Kid Psionic sat on a rooftop, enjoying a sandwich when he felt a presence. He turned to see the all-too-familiar red-and-blue suit. "Oh, Spider-Dude." He nodded curtly and held out his lunch. "Want some?"

"I'm not here for— Did you get that from Delmar's?" Peter took a seat beside him, although a safe distance.

"You know it. The man knows what settles a young superguy's stomach." He scarfed the rest of it and dusted off his hands. "So, um, about a couple nights ago... I'm sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I can be a bit brutal but no one's ever... I respect you, Spidey. Really, I do."

Peter fidgeted with his shooters and looked up at the other. He wasn't sure how to respond to that. "You're not gonna keep going around murdering bad guys, are you?"

Kid Psionic exhaled. "I'll try not to. That's as good as it's gonna get, dude." He held out his hand. "Truce?"

Maybe it was because he trusted too easily or because he could imagine that smirk on the other guy's face but Peter reached out and shook it. "Truce."

"Awesome. Now, for starters, there is no way you're a man. No offense but you sound like a barely post-pubescent teenager." Kid Psionic was satisfied when both of Spider-Man's eyes went up. "I'll be totally honest with you, Spider-Boy. I'm still in high school. I'm seventeen, turning eighteen in a few months."

Peter couldn't help but wonder. Did the guy underneath the jumpsuit go to Midtown? His voice was vaguely familiar. "I'm also in my late teens." Lie. "Graduated early." More lies. "I just seem younger than I actually am."

Kid Psionic seemed to accept this. "Wow. Okay. So you are a man. Sort of." He gazed over the side of the roof. "Ugh, another shoplifter." He turned to Spider-Man and offered his hand. "Shall we?"

Peter was about to ask why but the other took his hand, and then he felt a previously unheard of whoosh and suddenly they were on the ground. "What was that?"

"I'm magic." Kid Psionic shot him finger guns and took off after the robber, leaving Peter stunned and trying to collect himself from the dizziness. The superhuman returned a minute later, holding the young teenager by the collar. The boy, probably around 13 or 14, was struggling. "You got caught. Calm down. I'm not going to call the cops. I was you once." He put him down. "Now go inside and apologize." The kid looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. "Do it or I won't."

The boy obeyed, leaving Peter to look at his new friend. "How did you do that? Do you like have mind control?"

A chuckle escaped the smaller hero. "No. I'm just extremely persuasive. I also promised the kid I'd show him my powers." He pulled out a phone. "And all for a fucking iPhone Eight. Jesus, people still buy these every year?"

When the kid emerged, Kid Psionic tossed it to the manager. "He's sorry. Right?"

"Yeah." He had a very guilty look on his face. "Won't do it again."

"Damn right you won't." Kid Psionic slung an arm around his shoulder, his other around Spider-Man. "Let's go. Spider-Man, this is Luke. Luke, Spider-Man."

Peter glanced at the teenager, who was staring at him in awe. "Wow. You're amazing."

"Thanks." Peter couldn't help but blush under the mask.


"Okay!" Peter hung upside-down from the above overpass while Luke sat on the ground. Kid Psionic held up his hands, aiming for an old dilapidated building. It was then Peter saw that Kid Psionic's gloves had holes in the palms. "Ready?" He didn't wait for an answer when two medium-sized orbs materialized, one made of fire, the other ice, hitting the side of the brick wall, both blasted right through.

"Whoa! That's so cool!" Luke jumped up and ran to check the damage.

Kid Psionic shook his head fondly. "Yeah. Pyrokinesis, cryokinesis and the ability to teleport. My st— I mean, sort of living associate is super strong, can fly and has a regenerative healing factor."

"You can use all of this for so much more." Peter jumped down beside him. "Have you ever wanted to be an Avenger?"

Kid Psionic let out a derisive scoff. "Like Iron Man would let me."

"I know Iron Man. I could talk to—"

"You don't have to do that, Spidey. It's fine. I'm better off on my own anyway. I'm a lone wolf." He stared at Luke, who was about to break down the ice. "Kid, let's get you home before your parents start to worry."

Luke paused, starting to lower the rock he was holding. "My parents aren't exactly around. Dad's on a business trip. Mom..." He threw the stone against the icy wall, shattering it. "She left two years ago. Haven't heard from her since."

Kid Psionic bent down beside Luke. "Well, at least you know she's out there. I don't have any parents. Mine died. Few months ago." The dark-haired boy wrapped his arms around the super. "Thanks, kid."

A flicker passed Peter. He wasn't sure but now he was curious. There was no way. "I'll see you later. Gotta get home." He waved. Kid Psionic waved back before he and Luke vanished.


Peter lay on his bed, simply thinking about his theory on who Kid Psionic was under the mask. The height difference, the fact that he was a high schooler, the deceased parents... He pulled out his StarkPhone to see a number of texts from Jackson throughout the day. His suspicions quelled for the time being, he scrolled through them. It was mostly obscure Star Wars factoids and goofy selfies. He couldn't help the smile playing at his lips. The guy was a total dork; they were so alike, except Jackson seemed to have more going on in the background. He'd seen him without his bracelets and, for a very brief second, without long sleeves. It made Peter sad to see the cuts along Jackson's left arm.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. It was an incoming FaceTime call from Jackson. He pressed the green button, only to be met with a dog. "Jackson?"

