Training wheels:

New York, Hell's Kitchen, June 19th, 2015:

Peter stood on the edge of the building, trying his best not to look down at the toy sized cars moving along the busy streets of New York. He held the tiny strand of silk with all of his strength and every hair on his neck and arms was standing straight like a startled cat.

'I can do this,' he said, trying to hype himself up. 'I can do this. No problem.'

'You've been saying that for the last ten minutes,' Daredevil said in a frustrated tone.

Peter turned to his mentor and said, 'I don't think this is a good idea.'

'You're the one who said that you can swing on those things,' Daredevil said, pointing to the web that Peter had shot out. 'So let's test them out.'

Daredevil could tell by the sound of the web vibrating in the air and the elastic tension it was undergoing when Peter gripped it that it was more than strong enough to carry his weight. From his brief observations it seemed to have even greater tensile strength than Batman's grappling hook lines.

How the hell did he make that? Daredevil thought, hiding how impressed he was with Peter's enginuity.

What further impressed him were the wrist worn devices that Peter used as a way to shoot out his webs. He pressed a button in his palm with his middle and ring fingers that allowed the web cartridge to release the fluid through a narrow nozzle that made it solidify into a string-like structure when it made contact with the air.

Granted the materials he used were cheap and sounded like they would break in half if someone so much as touched them but he knew a few people who could help upgrade Peter's tech. Once he manned up and swung off the building that is.

Peter's heart rate elevated when he took one step off the edge and he let out a small yelp and hopped back onto the roof.

'Nope. I can't do this. It's way too high.'

Daredevil placed a hand on Peter's shoulder. 'I get it,' he said. 'I was terrified when I tried to do this the first time. But my mentor made sure I only did it when I was ready. A courtesy I'm giving you as well.'

Surprised by Daredevil's unusually kind tone, Peter loosened up.

'Really? Wow thanks, I always knew you had a soft spot for … '

Peter's sentence was replaced by a glass shattering yell as Daredevil pushed him off of the roof with all of his strength. The people on the streets below looked up as they saw a hooded boy swing across the rooftops of Hell's Kitchen.

Air was assaulting Peter's eyes through his goggles and he felt his head tingle again. Before Peter could even register what was happening his body slammed into a wall like a fly that was swatted against a window.

Daredevil put a finger on his ear to activate his communicator. 'Claire. Yeah the kid's met with a little accident.'

'What the hell's wrong with you?' Peter shouted out with a nasally voice as Claire dressed the splint on his nose. 'You pushed me off a building.'

Daredevil shrugged. 'You were taking too long.'

'What happened to "taking my time and doing it when I was ready"?'

'I had the same conversation with my mentor too. Except I actually managed to swing across the building when he pushed me.'

Peter, stunned with what he was hearing said, 'And you thought "Well that's a great way to teach the new guy?". Dude, I'm only 15 and I just got these powers a few weeks ago.'

'I was 12 and had a broken arm. I still did it.'

Peter crossed his arms and looked away. Claire pulled Daredevil away and handed Peter a pill.

'It's a pain killer. Not sure how long it'll last with your metabolism but it should be long enough till your nose heals,' she said.

'How long will that take?' Peter asked, swallowing the pill with a cup of water Claire placed down on the dressing table next to the bed he was on.

'Couple of hours I guess. Just don't touch the plaster. It's hard enough to set your bones properly when they heal so fast,' she said with a smile. 'A word,' she said sternly to Daredevil who was scratching his chin, trying to act aloof.

The two of them leave the room where Peter was in and Matt takes off his helmet. He washed his face near the sink while Claire stared daggers at him. Matt heard the muscles in her face knit into a frown and he turned around.

'What?'

'You know what. You're putting that kid through a meat grinder.'

Matt scoffed. 'Hardly. Do you have any idea what I went through as a kid?' he asked. 'Peter's training is a cakewalk compared to the abuse I experienced.'

'That doesn't make it ok to throw him off a building.'

'Technically I pushed him and his webbing was more than strong enough to keep him safe.'

'That's not the point.'

'Then what're you trying to say?' Matt asked, slamming his fist on Claire's dinner table. 'I've been doing this since I was 14 Claire. You've been stitching me up since the start. You know how tough this job is. If I don't go hard on him, the bad guys will and I don't have to remind you how that turns out,' Matt said sternly.

Claire looked at Matt like he had stabbed her in the back and Matt instantly regretted what he said.

