Author's Note: Hello. If you've made it this far, thank you! I really appreciate you giving this story a chance, as writing fanfiction is something I've always wanted to try. It has been on my bucket list ever since I was young, but I haven't had the guts to sit down, write, and post until now.

This story is pre-Spiderman PS4 Game events, but leads up to the game's events. Because it does feature an Original Character, I want to take time to develop her personality and their friendship properly. I promise I won't leave Peter Parker out of the fun as depending on the focus of the story arc, I will alternate the perspectives of the characters every chapter, more or less.

I do have ideas featuring both classic Spider-Man Rogue Gallery and some original villains of my own for this story, so you can look forward to that.

So, without further ado, enjoy a Peter Parker-centric chapter.

When Heroes Team Up

Peter was afraid he had messed up big time.

He had no idea who this girl was, but she was good. After their last encounter just over a week ago, he hasn't seen any sign of her. At best, the only sighting of her had been when she dropped off a flash drive containing the seller and buyer information into Captain Yuriko Watanbe's office. And by her office, he meant she literally walked up to the Captain as she was on the roof smoking and gave her the flash drive. Yuri made a pretty big deal of the incident over the phone, wanting any and all information he had about her sooner rather than later.

As much as he wanted to help Yuri out, Peter found the whole endeavor easier said than done.

She had said her name was Seamstress, but any search he underwent regarding her was sparse and difficult to understand. She seemed to come from a small town in Oregon, isolated by an evergreen forest. The few pictures of her were blurry and small town articles praising her for her work around the town. Burning buildings, robberies, the works. The one picture he did find that was clearly her was so different. She had pigtails, her dress was more like a doll's dress and a little rabbit creature was by her side.

What really made the picture interesting was the creature they were facing, a horrible amalgamation of different animal parts, rotting flesh, and seemingly soulless eyes. The creature gave him chills and seeing how young she was (she couldn't have been more than 16) worried him. What kind of horrible creatures did she face usually? Granted, it looks like she has acted as the town's hero for years, much like him with New York City, but Peter didn't know what to make of it all. He was used to stopping super powered villains, crime lords, gangs, and the occasional mugger.

But magic? Monsters that belonged to myths, legends, and fairytales?

Not for the first time in his life, the thought dawned on Peter that he was probably out of his league.

He wasn't even sure what she wanted from these poachers or why she was actively stopping crimes in New York City to begin with. If her intentions and offer to help are genuine, Peter wasn't sure how to proceed with that either. He'd been a hero long enough that he didn't need help, or want it for that matter. If she was experienced like he found, she certainly didn't need him either. He worried about a lot of things already: rent, Aunt May, his recent break-up, Wilson Fisk. He really didn't want to add some sewing-themed hero to the list.

But ultimately, he knew he screwed up. That first meeting should've gone better, but his attempt at trying to warn her of New York's nightlife backfired in a way he wasn't expecting. Peter was so caught up in his own assumptions about her that when she offered them a chance to be amicable with one another, he ignored it entirely. Not to mention this item she was looking for sounded extremely dangerous but he chose to focus on her.

No wonder she was pissed. He would've been too.

Peter groaned. How was he supposed to fix this if he couldn't even find her? He looked over the list Seamstress gave to Yuri, but any warehouse or suspicious individual that hadn't already been searched and arrested by the police were being protected by rich benefactors. The few he could look into were too spread out for him to navigate and stakeout efficiently. He was at risk of missing her entirely and she certainly did not want to be found.

But Peter Parker did not graduate with a Bachelor of Sciences for nothing.

He created a minor algorithm that, when applied to Twitter, Daily Bugle, or any other media sharing platform, searched for a series of keywords he created that described Seamstress. The colors of her dress, words associated with sewing, new hero in NYC, etc. He had to test it out a couple of times to figure out the right amount of keywords, but it finally worked. He got pictures, posts, and sightings of her not just stopping muggings and helping civilians, but near warehouses. Specifically, warehouses on the list. By cross-referencing those locations with the locations on the list Seamstress found, he was able to narrow down and isolate some warehouses she hadn't hit yet.

Which is what led him here.

The warehouse was definitely newer as it had a better structure compared to the ones made during the industrial boom of World War 2. Peter found traversing these types of warehouses more difficult as the security was also better. There was no sign of her outside of the warehouse but he knew she had to be here. The post on Twitter catching a picture of her proved it. He spotted the shiny "Stor-it" logo sitting along the wall, a few armed men patrolling outside the building, and a couple of trucks with shipment cargo sitting in the open containers.

But what really caught his eye was the open skylight and a large needle lodged in its ridge.

Peter shot a web and swung onto the roof of the warehouse, quickly making his way to the skylight to examine the needle. The size of one of his fingers, it looked brand new and was stuck in the skylight frame. He wasn't sure why Seamstress left it like this, but Peter figured he'll get his answers soon enough.

