Nerves frazzled, Captain George Stacy lingered in his office, pacing the floor, printing and stapling papers, putting off the inevitable. He couldn't send his daughter off to heaven knows where alone, but at the same time, she was old enough to be on her own. She knew self-defense and had the reflexes of a snake. She was with her classmates. She had her friends. And he knew her friends. She'd... she'd be fine. He didn't want to be over-protective, and he knew she could look after herself.
But nevertheless.
To know he'd be trapped in a meeting room, instead of spending the last few moments he would with her for the next week or so just as she was boarding a plane bugged him to no end. He couldn't go with her, and he couldn't even bring her to the airport.
His watch on his wrist beeped.
Slamming the stapler on the table, he cursed under his breath. Rushing out the room, he switched off all the lights. It was 11 am. There was a team briefing on the second floor.
Reaching the end of the stairs, he rested against the doorframe, peeking into the room through the small glass window.
The room was already filled with both plain-clothed, and uniformed officers. His eyes glazed the perimeter of the room as he scanned the faces present. Most, he was already familiar with, but with the severity and the largely aware public on this case, a few had been drafted in from the Office of Enforcement Operations... and a few from the Computer Crime and Intellectual Property Section at his request. The room was a simple beige, and the floor was carpeted. Overall, it was a small, but an empty room with no windows or curtains, yet a large whiteboard smack up against the wall.
He took in a breath and pushed the door open.
The air-conditioner steadily whirred gently overhead as the chatter in the room died down.
Stacy had been appointed the lead investigator over what they were calling the Menken case simply because it ran off the tongue well (even though it involved more people than one- they really ought to just call it the Goblin Incident), and it was one that the media had a hawk's eye on...he couldn't afford to go anywhere or take a break.
"Good morning, everyone." The Captain forced himself to lift his head to address the team before him. He crossed his arms almost instinctively. "Sorry for spoiling your weekend, I know these days are important, and you've probably had plans." He felt so tempted to look at the floor.
Some of the cops present sighed audibly and shifted their footing. Many of them, like him, wouldn't have to drop everything- especially on a Sunday- just to add another workday to their schedule. Things like grocery runs, dates, their own children's events. He wasn't the only one in the boat. He couldn't tell if it was a comfort or if it made him feel worse.
He unfolded his arms to pick up a marker pen and turn to the board behind him.
"I hope you've all managed to fill yourselves in on the details. I need not tell you that this... case, needs to be handled quickly. We don't know what Menken can do, or how he'll do it- where. We've been promised resources to make things happen. Mayor Water is especially keen on seeing this case come to a close." He capped the marker and gestured to the two patrol officers on his right out of habit. He specifically requested the two on this case. They were always first at the scene and quick to act and balanced each other out. "Carter. Dewolf."
Stanley Carter clicked his pen after jotting something down in the incident logbook, flipping it shut and passing it to the woman on his right. He smirked as Jean Dewolf lifted her posture in her chair and took the book, flipping it open.
"The suspect has been identified as Donald Menken. He's disappeared from his home, as well as places he used to frequent. This either reinforces he was guilty to some degree, or that he had put two and two together and fled. Last seen at his apartment, between the hours of 9 pm and 11 pm. The room was found with traces of knockout gas and was found in disarray. It is believed, from neighbor's accounts, that he was new and just moving in." She stated, as a matter of factly.
"The forensic investigation is still going on as they are still filing requests to see Oscorp's information on their undeniable, past experimentations knockout gas. We have yet to gain access to any, however. As far as we can tell, no valuables were brought in, or out of the house, although there are numerous signs of... forced entry." Stan continued, holding up the CCTV photos of the scene, specifically- one capturing a helicopter piloted by Harry Osborn flying straight into the glass panels of the apartment.
Definitely a forced entry.
"Overall, we should be tracing the people involved- Donald Menken, Harry Osborn, the 'Chameleon', anyone closely involved with Norman Osborn, like co-workers, and... Spider-man." He finished with a click of his tongue.
There was a pause.