Their argument was interrupted when a young half-Cuban, half African-American boy came out, wearing Superman pyjamas. 'Mom, why are you and Uncle Matt fighting?'

Claire picked him up and Matt put on a robe to hide his costume. 'It's ok Anthony. We're just having a really loud talk. Grown ups do that. I'll put you back to bed.'

Matt waved at Anthony before Claire took him away and he sighed. He tapped his foot impatiently while Claire put her son to bed. When she was finished Matt couldn't help but smile hearing Anthony's relaxed breathing. He was blind, there weren't many things he found adorable but his nephew was one of them.

'Alright,' Claire said walking back into the hall. 'Where were we?'

'I get that I'm tough on Peter but he's got a lot of potential. I'm not going to squander that.'

Claire put her hands on her hip and raised an eyebrow. Matt almost gulped. He knew what that body language entailed.

'He's not going to reach it if you keep treating him like a pinata,' she said. Without waiting for Matt's response she marched straight towards the room where Peter was resting, leaving Matt lost for words.

Why is she always right? He thought.

New York, Queens, June 20th, 2015:

Peter stared at his reflection for over half an hour. His nose had healed almost perfectly and if you ignored the mild pain whenever he flared his nostrils or the light redness at the ridge you couldn't tell it was ever broken.

Something tells me I'll be going to Claire's a lot this summer, Peter thought.

He quickly brushed his teeth and went downstairs to have his breakfast. Normally Peter would run down like a rabbit on a sugar high and wolf down whatever Aunt May had laid on the table but today all he did was nibble at his food unenthusiastically.

Noticing Peter's downtrodden mood Aunt May had made him pancakes lathered in chocolate and ice cream - a childhood favorite of Peter's. But in the time it took for Peter to eat two spoonfuls of food, the icecream had melted and formed a mud coloured pool on the plate. Something Aunt May did not appreciate at all.

She coughed to get Peter's attention and he looked at her like she had woken him up from a coma.

'Huh?' he said.

'If I knew you were starting to take your health more seriously I wouldn't have put that on the table,' she said using what Peter liked to call her mom voice.

Peter looked down at the mess that was once a delicious breakfast and suddenly his eyes popped wide open.

'Oh God. Sorry, I was just thinking about last night.'

'You mean that little shiner on your nose?'

'How'd you notice that?' Peter asked in a panic. He forgot that he lied and said he joined a boxing gym to justify any injuries he sustained in training.

Aunt May smiled. 'Your Uncle used to get into fights all the time when we were younger. I know my bruises,' she said. 'He even tried his hand at professional boxing before signing up with the military.'

'Seriously?' Uncle Ben actually boxed? I thought he picked it up in the army.'

'He had a few exhibition matches to entertain the troops but he always wanted to be a pro fighter. Though he wasn't all that good if I'm honest,' she said with a chuckle. 'Before that I think he wanted to be in the NBA.'

Peter shook his head and laughed. 'Yeah right. Harry could play basketball better than Uncle Ben.'

'But,' Aunt May said in a more serious tone. 'Your Uncle never gave up. He put his heart and soul into everything he did. He didn't always get the results he wanted. But the few times he did it was because he didn't give up when things got hard.'

The sudden shift in tone took Peter aback.

'So what you're saying is I should be ok with me getting beat up?'

Aunt May shrugged and took away Peter's plate. 'You were the one who chose to do that stupid sport. Way I see it, you need to go all in and do the best you can. That way even if you stop, at least you gave it your all. You'll have no regrets afterwards.'

She threw the food in the trash and started making a fresh batch of pancakes. 'Now clean those dishes young man.'

New York, Hell's Kitchen, June 20th, 2015:

Matt, Foggy and their client Miss Clayton sat opposed to five attorneys who were suing Miss Clayton for slander after she leaked information regarding Oscorps illegal clinical trials on children. Matt could hear Foggy's heart dancing around in his chest and he could not help but feel nervous as well.

But neither of them showed their anxiety. Instead Foggy spent his time taking notes and looking at his watch to distract himself while Matt put on his signature Murdock smile. Which was a mask that hid his disdain for the men and women sitting in front of him.

Can't believe we used to intern at a law firm like theirs, Matt thought while the opposing counsel readied their documents. A camera and a microphone were set up in the middle of the table to record the proceedings.

