a second thought, he shot some webbing to make he stayed there. Three down, three to go.
Two shots rang out, and two more men went down. Well, one more then.
Peter whirled around to see the shooter, but the mysterious assailant had disappeared once again behind the metal crates littering the warehouse. He probably shouldn't have turned his back on the final robber either, for he felt the gun barrel pressed snugly right between his shoulder blades.
Peter froze. He could probably move fast enough to avoid a lethal shot, but he promised Gwen he would avoid injuries for at least two weeks.
"Shouldn't have come, Spider-man. I'm not like the others, don't hate you and all, you a funny guy, but you messing with my plans, bro." The robber's voice was distorted by the mask, but Peter still heard him loud and clear. "Who's your friend, huh? Tell him to come out."
"I don't know," Peter replied quite honestly, but the man pressed the gun harder.
"Don't fucking lie to me. Come out! Right now or I kill your buddy Spider-man." The man walked Peter closer to the shooter's location. "So, what is it? You got a sidekick Robin that you're hiding from the public?"
The man pulled out a knife and held it close to Peter's throat, freeing up the gun to aim in the shooter's direction. Or that was probably the plan.
It was a dumb move because the moment he started to move the gun, Peter grabbed onto the hand holding the knife and pulled it away from his body, twisting the man's arm. He slammed his elbow backwards hard into the other man, who choked on the pain and dropped the gun. Moving his hand to trip the man's neck tightly, Peter slammed the man's head against a crate, and the robber was down for the count.
Peter straightened himself, just in time to see Gwen's father step out from behind another metal crate with a gun in his right hand. His left arm was wounded from a gunshot. "Captain Stacy!"
"Nice job, Peter."
"You're injured. Do you need help?" Peter could probably swing the Captain to the nearest hospital in six minutes. He didn't want to jostle the wound though.
"I'm fine. Minor graze, nothing I can't handle." There was that dismissive tone again. Peter swallowed.
"Were you the one sending me the messages?"
Captain Stacy just stared him down, then completely ignored his question. "The bomb squad should be retrieving the hostages now. I'll be calling my men in, it's best that you leave."
Peter was still stunned, his brain stuck between 'Oh my god it's him' to 'And Gwen said this man couldn't be trusted'. "Uh right. Thank you, sir."
Peter prepared to swing himself back to the roof when Stacy said, "I don't get a smiley face this time?"
Peter tripped mid-step and almost falls off the roof.
"Branzino tomorrow night, Peter. Don't be late."
Peter could not keep the smile off his face as he swung his way through Manhattan and back to Forest Hills. To every high schooler with a camera, he sent them a small wave and wished them the best for the contest. He unknowingly (or was too elated to care) held up the checkout line at Whole Foods when he waited in his red and blue suit carrying a carton of organic eggs.
It had been Captain Stacy. He repeated in his head, and then two more times to Gwen until she shrieked in delight. Because this meant more than his anonymous tipper having an identity. It meant Peter was the boy who was (not) dating his daughter, and Spider-man was someone he could trust in protecting the city. On this day, Peter began to see acceptance for both of his identities.
Because it was two sides of a coin, but one coin just the same.