"... Should we even be calling him that?" Dewolf added hesitantly. "I can't say it excuses him for his... behavior, but he could just be a kid. From what's we've seen, he's usually spotted during or right after rush hours, during after-school hours, late at night, or early in the morning. His growth, speech patterns, general maturity... "
Stan seemed to think for a moment, before shrugging. "...Whatever he may be, we can't deny he's good. He's growing up." He smirked. "I always thought he went too easy on criminals. Especially guys like you know who, and now that-"
"I think we might be trailing off the point, don't you two?" Captain Stacy cut in, tapping the marker in his hand against the whiteboard. His voice was low and warning, but he was never one to stay that way for long. He squinted, but his eyes relaxed and his eyebrows unknit. His voice took on a more playful tone, and a small smile was played at the side of his lips. "If you two can keep the 'bickering like a married couple' out of the meeting room..."
They both looked taken aback. They didn't seem... upset... that was before a few soft chuckles filled the room from the other officers.
A brief flash of anger passed through Stan Carter's eyes, and he looked like he was about to get up until his partner placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. Two settled back in their seats- Jean more sheepishly, and Stan, a little more awkwardly.
Awkward silence permeated the room.
...
Until it was broken by the loud sound of what sounded of a jackhammer from the street below, causing those present to jolt back into focus.
"We'll turn back to the matter at hand." Officer Dewolf mumbled, turned back to the logbook, turning a page. "Menken was suspected to have been spotted at JFK airport. We have a detailed account of what is supposedly him taking a plane that was headed to Florida."
Stacy's hand stopped mid-sentence. The marker stopped on the whiteboard, his arm stiffened.
"Hmm. That's not cemented, but still a lead. I won't send everyone out of state." He turned around slowly, eyes set on Dewolf and Carter. "But I'm going to need some plain-clothed officers to trail it."
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open. "And I do believe, I have just the perfect guise."
He had an idea floating in his mind, and for the first time in a long while, a small smile played at the sides of his lips.
The artificial light burned his eyes as the automatic doors opened, and Peter made his way into the airport. The sky was dark and he didn't even realize that it wasn't 6 am any longer when MJ passed by to check if he was coming. He'd spent as much time as he could convincing Aunt May not to touch anything or move anything while he was away, and had wasted all the time he had left shoving random items into his bag.
He really should've just dropped everything and gone with MJ.
Peter groaned and squinted at the small envelope he had held up, turning it here and there... desperately trying to make some sense of it. He was already 15 minutes later than the listed time: 11:30.
His duffel bag was slung around his shoulders, and his regular leather sling, around his shoulders on the other side. Both of them dangled idly around his knees as he rushed to what was listed as 'Gate 5'... probably. There were so many 'Gate 5's. The teenager rubbed his forehead. He wasn't too sure if he was heading in the right direction, and his sense of direction regarding airports wasn't his strong suit. At least, not when there were no specific directions pointing specifically anywhere. Navigating this place was worse than the Vault.
Until he caught a familiar sight at the corner of his eye.
Blonde hair. Blue uniform. With small metal tokens that glinted in the light.
Peter veered around to catch sight of Captain Stacy, with two others.
"I fail to see the point in this shirt Jean," The taller of the two with the Captain growled as he tugged at the long sleeves of a 'Salt-life' shirt.
"Don't worry about it, Stan, I picked it out carefully." The woman with him replied, patting his shoulder, "It's just to blend in, it's part of the job."
"Officer Dewolf is right. Try to get into it..." Captain Stacy winked. "At least appear, or try to have fun."
"Alright, then I fail to see the fun in it," He hissed, coming decidedly to a stop.
They had reached a row of chairs, all filled with familiar faces- at least, to Peter. The rows were situated right next to the curve of the wall, where the beams supported so many windows. Windows that ought to have let in as much light as possible, if the sky weren't so grey.
Stan dropped the bags around his arms aggressively, letting them fall to the ground with a thud, earning him the dark or bewildered looks of several teenagers present. And a puzzled one from Emily Osborn, who was standing next to another familiar, albeit, not from school- figure. Dark, messily cut blonde hair. Ocean blue eyes. A squarish build. Wasn't that... the demolition guy? Peter squinted.
Watching Stan Carter's eyes flicker darkly around the room, Stacy chuckled, and both he and Jean shook their heads.