Matt heard one of the attorney's turn on the camera but before she did she said, quite sneeringly, 'Don't be intimidated by the decor and expensive suits. This will be over before you know it.' She wore an organic perfume that was so pungent Matt's nose hairs nearly burnt off.

'Let's hope so,' Matt said, maintaining his false smile.

Don't punch her in the face Matt. Doesn't matter how much she smells or how condescending she is, do not punch her, he thought.

Even Foggy and Miss Clayton were visibly uncomfortable from the pungent odor.

'What the hell kind perfume is that? Smells like a dead cat,' Foggy whispered to Matt.

'Shh. They're about to start recording,' Matt said.

The attorneys on both sides introduced themselves for the record along with the accused - Miss Clayton.

'I think it's best if we start with… ' the female attorney - whose name was Sofia Harrington - started to say till Foggy interrupted her.

'Forgive me councilor but seeing as though this is a settlement meeting wouldn't it be prudent if we were to discuss our client's terms first?' Foggy said.

Matt smiled. He loved how easily Foggy could turn on his formal vocabulary like a switch.

Sofia looked at Foggy and nodded.

'For the record, she nodded,' Foggy said to the mic.

'It's the stenographer's job to note down the events of Mr. Nelson, not yours,' one of the opposing counselors said.

Matt patted Foggy on the wrist, indicating that it was his turn to speak.

'As you can see in the documents in front of you our client demands that Oscorp industries pay her a sum total of $5 million in compensation. Both for her unjust firing and the slander to her name and reputation,' Matt said.

Sofia shook her head and smirked. 'Mr. Murdock, your client is the one being sued for spreading false information about Oscorp industries. Her demands and claims are baseless.'

'Baseless? Then I wonder why the district attorney's launching an investigation on Oscorp regarding the illegal experimentation on children. The proof's been leaked online,' Foggy said.

Matt frowned. Someone planted a usb drive filled with that information on the doorstep of their fledgling law firm. Which seemed far too convenient.

After verifying that the drive's contents were legitimate, they gave it to the police. Though Matt had his friend Lakshmi make a copy and send it to Nightwing in case the drive was 'misplaced' by the police.

'That supposed proof has no bearing in these negotiations,' Sofia said.

'Regardless, our client won't accept your offer, which is lacking to say the least,' Matt said while he traced his fingers on the braille copy of the opposing counsel's offer. 'And if you don't accept ours then we will have no choice but to take this to court. Which can't be good for Oscorps PR. Plus, with the DA's investigation and several other Oscorp employees willing to corroborate the information that was leaked online, a jury is never going to deliver a verdict in your favour.'

The opposing counsel sat quietly.

'So you can either accept our client's offer or you can drag this to a courtroom where we'll demand twice the amount we are now,' Foggy said confidently, spurred on by Matt's verbal one-two punch combo.

The Oscorp attorneys mumbled amongst themselves and asked that the meeting be postponed so that they can discuss terms with their client. Matt and Foggy agree and leave the room along with Miss Clayton.

'What happens now?' Miss Clayton asked.

'They'll evaluate their options and come back to us with a decision,' Matt said.

'And that means they'll either give us the money or take it to court. Might take them a few weeks,' Foggy added.

Foggy continued talking to Miss Clayton while Matt focused his hearing on what the opposing counsel was saying behind the door.

'We can't seriously go to Norman Osborn with this. He'll drop our firm and we can't afford to lose a client that big,' one of the attorneys said.

'Exactly. We'll take it to court. The DA's investigation doesn't matter until they prove definitively that Oscorp is responsible for those experiments.'

'I understand that Paul but we can offer them a counter offer. $1 million, which is a lot less than Mr Osborn stands to lose if we go to court and lose the case,' Sofia said. 'We'll go to Mr Osborn and tell him as much.'

Matt continued listening in on the conversation even as he was entering the elevator with Foggy and Miss Clayton. He had to concentrate more the further down the building he went but what he heard next was unexpected.

'Is it done?' Wesley asked Sofia over what sounded like a burner phone.

That's Mr. Fisk's assistant. Why is he talking to her? Matt thought.

'Yes. I'll tell Mr Osborn to settle. I've done as you asked. Please let my husband go,' she said sobbing.

'He won't be harmed. Thank you counselor,' Wesley said coldly before cutting the call.

Matt was alarmed when Foggy patted him on the back, breaking his concentration.

'You okay bud? You were so zoned out I thought you'd gone deaf,' Foggy said with a laid-back tone.

Matt couldn't answer.

