Chapter Thirty-Five:

Tony informed Tyron that it would take at least another few days, maybe a week, for all the aspects of the rally to be organized. Anyone who could come to New York would, but if not, they were going to hold their own rallies in their hometowns.

Tyron was surprised by the information Tony provided. Now that both Zion and Baron were currently in prison awaiting trials for both human trafficking and unlawful possession of illegal substances, i.e. crack, weed, and the like, he didn't have to worry about them.

Tony's platform was expansive and although he was doing the most for organizing it, Pepper, his girlfriend and head of Stark Industries, was running it.

Tyron liked Pepper, mainly for her analytical skills that was almost scary, and her kindness. He didn't usually see much of her ― she was always working ― but when he did, she liked to talk. They talked about a lot of things, Tyron really liked Tony's business and the thought of running one himself piqued his interests. Pepper liked that a lot, and encouraged him to come up with ideas, even suggesting that he should sell his art. Tyron wasn't quite sure yet, but he appreciated the advice.

He also didn't return back to school until Tuesday, and he was really nervous. He first stopped at Peter's house the night before, Steve took him, and picked up his school books. Ms. May let him in with a smile and as soon as Peter saw how bandaged up he was and practically threw a fit.

"What happened to you!?" He demanded, referring to his, still swollen, eye, and several cuts on his cheek and face. He had dragged him to his messy room and they were talking on his bed. "Where have you been? You missed out on a lot of work ― there's a project due in science next week and you haven't even started!"

Tyron simply smiled, he missed Peter and his endless worrying. "Don' sweat it," he assured the boy, and looked him up and down. He also noticed a few scratches on his face as well. He reached out to his chin, were a bandage was placed, but Peter caught his hand.

Tyron rose an eyebrow, his grip was tight ― really tight. "Have ya been workin' out?" He asked curiously, and Peter immediately went red, looking away.

"I. . . uh, it's just a cut, and it still hurts," Peter said quickly. Tyron sensed the lie quickly, but didn't say anything much about it. "If you need help with catching up, just call me, alright?"

Tyron smirked, he knew he didn't need to ― with everyone back at the tower, he had a valuable homework help force ― but he appreciated the gesture. "Course," He grinned. "Ya m'go-to guy, ya know?"

"You're teasing me," Peter frowned and Tyron scoffed.

"Wha'? Now tha' would jus' be rude!" Both of them started laughing loudly. Tyron smiled as he glanced at his backpack and clothes neatly piled near Peter's door.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Peter asked suddenly, and Tyron turned, raising an eyebrow. "Your. . . family problems? Do you wanna. . . ya know, talk?"

Tyron smiled bitterly, "Nah, I think m'good."

"Are you sure?" Tyron hesitated. Could he tell Peter that he was a mutant and he spent the past week getting two major drug lords ― one who had lived not two blocks from his home ― put into prison? Could he tell him that he used to be the playtoy of a monster, and he was currently mourning the deaths of two of good friends, one he had fallen in love with? Would Peter understand? Would anyone truly understand?

"My friend just died," Tyron said after a minute. "Laurence Dean."

"'Laurence Dean'?" Peter ruffled his eyebrows. "You mean the mutant kid that was died?"

"He was murdered," Tyron said, angry to even think about it. "By a group who are really Anti-Mutants. They're like the White Supremacists, but for mutants."

"You knew him?"

"We were friends," Tyron said. "We used to play ball near the area he was arrested. I saw him the day he got arrested, actually. You would've loved him."

Peter was quiet for a while, "I... Lied about how my parents died. They were killed and I was really angry for a long time," he finally said. Tyron looked at him, a bit surprised. "I was in school and some people came to class and pulled me out. They brought me to Aunt May's and Uncle Ben's house ― their old one. There were people guarding the door, and men in black suits walking around. I knew my parents were scientists, but. . . I didn't know they were apart of SHIELD."

Tyron was shocked, but he didn't want to say anything. He let Peter talk, he needed this just as much as Tyron did. "Nobody told me anything ― I was only in, like, eighth grade. So, I got a radio, messed with it, and found out the channel they were using. I heard the news for myself. That my parents were dead ― that HYDRA agents, or whatever had killed them, along with a few dozen other people."