"Dad!" Catching sight of her father, Gwen, who had been sitting next to a talkative Harry Osborn with his arm around her shoulder nearly leaped out of her seat. The teenager rushed towards him. Jumping up, she threw a big hug around the older Stacy and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
"Woah there Dynamite!" the older Stacy barely caught her just in time, spinning her around and setting her back on the ground before returning the hug. "Ack-You're getting too big for this. One of these days you're gonna take me down."
Gwen laughed, waving it off. "As if anyone could push you over." She must've seen or thought of something, Peter couldn't tell which, but he knew that look in her eyes. She pulled away from the hug to cross her arms. "I-Hang on." Her eyes narrowed. "I thought you couldn't make it. "
"I can now." Her father replied slyly, shooting her a wink.
She rolled her eyes and let her arms fall to her sides. The girl clearly still had her misgivings but was willing to let it slide... For now.
"...That's good enough for me then." She whispered fondly.
"Captain Stacy!" Harry's voice called out, and he stood up straight as an arrow. "I- I'm glad you could make it sir. The plane should get here in just 10 minutes, you're just in time!"
The man nodded, walking forward to shake the boy's hand. "Harry Osborn." He glanced back at the two officers with him. "I hope you don't mind two more people joining on the trip. I couldn't join in myself, I'm afraid I've had too much work on my back. What with... The climate today." He feigned a cough. "But I was hoping my... Colleagues could join in and keep an eye on Gwen that I can't, "
"DAD!"
"Kidding, I'm kidding!" The officer laughed, grabbing at his daughter's hands, which were now tugging at his arm aggressively. "I know you can look after yourself, Gwendolyne Stacy. It's mostly to make sure these two powerhouses get a break they deserve. Carter and Dewolf wouldn't take a break even if someone held them at gunpoint."
The two cops awkwardly exchanged glances. They didn't dare to disagree.
"Of course! I'm sure we can make space for them," Harry ran a hand through his hair, eyeballing the group that had gathered. He smiled ever so slightly, his lip curling up. "Especially since it looks like Flash and a few others decided not to join us today."
Having observed enough, Peter sighed loudly and stuck his arms out, rushing forward towards them.
"Gwen! Harry! Sorry for keeping you waiting!" He exclaimed, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck.
"Morning Peter." George Stacy turned his attention to Peter and patted him on the back, "So... You decided to come after all. How's your Aunt?"
Seeing him, Gwen smiled and gave him a small wave, relinquishing her death grip on her father's arm.
Eyes flitting back and forth, Peter Parker smiled a little wider, deciding to reply to the older first. "She's doing okay, Aunt May's, yeah." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "She's doing good."
"Then my work here is done. Have a good break you all.." The Captain nodded, retreating a few steps. "I have some things back at the office to do, and it's eating into his schedule just being here." Kissing his daughter on the cheek, he soon disappeared, leaving his two officers sticking out like a sore thumb in the brows of teenagers.
As soon as he vanished around the corner, there was a change in tone and demeanor from the redheaded boy.
"You're late." Harry raised an eyebrow.
Finally, Peter turned back to Harry. Yet before he could open his mouth someone else spoke up.
"What do you mean, late?" It was a shrill feminine voice. One Peter knew all too well, that belonged to a girl he had been fawning over (and regretted) during his second year of high school. "Now hold on a second right there..." She held up her envelope in the air, facing outwards so everyone could see the text. "It says 12:00 pm. To meet at Gate 5 between 11:30 to 11:50."
Peter pulled out the green card from his pocket, narrowing his eyes. "That's... Not right." His eyes widened. "Mine just says to hereby 11:30 am."
There was a build-up of whispers through the group.
Sliding in smoothly, almost as if he predicted, of expected it, Harry spoke up. "Ugh, duh?" He swung his arm to pat Peter on the back just a little too hard. "Do I even need to explain myself?"
The Osborn scoffed. "This guy's almost always never on time." A smug smirk spread across his face. His eyes lidded as he continued speaking confidently. "I gave him a special timing, why else would he get his own special invitation? We'd never leave on time otherwise."
The students present began to nod, and ever so subtly... Laugh.
Was this playful, friendly banter...?
Peter ran his tongue over his teeth.