What the hell did we get ourselves into?

New York, Hell's Kitchen, June 20th, 2015:

Peter leapt on top of a flagpole and as it bent downwards used the momentum to launch himself several feet in the air as it sprang back to its original position. When he felt himself starting to fall he stretched out his hands and stuck to the outside of the building and placed his feet on its surface to stabilize him.

I'm getting pretty good at this, he thought before he started climbing up the wall briskly. I'm fine with working my ass off but if he pulls another stunt like yesterday I'm out, Peter thought.

He reached the top of the building where they usually trained and for a brief moment Peter thought he had climbed the wrong building.

'I wasn't sure which you'd preferred so I bought a few cheese burgers, pizzas, fries, coke and something I think that's meant to be fried chicken,' Daredevil said as he sat on a chair with boxes of fast foot inside greasy brown paper bags.

Peter approached his mentor skeptically. 'Is this an olive branch or are you giving me poisoned Big Belly Burger to test my healing? Cus I think those things are bad enough for your health as is.'

Daredevil unfolded another chair and placed it next to him. 'Only danger here is what all this junk will do to my abs. Trust me you're fine,' he said sincerely.

Peter cautiously sat on the chair after making sure that it wouldn't collapse under his weight. He picked up a burger from one of the bags and started unwrapping it. The two ate in silence for an eerily uncomfortable time with neither person being able to move the conversation forward.

After finishing his second burger and third piece of pizza Peter pointed to the fries and asked, 'You gonna eat that?'

Daredevil shook his head and Peter used his finger tips to pick the styrofoam container out of the bag. He gazed at it for a moment and said, 'It's ironic how they give us paper bags to be all environmentally friendly but the fries and burger are packaged in things like styrofoam and aluminum.'

'You're talking to a Catholic who dresses like the Devil. I'm the walking definition of irony, Daredevil said, taking a sip of Coke.

Peter gave Daredevil a puzzled look. 'I never really thought you'd be religious.'

'Neither did I when I was a kid. But 14 years of blindness coupled with Sunday school sort of drills it into you,' Daredevil said.

'Wait!' Peter exclaimed. 'You're actually blind? I thought it was an act.'

Daredevil smirked. 'I would have to be a special kind of prick to fake a disability to maintain a secret identity.'

'Yeah. But it's a pretty good alibi. "Your honor, is this man guilty?", "How can he be councilor? He can't see," Peter said, deepening his voice. 'Oh sorry. I wasn't trying to make fun of you.'

'It's fine. I was more offended by that little courtroom drama you did there. A judge doesn't determine guilt. That's the jury's job.'

'Please tell me you're not a lawyer. Cus if you are then I've literally insulted you twice with one sentence.'

'Yep,' Daredevil said. 'Defence attorney. Fresh out of law-school.'

'So you're a blind ninja and a lawyer? That's pretty cool. So do you have some sort of sonar like a bat? Is that how you can hear so well?'

'Not exactly. The chemicals that blinded me had some radioactive isotope that enhanced all of my senses. I just use all the input I get from them to visualise the world around me,' Daredevil said while he was munching away at his pizza. 'Enough about me. What about you? Any idea what you'd like to major in when you get to college?'

'I've literally got no idea. I know I want to do something science related but I can't pick a branch.'

Daredevil twiddled his thumbs while he was thinking of something else to say.

'You've got a few more years to figure that out. So… the weather is nice tonight.'

Peter looked at him quizzically. 'You're really struggling here aren't you?'

'Yeah. Look Peter I'm sorry. My mentor was an ass. He put my life in danger all the time as a kid when we were training. It made me stronger but I forgot how much I hated it. I'm not apologizing for being tough on you but pushing you off the roof was a bad call,' Matt said in the most sincere way he could.

'Ok. Cool,' Peter replied swiftly.

'Wait. That's it?.'

'Yep. At least you didn't push me off the Empire State building. But if you do something that dumb again I'm doing this hero thing without you.'

'Fair enough,' Daredevil said. 'Though if you did go solo this early you'd probably be minced meat by the end of the week.'

'That's why I'm sticking around. I'm gonna be doing Bruce Lee moves on bad guys before school starts.'

Daredevil was amused by Peter's enthusiasm. 'I'll teach you how to box and wrestle first. We can think about the fancy stuff later.'

'But that's so boring. Then again my Uncle used to box so I guess that's alright.'

'He did? Did he fight pro?'