"M'sorry," Tyron said softly, not knowing what else to tell him. He could see tears welling in Peter's eyes, but he shook his head and wiped his face.

"Aunt May and Uncle Ben let me take a few months off of school. Then, Uncle Ben was killed in a driveby." Tyron's eyes went large, and his hand moved to cover a gasp. "I stayed back for a year."

"M'so sorry," Tyron said sympathetically.

"It was a hard year," Peter said, "But. . . Aunt May and I, we got through it. We lost a lot that year. Since Uncle Ben was gone, we couldn't afford the house we were in, so we moved here. It was better, and more convenient to go to school. Aunt May works herself to death, and I want to get a part-time job to help her, but she won't let me. She wants me to go to college, no matter what, so I try my best."

"Ya a great kid, Peter," Tyron said, and Peter scoffed, looking away.

"I'm not a kid, I'm nearly as old as you are."

"Still," Tyron shrugged, and Peter smiled. "I've seen guys go through tha' kinda shit an' jus'. . . shut down. Ya jus' gonna keep pushin' through, an' I like tha'."

"You've been through a lot too," Peter reasoned, but Tyron shook his head.

"My parents were way different, trust me. M'mom, she was great, but. . . she saw her ideas in everyone. She didn't know how to. . . be accepting, I guess." Tyron shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"S'a long story," Tyron admitted. He didn't think he was quite ready to come out to Peter yet. He's been doing a lot of 'coming out' recently. He needed a break. "'Sides, m'ride is probably gettin' upset tha' m'takin' so goddamn long." Tyron chuckled and moved to stand. "Thanks, Peter, for sharin' tha' wit' me."

"Tyron," Peter said, and he stopped, looking at him. Peter looked a bit flustered and tongue twisted. "You. . . You talk about mutants and mutant rights a lot. Are. . . you a mutant?" Tyron froze, watching Peter for a moment. Peter simply stared at him, his green, innocent eyes seemed to pierce through his soul. His tainted soul.

Peter recognized his hesitation in seconds and immediately began to correct himself. "I-I. . . I'm sorry if that's a bad subject. It was insensitive, and, I―"

"Yeah," Tyron said, and Peter looked at him, shocked. Tyron supposed that if he wasn't going to come out to Peter, this would be the next best thing. "I am. I have been since I was thirteen."

"How did you know?" Tyron hesitated, twisting his fingers and looking down.

". . . Someone tried to, uh, stab me, an'. . . it didn't work." Peter's mouth fell open and Tyron looked away, embarrassed. "Why do ya ask? Is somethin' wrong?"

Now, it was Peter's turn to look uneasy. He shifted on the bed, and looked away, "Can I, uh, show you something?"

"Course," Tyron watched the boy as he moved to the door, making sure it was closed. Then, he turned to Tyron. He folded his fingers and suddenly white, sticky stuff flew from his wrist.

Tyron stared as it went a few feet before falling on the ground. ". . . Wow. . . wha' is tha'?"

"I think it's spider silk," Tyron gaped and Peter rushed to explain. "When we went to Oscorp Industries, I was a bit by a spider and got super sick. I don't know exactly how it works, but. . . now I can do that. And, the strength thing, that's pretty on and off. Also. . ." Peter glanced at the wall before jumping on it. Tyron inhaled, about to shout, but he just hung there. He looked back at Tyron, grinning. "I can hang on walls. Isn't that crazy!?"

"Yeah," Tyron said, shocked. "Ya said ya were bit by a spider?"

"Yeah," Peter jumped off the wall and looked back at Tyron. "I, uh, wanted to ask you, because. . . I thought you would know something about this. Does-Does that make me a mutant?"

"No," Tyron shook his head, "You're an Enhanced."

"A what?" Peter was stunned, and his eyebrow furrowed.

"An Enhanced! Like, Wanda, I―!"

"Who's Wanda?" Tyron ran his hands over his head and smiled at Peter.

"Wanda Maximoff? Have ya heard of her? She's an Enhanced too." A rare smile spread on Tyron's face. "This is great, oh m'god, Peter, this s'great!"