When he entered the skylight, he could see the boxes of art and stolen goods on the second floor, wooden pallets strewn around the feet of a few unconscious gunmen. On the bottom floor, various thugs were running around chaotically with a couple of them trying to shout orders out. As he made his way in, crawling down the side of a support column, Seamstress made herself known by swinging out from behind a pillar in front of one unfortunate individual. She swung her fist into his face with a cry and the thug fell back. As gunfire sounded off nearby, Seamstress backflipped out of the spray of bullets, only to throw herself back into the fray and after the gunman.

It looked like it was his turn to join in the fun.

He shot a web to the warehouse ceiling, swinging down to kick a thug across the room. The other men hadn't noticed him yet, so he took advantage of their inattention by launching his fist into one before webbing another to the wall. That grabbed the attention of the men nearby, their shouts and warnings spreading throughout the warehouse.

"Oh shit- Spider-Man's here!"

"What the hell is he doing here!?"

"I'm going to kick your ass Spider-freak!"

"What the- What are you doing here?" Seamstress's voice rang out, followed by the sound of her smacking her fist into an unlucky thug's face. "I don't need your help Spider-Man! I can handle this!"

"I never said you needed it," he flipped a guy over his shoulder, only stopping to shrug for a moment when he caught her eye. "I just happened to be in the neighborhood."

He jumped and kicked one thug who was rushing him away before flipping towards another thug. He effectively knocked him out before webbing a shelving unit, pulling it down to fall on top of a small group. Her masked eyes met his for a moment, a questioning look gracing her features. He simply shrugged, leaving explanations for after the fight.

The fight wasn't too bad, all things considered. Seamstress had already taken out a good number of them before he showed up, and these guys weren't trained like Fisk's men. Not like Fisk's men were all that great either. Seamstress made a show of stretching, avoiding eye contact with him as she surveyed the area.

"It's Seamstress, right? I've been meaning to talk to you-"

Peter started to approach her before she pointedly turned away from him and walked up the stairs leading to the second floor.

Okay, so she was still mad from before. Understandable.

After a moment, he followed her by shooting a web and landing on the railing. Seamstress was already opening boxes and looking through their contents. Her back was to him and he took the time to properly observe her again.

Her light purple dress reached to the top of her knees and the sleeves extended down to just above her elbows. Patches of pale blue fabric were stitched into the skirt part of her dress and he remembers an open, split part in the front of the skirt from the waist revealing white fabric. Her belt and tights were the same pale blue color, while her short gloves and ankle-high boots were white. The stitched-up bag hanging off of her belt was actually made up of light purple, pale blue, and white patches. The top part of her mousy brown hair was pulled into a bun, with the rest of it reaching her shoulders.

"Where is it… Where… What box- what box would they put it in? It has to be here- it has to be somewhere in here…" He could hear her muttering to herself.

Peter figured it was time to speak up.

"So… Whatcha ya doing in New York?" What a great conversation starter Peter. Next, you'll ask her what the weather's like or how's the family or -

Seamstress sighed and turned around with a sardonic look on her face. Or as much of a sardonic look you can give someone when you wear a stitched up lilac mask that covers half of your face. Leaning back against the crate, she crossed her arms and spoke up. "Alright, you can cut it out with the fake friend act you've got going on. It's not convincing at all, especially when you keep staring at me. Which you should stop by the way. It's creeping me out..."

"Who says it's an act? Why can't I actually be friendly?" He got off the railing and shot her a smile, hoping it would convey well from underneath the mask.

Her cocked head and raised eyebrow underneath the mask told him she didn't buy it. Peter sighed, remembering how badly their first encounter went. Of course she wasn't going to immediately trust him.

"Look, I am trying to be friendly - I promise. I know our last interaction was… problematic to say the least. I assumed that you were an inexperienced teenager and I was trying to protect you by dissuading you from continuing. I've done some research and I realize now that you are older than I originally thought with a good amount of experience under your belt."

He paused briefly to catch her reaction. She wasn't outright hostile anymore so he took that as a good sign.

"We got off on the wrong foot and I know that it was my fault. But I'm trying to remedy that now... I'm just not sure how." His hand rubbed the back of his neck, his nerves finally getting the better of him. He had always known that people like him, those who choose to help others, existed and he'd always thought that when he finally got to meet them, it would be on good terms.

Figures his good old-fashioned Parker luck would say otherwise.

She stared at him for a bit, making him a bit worried. Finally, she sighed, stood up, and walked towards him, extending her hand out when she reached him.

"For starters, you can shake my hand this time instead of being an ass and try to lecture me about how I can do my job."

"Alright, fair enough," he conceded as he took her hand. He was surprised to see how much smaller it was than his. She just seemed to be smaller in general, but he knew the wiser choice would be not to comment on it.

"Secondly, I apologize too. I was in the wrong for instantly jumping on the defensive when you assumed I was… younger than I really am. Ironically, I count on it when I'm fighting criminals, so I shouldn't have expected you to be different. That was… hypocritical of me. Thank you for the apology, I appreciate it." They dropped their hands and she looked up at him, apprehension still present.

