A/N: Ok, first things first: Thank you all for 100+ follows and 2,500+ views! I'm so excited and I can't stop smiling. I didn't expect such a positive reaction, and I'm so glad you all like it! I hope this chapter doesn't let you down. Thank you!
Anyways, make sure to leave any comments/suggestions in the reviews below! Enjoy the chapter!
Warnings: Mentions of illegal activities.
The first thing Peter noticed was how freezing it was. The second thing was that a layer of snow (Actual snow!) was covering part of his thin blanket. Most of his face and torso were fine because of the makeshift cardboard roof above his head. And the third thing was how sleepy he felt, despite how freaking cold it was (wait, I'm not shivering. Why am I not shivering?). Peter knew that he had school today, but he couldn't seem to drag his sluggish body off of the tiny mattress.
He just sat and watched the snow fall lazily around him.
It was the ringing of his cell phone that finally jolted him out of his haze. His fingers moved at a comically slow pace, but he was able to answer.
"H-hello?"
"Yeah, kid, um… Where are you?" (Mr. Stark! My Internship!)
"I'm com'n. B'there inna min't," he spoke, words slurred.
"Are you ok, Pete? What's wrong? Where are you?"
(So many questions) "Yeah, m'fine. Jus… tired is'all," Peter responded, rubbing his face in an attempt to get blood flowing again. "See ya soon, Misser Stark."
"Kid, are you sure you're-"
Peter hung up. He rolled over onto his side and shook the snow off of his toes; everything was in aggravating slow motion (why can't I function? This is so frustrating). He managed to grab his mask and web slingers, but was having more trouble in the getting up department.
He shot a web on the side of the cement block beside him and yanked himself up. Blood rushed to his feet and he couldn't see for a moment. Once his vision was clear, Peter swung off the roof in what he guessed was the general direction of the Tower.
xXx
Tony tapped his foot and looked at his watch. Peter usually only took five minutes to get here… it had been 20. He was starting to get worried.
Just as he was about to dial the kid's phone number, Peter stumbled into the lab. He was wearing a ripped jacket and gray sweatpants… and his Spider-Man mask, which Tony figured was an odd fashion choice. He leaned onto the side of the doorframe and waved casually.
"Sorry m'late."
"Kid. The mask." Tony gestured to his own face.
Peter ripped it off, looking slightly disheveled, and threw it aside. Then, he moved to walk but his legs moved too slow for his center of gravity, and he fell.
Tony shot forward and grabbed him before he made contact with the cement, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Holy crap, Peter, you're freezing! What happened?"
"It's… cold," he said, shrugging half-heartedly.
The mechanic bit back a sarcastic remark and helped him upstairs to the living room. He flicked on the gas fireplace and set the child in front of it. Peter laid down, immediately moving closer to the flames (it's so warm) and curling into a ball.
Tony bustled around. "FRI? Where does Pepper keep those spare blankets?"
"In the basket by the ottoman, boss."
He grabbed them and threw the heaviest ones haphazardly on Peter. "There you go, bud. Hungry?"
At this point, Peter was too out of it to even argue. He just nodded, snuggling deeper into the burrito of warmth (this feels so nice). He must have dozed off because suddenly Mr. Stark was leaning in front of him with a steaming cup of hot chocolate and a PB&J.
"This is about the best I can do."
Peter shifted into a sitting position and gratefully accepted the food (it's been a while since someone has made me something). He inhaled the sandwich, but was forced to slow down on the hot chocolate.
"Now. Why in the… heck were you so cold? What were you doing?"
"I-I dunno. I guess I was just outside too long… and then I felt super weird. Like I couldn't move or do anything but lay down and watch the snow fall… so that's what I did." He licked his chapped lips. Obviously, this wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't technically a lie either (lying by omission is still lying). "I didn't even realize how much time had passed until you called me."
Tony rubbed his head. "That's… You know what? I don't know what that is. Strange? Abnormal? All words I would use."
"Sorry, Mr. Stark, I didn't mean-"
"No no… it's fine. Let's just figure it out together, kay?"
"Excuse me, boss, but may I offer an opinion?" FRIDAY's chipper voice rang through the living room.
"Yeah, sure," he responded. It couldn't hurt.
"We may want to consider that Peter was bitten by a spider and thus has gained some traits of the species. Spiders are known to be able to withstand the cold by becoming less active or dormant. In fact, some can even survive in temperatures as low as -5 degrees Celsius or 23 degrees Fahrenheit. When the temperatures reach that low, I predict that the part of Peter that contains human instinct would begin normal homeostasis-maintaining negative feedback loops, such as shivering or constriction of blood vessels, but before then he remains as inactive as possible to conserve energy. I recommend staying in temperatures less than 0 degrees Celsius or 32 degrees Fahrenheit for less than three hours at a time, and installing specialized heating systems in Mr. Parker's suit."
"That was… enlightening. Thanks, FRI." Tony pondered for a moment, then nodded and looked at Peter. "Make a note of that kid: no Spider-People outside without a specially-modified supersuit."
Peter laughed. "I'll try to remember that." He was starting to gain feeling in his limbs back; the fire-hot-chocolate-fuzzy-blanket combo was working.
"Well, stay put for a minute until you're warm." Tony stood and walked to the door. "I'll be back in ten, kid. Gonna get a render started on those mods... Hang in there." He shot finger guns and strolled out of the room in the direction of the lab. Peter didn't see him breathe a sigh of relief just outside the door. Thank goodness the kid's alright.