'I think so. Let me look him up,' Peter said as he scrolled tapped away at his phone. 'Yeah. 4 fights. 2 wins, 1 draw and a loss to some dude called Jack Murdock.'

Daredevil let out an ear splitting laugh which nearly deafened Peter.

'Oh wow your Uncle must've been bad if my dad beat him.'

'Your dad?' Peter asked.

'He was a journeyman before he retired and became a cop. Lost way more than he won. But he had a hell of a chin. You could beat on him for 12 rounds and you'd break your hands before you had a chance to knock him out. And if your Uncle lost to him he must have been terrible. No offense,' Daredevil said.

Peter noticed that Daredevil didn't bother to deepen his voice like he usually did when he talked about his father.

'I think I preferred it when you were throwing me off a building,' Peter said facetiously.

'That can be arranged,' Daredevil said, reverting back to his usual "Devil voice".

'I'll just stick to the floor for the next couple minutes,' Peter said. 'So your name's… Matthew?' he said looking up Jack Murdock online.

'Matt. I figured if we're going to do this properly you ought to know my name.'

'You trust me that much? Why?'

Daredevil patted Peter on the back and said, 'When you found the guy who killed your Uncle you tried to help him after you accidentally broke his arm. I wasn't that merciful to the man who shot at my folks. That kind of kindness isn't something you can teach.

'If I'm hard on you it's because I think you could become a better hero than me. God knows we need more good people helping out in the world,' Daredevil said with so much gusto that Peter thought he was in a movie where the hero gives everyone an inspirational speech.

'That's a lot to process.'

'Trust me. There's a lot more.'

New York, Hell's Kitchen, June 20th, 2015:

'I've never made a suit for someone with superstrength before,' Melvin Potter said as he wrapped some measuring tape over Peter's arm. 'You sure he needs armour?'

'The kid's plenty durable. We just need to give him a little added protection from knives and gunfire,' Daredevil said while placing a box of chocolate milk in Melvin's mini fridge.

Peter looked around Melvin's workshop in awe. The outside looked like a rundown building but the inside was littered with tech and materials. He could see hydraulic armour, bullet resistant fabric and the remains of a Daredevil helmet among other things.

'So you're the guy who made Daredevil's armour?' Peter asked Melvin who, at his full height, was taller and even more muscular than Daredevil. Plus with his bald head and goatee Peter thought he looked like a buff Walter White.

'That and the billy clubs,' Melvin replied, noting down Peter's measurements.

'Is he paying you in chocolate milk?' Peter asked.

'Nah. It's an old tradition,' Melvin said with an almost childlike glee. Which completely juxtaposed his rough exterior.

'And what do you do?' Peter asked the diminutive man in the corner of the shop who was examining Peter's web shooters.

Wilbur looked at Peter with an annoyed expression. 'I'm the guy who does the actual work around here. Gladiator over there can't wrap his head around electronics or anything to do with mechanical engineering. He's a glorified tailor.'

Here we go, Matt thought, rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

Melvin pointed at a pair of long, cylindrical, metal legs partially hidden under a tarp. 'Coming from the idiot who thought Stilt-Man was a good name.'

'Stilt-Man? That was you?' Peter asked Wilbur.

'Alright. Out with the jokes. I've heard them all,' Wilbur said, mentally bracing himself.

'That armour was so cool. How did you power the suit? What'd you use to insulate the internal circuits? Why the hell did you use that tech to be a super villain? Am I asking too many questions?' Peter blurted out in quick succession.

'Custom lithium-ion battery, polyurethane foam, I was really dumb and no, ask away,' Wilbur replied just as quickly.

Melvin looked at Peter like he was a leper. 'Did he just complement Wilbur's suit?' he asked Daredevil who was equally as surprised.

'I think so,' he told Melvin.

'That kid's got issues,' he responded to Daredevil.

'You're preaching to the choir,' Daredevil whispered. He then clapped his hands loudly which caught the attention of the other two. 'Alright Wilbur, you're meant to be helping him with those web-shooters,' Daredevil said with crossed arms.

Wilbur went back to work and once again took a look at Peter's web-shooters.

'This thing looks like it was made with 10 bucks worth of junk,' Wilbur said.

'Hey. I spend 50 on these. It was all the cash I had,' Peter said defensively.