"Look. Technically, what I do and what I'm looking for is supposed to be secret. But, my friend Riona and I have accepted that it wasn't going to stay secret for long anyway. When you consider modern technology, social media, and the fact that this is New York City, we can't avoid it."

He didn't quite understand where she was going with this, but Peter figured there was a point.

"I wasn't kidding when I said I deal with problems of the magical kind. I know it's not something you deal with regularly," she paused and Peter realized she was waiting for him to react. At his nod, she continued. "But regardless, whether or not you believe magic is real or not, the item I'm looking for is pretty dangerous. And I'm not sure if I want you in this case, even if you want to help."

"I meant it when I said I want to help. If this thing is as dangerous as you say it is and it's in my city, I can't just let it go. I can't risk people getting hurt when I could've done something to avoid it."

Seamstress reluctantly nodded before continuing. "What I've been looking for is called The Amulet of Ultima Vota, a magical item that can seemingly grant any wish its wearer desires. Money, political power, loved ones coming back from the dead, you name it."

Okay, this was starting to sound a little crazy. Peter wasn't expecting this and the phrase "loved ones coming back from the dead" made him shiver. Of course it was something he's thought about. Who wouldn't? Especially when it affected so much of his life. Seamstress didn't seem to notice his thoughts.

"But it never truly grants the wish. It ALWAYS twists it so the wish ends up consuming them. They drown in the money they wished for as there is too much to handle. The political power they gain has the people they controlled eventually revolt and kill them. The loved ones… are never the people they remember and drive the wishers to unending grief."

That cold feeling he got earlier came back, her somber tone driving away any suspicions he originally had about the validity of her explanation. If this thing truly does exist…what would happen if the wrong person got a hold of it? Even if it was someone who might deserve the consequence of the wish, how would it affect bystanders?

"Usually, I don't deal with items of this severity. I typically fight monsters or sorcerers who want to take over the world," she let out a laugh that felt more like a huff. "I know it's awful that this is how you've been introduced to my side of things like this, but it's why I'm taking this job so seriously. Plenty of people have died already from this thing, and it doesn't need to take any more lives."

Peter couldn't agree more.

"Seriously, how can I help?" he offered. New Yorkers were his people and he'd be damned if he didn't do something.

She seemed shocked, the eyes on her mask widening before a reluctant look settled on her face. He could see the indecision play out on her face and he was glad he had a full face mask. He's never had a great poker face, so the mask helped hide his fear when he faced particularly difficult enemies. Maybe that's why she was experiencing indecision. Peter sympathized with Seamstress, but he was still going to insist. Maybe he could say something to reassure her?

A sigh. "Alright. At the very least, you can help me look for the amulet. Just DON'T touch it. No matter how much it offers to help you."

Again, super creepy and probably out of his league.

"I've searched through their records and it should be here, but I'm starting to think either something was recorded properly or someone decided they weren't getting enough of the cut." He could tell by her tone that she was frustrated.

"Just lead the way," he gestured towards the crates and let her take the lead. She seemed happy to do so.

"Damn it. It isn't here," Seamstress growled. It had been a good 10 minutes of searching through every crate and while they found some interesting stuff, the amulet she was looking for was nowhere to be found. Peter won't deny that his first thoughts were that she was lying. A wish-granting amulet as a cover story for something else she was after, she wasn't really a hero, etc. He's had enough experiences with people like that: from Mysterio to Norman Osborne to even Felicia… But he could hear the frustration in her voice and Peter knew what it was like to be accused of bad intent even when you've done nothing wrong. And he's already made a mistake with Seamstress once before…

She threw the crate lid she was holding across the floor to the pile of lids they created. She sighed, before turning to him.

"Look, I know this looks bad, but I promise it was supposed to be here. I would… I have to take another look at the information. Maybe I missed something or someone…" she trailed off in thought.

"I don't doubt you thought it was supposed to be here," he started. "But maybe it wouldn't hurt for me to get a look at that data as well. Two heads are better than one, after all."

"...Alright. Here. I have copies on my computer so you can take the original flash drive." She reached into the stitched-up bag on her belt and pulled out a small, inexpensive flash drive. She handed it to him and Peter gladly took it, looking forward to the chance to finally get a look.

"When do you want to meet up again?"

She started, seemingly unprepared for the question.

"You actually want to meet up again? I figured you… wouldn't want to get involved any further."

"Well, I know you said this was your case, and that is still true, but if this thing is as dangerous as you've mentioned, I think we'll both need to look out for the other."

Not bad Peter. Not bad. You might actually be cut out for superhero style teamwork after all.

At his words, the nervous and hesitant Seamstress he'd been talking to was gone, replaced by a more confident masked heroine. From what Peter could tell, Seamstress already seemed aware that she wasn't going to be instantly believed or even be respected as a hero in New York City, but it looks like his words helped get the confidence she'd shown from their last meeting back. While he wasn't sure he understood 100% of what was going on, he knew that it was better to let the experts lead the way.

"Alright! Let's meet up at…"