"There is no Jackson. Only Zuul!" A voice called out, and a hand made the dog's mouth move. "Jeez, you're a whole lot of fun." The Retriever got down to reveal Jackson, whose hair was more out of whack than usual. "Sup, Parker?"

"You named your dog Zuul?"

"What? Man, no one understands Ghostbusters anymore."

Peter grinned. "You don't want to cross streams with me?" His face reddened as soon as he said it.

"Oh my God. You are so gay for me." Jackson burst into laughter. "Kidding! Kidding. This is why you're my friend." He held the phone up, laying back. Zuul came up to his right and started licking his neck. "What is with you today? Only time she gets this affectionate is when she humps my leg." He turned to face the dog. "You've seen me with guys. I don't swing that way."

"We're having a decathlon meetup tomorrow if you want to come? It's at Bryant Park. Just some drills and stuff. General hanging out. You're one of us again."

Jackson wasn't exactly ideal about social interaction but it couldn't be all too horrible if Peter were there. He didn't like him like that. He had to remind himself. Sure, Peter was cute but in a dorky kind of way. He wasn't really looking for that kind of thing right now anyway.

"Sounds great!"


Jackson had gotten home after making sure Luke was settled. He couldn't help but feel protective over the younger teen. Maybe he could take him under his wing. But he couldn't compromise his secret identity.

Zuul came trotting over and looked up at him. "I left you with a very sizable portion, Your Highness. Are you telling me you're hungry?" An affirmative bark and the boy sighed. "Fine. I'll treat you."

After slicing up some steak into Zuul's bowl, the brunet flopped down on his bed and pulled out his phone to call Peter. But he was stopped by an article on his Facebook feed: NEW HERO IN TOWN: FRIEND OR FOE? And there was a candid shot of him in full costume. "Fuck." He clicked the link and scanned it; it was mostly that one night and a lot of online debate. People saw him as a menace, but more viewed him as a vigilante, only offing people who were bound to repeat their crimes.

Shaking his head, he clicked the call button and called Zuul over to meet Peter.


Once they'd disconnected, Jackson pocketed his phone and went to make dinner. He needed to figure out a casual outfit for the meetup. While making curry, he went into his room and laid out a pair of jeans and his favorite Captain America shield T-shirt. He loved the Avengers but sided more with Cap on the whole Sokovia Accords thing. Digging around, he found the letter Liz left him. He hadn't read it yet. He opened it and pulled out the paper. She'd divulged that, despite his coming to terms with being gay, she would always remember that awkward guy asking her out. The note ended with her new address and a statement that she hoped that he found someone who loves him just as much as he was able to give love.

Jackson wiped his eyes. He hated that he wasn't there for her when she needed it. They acted a lot more like a couple than best friends; everyone pointed it out. He returned the letter to the envelope and put it on his side table. Continuing his pursuit for clothes, he produced a blue long-sleeved shirt. He didn't need people asking questions. It had been a dark time in his life and he didn't want to talk about it.

He sat at the table, laptop open, as he ate. Ever since his moms passed, he'd had to fend for himself, especially since Joel wasn't around all that much, even before he went away to Kathmandu. School was fine and patrolling was whenever he could, so he decided to look for a part-time job, just so he could feed himself. But a high school senior could only get so far, and, despite deliberation, ultimately settled on applying at a Chipotle. He could make worser decisions.


Peter arrived about half an hour before the agreed upon meeting time, finding Jackson seemingly asleep under a tree. He shook his head with a smile and approached the elder, sitting beside him. "Jackson?"

"Who are you and what do you want? I don't have any money." He opened his eyes. "Oh, hey, Pete." He rubbed his eyes. "I don't sleep very good most days." He gave the younger boy a fond hair ruffle. "When's everyone else getting here?"

Peter glanced at a nearby clock. "Soon." He leaned on Jackson's shoulder. "Jackson?" He asked after a minute of silence.

"Hmm?"

"You wouldn't— possibly— It sounds crazy. Forget it."

Jackson side-glanced him. "What are you talking about? What's up?" He nudged Peter's side, making him squirm. "C'mon, dude, what is it? Can't leave me hanging like that."

"It's—" Peter moved to get away, trying to come up with a way it didn't sound like he was Spider-Man. "I didn't want to ask but..." He motioned to Jackson's sleeves. The boy's face fell. "I'm sorry!"

"No. It's fine." Jackson took a deep breath and pulled up his left sleeve. "It's, um, not that big a deal. They're from a really bad time. Few years ago. Can't really pay for consistent therapy and a lot was going on. I found it an escape from the thoughts." He cleared his throat. "But I'm good now. Truly." He pushed it back down. "I mean, I got you and Ned, and my brother's doing really well with his... training. I can't say I'm all there but it's sure as hell looking up."

People were communing at the sidewalk. Jackson and Peter looked at each other before making their way over. "What's going on?"

"Hostage situation at the post office," someone responded. Peter turned to Jackson, only to find him gone.