"Why? What does that mean?" Peter looked a little frightened, so Tyron forced himself to calm down.

"Mutants an' Enhanced are two different things. With the new Mutant Bill being passed, it makes Mutants easier to manage an'―"

"Am I going to go to jail!?" Peter exclaimed and Tyron stepped forward, placing a hand over his mouth to shush him.

"No, no no, jus'-jus' listen," He urged. "Mutants have the x-gene, have ya heard of tha'?" Peter nodded under his hand. "Enhanced don't. Ya can usually only catch 'em with physical deformitieses, but otherwise, they're practically undetectable."

"So," Peter mumbled under Tyron's hand. He moved it and took a step back. "I won't go to jail?"

"If ya stay low an' don't give 'em a reason to arrest ya, ya won't," Tyron smiled.

"What about you? Are you going to go to jail?" Peter asked and Tyron bristled.

"It'll be harder for them to catch me, but yeah," Tyron smiled. "I could."

"That's not fair!" Peter exclaimed, and Tyron shushed him again. Peter kept his voice down, but he began to speak quickly. "Why do you get treated badly when Mutants and Enhanced are the same thing!?"

"They are," Tyron agreed. "An' they aren't. Mutants get their powers genetically and it can't be controlled. But Enhanced, theirs are artificial, it can be controlled wha' ya git. For example, ya got tha' white shit and climbin' on walls right after ya got bit by a spider, right? So ya's is based on a spider. Mutants have more of a roulette an' 'they are harder to control. There's too many of us, ya can't stop us all."

"That's crazy," Peter shook his head. Tyron only shrugged.

"Tha's how th' world is," He said. "Sometimes, ya jus' gotta bend to the system."

"Not all the time!" Peter protested, "What about that mutant rally comin' up?"

Tyron smiled, "Tha's different. Tha's new. We. . . we've never done somethin' like this before. At least, wit' it bein' legal an' all." Tyron exhaled and stretched. "I really gotta head out. Steve is waitin' for m'an'―"

"Steve?" Peter asked and Tyron froze for a second. "Who's Steve?"

"Ah, uh," Tyron rubbed the back of his neck. "He's a friend."

"Is he. . . your boyfriend?" Peter said with a low voice and Tyron nearly choked, his eyes widening.

"Wha'!? No! He-He's like m'uncle! Oh, m'god!" Now, Peter went completely red for the misconception, and Tyron started to double over with laughter.

"I-I-I―!" He stammered, unable to get the words out. Tears filled Tyron's eyes as he laughed, and shook his head.

"Oh, god," He wheezed, his cheeks hurting from smiling so bad. "Tha's too funny!"

"I-I didn't know!" Peter finally choked out, but Tyron waved a hand, as if to say, don't worry about it.

"Tha's too funny!" Tyron wiped at his face, trying to stop his giggles. "Oh, man, m'gonna tell him ya said that."

"Oh, god, no," Peter begged and Tyron smiled, playfully hitting his arm.

"I should've taken a picture of ya face. Ya still look like a tomato," Peter looked away, trying to hide his enflamed cheeks, but it was no use.

Tyron grabbed his bag, still chuckling, and looked back at Peter, "'Ey," Peter looked up at him, obviously trying to rub the red away. "Remember wha' I said, a'right? Stay low. S'dangerous right now."

"Okay," Peter nodded seriously and Tyron smiled. He came over and held his hand out. Peter looked at it, confused.

"Geez, have ya never done a black man's handshake before?" He shook his head and took Peter's hand, showing him how to do it. Peter laughed as he hugged him and patted his back.

"Why is it called that?" He asked curiously.

Tyron shrugged, "Nobody knows." Then, he turned, "I'll see ya in class tomorrow."

"Yeah, good luck," Peter said and Tyron barked out a laugh, waving as he left his room.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Class the next day was slow. For the most part, his teachers were upset over his absence, but he managed to get a fake slip written up for it, via Tony in exchange for a week's worth of grounding with Steve. They accepted it and pushed all of a week's worth of schoolwork and projects in his face.