'Oh I'm not knocking your efforts kid. The way you managed to synthesize this web fluid is genius. I wouldn't even know where to start. But the actual shooter is really flimsy. See, the nozzle's already started to jam up, Wilbur said, showing Peter some white residue where the webs would usually shoot out.

'If you kept using these the nozzle would either get completely blocked up, causing the web-cartridge to blow up or just stop working entirely. And if you're gonna swing around like him using these, that wouldn't end well.'

Daredevil stepped in. 'Can you do anything about it?'

Wilbur scratched his head. 'I could modify the kid's design with sturdier materials and a better release mechanism but I'll need a few cartridges of his webs to test them out.'

'I'm sure we can arrange that. What about you Melvin?' Daredevil said.

'I've got everything I need to make his suit. I just need to figure out what it should look like.'

Peter scrolled through his phone and pulled up a photo. 'Will these do? I drew up a few designs the other day.'

Melvin looked at Peter's drawings and nodded in approval. 'This might not look half-bad. You decide on a hero name yet?'

A broad smile formed behind Peter's wrestling mask.

'Spider-Man,' he said confidently.

Instead of the awestruck reaction Peter had expected from the two hearing his name for the first time, Melvin and Wilbur simply stared at him blankly.

'Generic,' Melvin said.

'But catchy,' Wilbur added.

Daredevil interjected by saying, 'If we live in a world where Superman's an acceptable name. Then Spider-Man is perfectly fine. Though it does sound weird saying it out loud.'

Peter blushed as the adults around him kept discussing his name.

Maybe I should have stuck with Tarantuala-Guy.

New York, Manhattan, June 21st, 2015:

Norman Osborn was not one to succumb to fear. When he told his mother that he would be leaving his small town in Connecticut to study in New York, the idea of leaving everything he knew behind terrified him. Yet he moved across the country and graduated first of his class.

When he decided to leave his high paying government job to start his own company he was afraid that he would lose everything. His marriage was put to the test with every sacrifice he and his wife had to make for the benefit of the company. But through years of hard work he built one of the world's leading biotech companies.

When Amanda Waller came to Norman about a secret government contract to make super-soldiers, he did not bat an eye. The idea of being the sole proprietor of a product like that excited him. When news came out that Cadmus was experimenting on children behind his back he wasn't frightened. He had enough dirt to expose them if they pinned the blame on him.

But the man in front of him could tear down everything he built with one word.

And that terrified him.

'Mr Osborn. Have a seat,' Wilson Fisk said, who was already leaning back on a leather chair.

The two met in secret in a small condo outside of New York. Norman had to switch vehicles multiple times to ensure he wasn't being followed.

'You've chosen quite the location Mr. Fi-,' Norman said. But before he could even sit down Wesley - who was standing near the doorway interrupted him.

'We don't say his name,' Wesley said robotically.

'This location isn't bugged. I've checked,' Norman said.

'Let's ignore the formalities Mr Osborn and discuss business,' Fisk said as Wesley handed Norman a series of files.

Norman flipped through the documents and his face turned pale.

Fisk stared straight into Norman's eyes without blinking even once. 'Money laundering, tax evasion, illegal drug use and infidelity. This but a small portion of the information we have gathered about you Mr Osborn. I can't imagine the public would take kindly to your personal habits.'

'What do you want?' Norman asked.

Fisk placed his hands on the table. Right next to Norman's, who looked like a child compared to Fisks' frame. He leaned in closer and Norman turned his head, feeling uncomfortable with the invasion of his personal space.

'I can stop the district attorney's investigation on your company as well as prevent the further staining of your name by preventing the information in front of you from leaking to the press, SEC or your wife. All for a price,' Fisk said

'Which is?'

Fisk gave Norman a dry smile.

'You shall soon find out,' Fisk said, pushing the large table aside like it was made of Styrofoam. 'In the meantime, pay Miss Clayton what she is due. A former employee of mine will not be slighted by the likes of you.'

Wesley and Fisk left the room and walked past Norman's bodyguards without a care. They got what they wanted.

Norman Osborn. Scared and willing to cooperate. And what an ally he would be.

And that's a wrap. God this took way too long to write.

I hope the slow pace of the story isn't irritating you guys. I just wanted to set up a few things before Peter officially becomes Spider-Man and joins the Team.

If anyone knows how I can learn more about the American law and the justice system that would be really helpful. Since unlike fight scenes and the pseudo science I use in the story I have no previous knowledge on that subject matter.

Hope you all are doing well. Get vaccinated and enjoy the story.