"He has a problem with keeping with times and promises... And you'll never know whether he'll end up not coming at all." Harry mumbled, much softer to himself. Despite this, Peter would hear it clear as day. The Osborn pushed his hands in his pockets and headed back to his seat, avoiding looking at Peter.
The brown haired boy dropped his eyes to the ground. staring at the tips of his shoes.
Peter could see MJ and Gwen frowning ever so slightly. And looking around a bit more keenly, Rand Robertson and Glory Grant.
But just at the corner of his eye... He felt his hands begin to form fists. He couldn't see her eyes since she was looking at the ground but...
Liz was nodding.
He could feel his head begin to fog.
"... Peter." Gwen took a step towards him. "He's just joking. He meant it as some buffer time, you know that right?"
He reflexively took a step back. The thing she didn't get was that, in a strange way, Harry was right.
Emily Osborn cut through the air with a cough and soon after as if on cue, there was a call from the overhead speakers.
"Gate 5. Boarding now."
"The name's Morrie, and I'm going to need everyone to line up in two straight lines." The man standing next to her swooped into action. he clapped his hands in the air twice, "I'll explain everything and the arrangements I'm the plane. All you kids gotta do is relax."
Heads dipped up and down like flamingos in a lake, and Harry appeared next to Gwen faster than light entering a room when the windows opened.
Soon, everyone else had lined up with whoever was sitting next to them, which they had planned naturally of their own initiative (who wouldn't want to sit with their friends?) leaving Peter standing alone.
"Look, we need to talk..." His head perked up, recognizing the feminine voice.
She walked closer and closer, his spirits rose.
Peter watched Gwen make a beeline straight for Harry- and his spirits fell.
Emily Osborn led the group silently, walking towards a doorway that led to a steely tunnel. Perhaps out of pity, Morrie strode over to tower above the teen, joining him at the back of the precession. Peter could feel his eyes boring into the side of his head.
"Hey, kid. You're... Pete Parker, if I'm not wrong?"
Peter winced and looked up. "It's Peter. Peter Parker."
"A-ah! Alright, my bad." The older of the two feigned a cough. "I- uh, It's good to see you're still alive. I mean, not that I wouldn't think you'd be. It's just, I- but you never really know what could happen these days, yeah?"
He sighed loudly. "Norman Osborn... really?" He shook his head slowly, before throwing it back to laugh in disbelief. "I still can't believe it. About him, or Spiderman. I suppose you and I are the only ones here, besides the Osborns themselves who know what he's really like huh?"
Peter cringed internally. You're the only one.
"...Yeah, you're not the only one." Peter's eyes darted back and forth. Gosh, he hated lying. He rushed for a change in subject. "So um, what are you going here?"
"Demolitions. As usual." His eyes twinkled, much like how Aunt May's would whenever she talked about her recipes. Peter recognized it at once. Morrie lifted the bright blue toolbox he had in his hand to eye height. He puffed his chest out. "It's a miracle I wasn't already fired since that last blunder by Mr. Osborn. He had plans he needed me for and gave me a second chance. For that I'm grateful."
They walked into the dimly lit plane, and the engines below whirred gently. The sounds of the kids mumbling and chatting excitedly were magnified in the enclosed space.
"It's another R&D thing, I'm sure. Probably be used for a lab of some sort, OScorp stuff."
A lab. The boy peered up at him curiously, "You mean you don't know?"
"Whatever the Missus says goes." He shrugged. "Never ask too much into these things. Job's just to break the grounds and clear the way. Whatever they do with it it's their business."
Suddenly, Morris stopped in his tracks. He bent down slightly, lowering his voice to just a whisper. "Uhm, kid?"
He strained a smile.
"You don't tell her about the uh, accident right? I did kinda put the Mr, and you in danger, b-but I swear I didn't mean it." Morris rubbed his hands together in a pleading manner. "I'm usually not that careless, a-and I don't know how she'd react. It could cost me my job..."
Peter couldn't help the laugh that escaped him.
"Yeah sure man, I got your back."
He turned his eyes to the front of the procession again, to two of the only friends his age he seemed to have left. His shoulders stiffened as he watched the girl of his dreams take the boy by the arm, walking side by side. Whatever they were talking about, he felt like it was him. Everything felt like everyone was talking about him.
He glanced at Morris Bench and sighed.
Even if they didn't know it was him.