Tyron sighed as he sat through lunch in the library, planning on what to do first based on the extended due dates given to him by his teachers. He was so busy stressing and flipping through papers that he didn't even notice Michelle approaching him. That is, until she sat down in front of him.

Tyron nearly jumped, his hand absorbing his metal pen. "Shit!" He swore loudly, moving to scavenge through his bag for a new writing utensil. "Wha's up, Michelle?"

"You talk like we're friends," She frowned, watching as he pulled another pen out and began to write again.

"Well, after telling ya m'two deepest, darkest secrets, I'd assume tha' we were pretty close, yeah," Tyron shrugged and continued to write. "'Ey, do ya know when that English paper is due? The one on the literary analysis on To Kill A Mocking Bird?"

"It was due last friday for us," Michelle answered and Tyron nodded, writing again. "Aren't you going to ask me?"

"I don' have time to ask anyone anythin' right now, Michelle," Tyron told her, grabbing a history book and flipping through the pages.

"You don't want to know if I told anyone?" Michelle demanded, and finally, Tyron raised his eyes to look at her just for a minute before beginning to write again.

"If I cared wha' ya said 'bout m'ere, I would've dropped out," Tyron admitted. "An', besides, if ya did say somethin', why would ya come 'ere an' brag to m'bout it?" Michelle opened her mouth, but then frowned. He did have a point there.

"You're right," She admitted.

"I know."

"And, you're an ass."

"I know." Michelle scoffed, turning to glance at a pair of girl walking by, whispering to each other.

"How do you deal with that?" She asked softly. "With what you did?"

Tyron hesitated. He set his pen down and looked up at Michelle, "It depends on th' day," He admitted softly. "Some days, I don' an' m'jus' a mess. Other days. . . I remember 'em an' hope they're in a better place."

"Do you believe in God?"

Tyron shrugged. "I dunno. M'too young to make tha' decision for m'self."

Michell was silent for several seconds. "I heard what happened to Baron and Zion," She said. "It was on the news."

"Yeah," Tyron chuckled. "I honestly didn't expect to get Zion put in jail. But, I guess you knew about that, right? With the Avengers?"

"I was wondering about that," Michelle said, and leaned on her hands, suddenly looking like her usual, laid-back self again. "Do you like live with them, or is it like a club? How does that work?"

Tyron rose an eyebrow, "Wha' do ya mean 'how does tha' work'? Ya got m'drugged up. I told ya all 'bout it." Tyron remembered it all too well, and especially the shoe Tony threw at him when he admitted to taking drugs in the school bathroom.

Now, Michelle looked at him funny. "What are you talking about? You never told me about any of that. What do you mean someone drugged you?"

"When ya gave m'th' cookie!" Tyron said, annoyed. "I told ya my. . . livin' arrangements. Ya said tha' ya would tell Baron, remember?"

"Welll actually," Michelle rubbed the back of her neck. "That was all a bluff. Well, the threat about the school wasn't but everything else, I pretty much guessed." Tyron stared at her, dumbfounded. "I mean, I knew you had connections with Baron, but I didn't ― and I wasn't about to get involved in it. I assumed you must've known about Zion too, and he was closest to me, so things worked out better. Also, I guessed that you lived in Avengers' Tower. After I saw you on TV, I assumed you must've lived nearby or in it, or something, but I didn't know for sure, to be honest."

"So. . ." Tyron gulped, "Ya didn't drug me?"

"Why would I waste my weed on you?" Michelle scoffed and Tyron's eyes widened, his hand clenching his pen. This brought a dangerous question to the table. One that made Tyron's mouth run dry and his stomach twist.

If Michelle didn't drug him, then. . . who did? And, if they knew about the Avengers and Baron, they must've known about his mutation too. With the bill just being passed. . . whoever drugged him could get him potentially sent to prison, or worse. With his record, if this person had evidence ― which was highly unlikely ― they could have Tyron killed.

"What's up with you?" Michelle asked, confused. "You looked like you've seen the dead."

Tyron let out a dry chuckle. "S'worse than tha'." He said, his hand shaking and he tried to hide it in his lap. "If this person knows all about me, then I am dead."