"What on earth are you doing?"
Peter turned his head to see Loki, standing in the doorway and glaring at the fire. His curly black hair was tied into a small ponytail, and he was wearing his usual green leather getup.
"Oh, I uh… apparently getting bitten by a spider also means that I am unable to function when I'm cold," he chuckled. "Thus, the cocoon of blankets."
"That explains why it's so unbearably hot in here," Loki smirked. He looked down at his fingertips, which were tinted slightly blue.
"Oh! I can change it-" Peter started to get up, but the other man waved him down.
"No, no. I'll manage; I've survived much worse. You, however, need to function."
Loki came over and sat on the couch, looking uncomfortable (should I say something?).
"So, uh, Mr. Loki… not to be rude but, what are you doing here? I thought you and Thor were on a mission somewhere."
"Ah. Right. Yes, well, Thor and I handled it… faster than expected."
There was a pause in their conversation as Peter pondered this. "Mr. Loki? Do you think I could come with you and Thor on a mission sometime?"
Loki almost cringed. "Heavens no, child. We normally go far too north for you; obviously your body couldn't handle it."
"But… Mr. Stark is making modifications to my suit so it's warmer! Come on, please…."
Again the God was amazed at Peter's puppy-dog eyes. How does one look so innocent?
"I feel it's not entirely up to me."
As if on cue, Tony walked back in. He narrowed his eyes at Loki on the couch, but didn't really seem to care that he was there.
"Mr. Stark! We were just talking and... I want to go on a mission with Thor and Loki?" The end of Peter's sentence lifted up like a question.
His mouth actually dropped open. "Absolutely not."
"But-"
"Peter, those missions are insanely dangerous! You've been a hero for less than 6 months. I won't allow it," he said, crossing his arms.
"Why do they go if they're so dangerous?" The kid didn't say it with sass, but genuine curiosity. He gestured to Loki. "Won't they get hurt?"
"Listen... Point Break and Glinda are gods. Literally. You're a kid; you could get hurt."
"I'm not a child, Mr. Stark. I'm 17." Peter scrunched his eyebrows.
"You're 17? I thought you were 16." Tony was certain FRIDAY told him 16.
He looked away. "Yeah… my school records haven't been updated in a while..." (crap. I forgot that Aunt May hadn't done that… and then…)
Loki looked between the two of them, feeling incredibly awkward, and then clapped his hands. Him and Peter had been talking a lot in the past few weeks, and Peter recognized this as a sign that he wanted to leave. "Well. It has been lovely, but since this is settled, I suppose I should be going."
There was a small pop, and they were alone (I was right).
"Listen, kid." Tony moved to sit in front of Peter, who was avoiding eye contact. "It's not that I don't think you could do it… but… those missions." He shook his head. "It's serious, bud. You could get... hurt." He shook his head. " What would I tell your Aunt?" (I forgot. He thinks I live with my "mom's sister")
"Ok, I-I guess that makes sense, Mr. Stark… but, maybe one day?"
"Alright, Pete. If you're ready, I'll think about it." Tony smirked. "Good talk. Now, back to work."
xXx
If you're ready, I'll think about it. Peter couldn't deny that those words sparked something in him. Something like excitement. If he could prove that he was ready to fight like an Avenger, then they would let him go on missions. Maybe he could even meet Black Widow! He hopped from building to building on his nightly patrol, scanning the streets.
Peter stopped on a tall lamppost, observing two hooded men trade a black duffel in the shadows of an alleyway.
"That cannot be legal," he said to himself. Assuming it was a drug deal, he trailed the larger guy, and bugged the other one, all silently and without them noticing. The big guy with the duffel hopped into a beige van, slamming the door and then taking off.
He followed the van at a safe distance until the tall buildings and noisy streets traded for small suburbs with barking dogs. Occasionally, Peter accidentally knocked over a trash can, picking it up and whispering a quick, "Sorry!"
Eventually the van pulled into a large abandoned hospital (that is beyond creepy), parking under the emergency room's awning. The guy and a few others stepped out, looked around them, then entered the unnaturally terrifying building in a single file line.
Peter chose the more inventive route, crawling through a window and sticking to the ceiling. He followed the sound of their footsteps and the beams of their flashlights until they reached a large, frankly disgusting room that had empty hospital beds with yellowing sheets. Rat droppings scattered the floor, and he was pretty sure he saw the culprits scuttling away from the light (this is so gross).
If only he could say that was the nastiest place he'd been in.
The squad of men walked up to a muscular guy who was facing the window, observing the stars. One man chucked the duffel at his feet.
"We got it," he growled. "Now pay up."
"First," Mr. Muscular said. "I have to examine the goods." His voice was impatient, but commanded authority (I recognize it somehow. Think, Peter, Think. Where do you know him from?).
He turned away from the night sky, but frustratingly, the shadows covered his features (adjust, super-sensitive eyes! Adjust!). After affirming that "the goods" were what he asked for, Mr. Muscular snatched the bag and pulled a bulky wad from his pocket. He threw it at them. Growly caught it, examining the cash.
Peter's eyes were beginning to focus. "Karen," he whispered (I'll never get used to having an AI in the suit. Thank you, Mr. Stark). "Scan their faces if you can."
"On it, Peter," she replied softly. After a moment, she said, "The three are identified as Marcus Benno, Terrence Johnson, and Jon Benn." A few mugshots came into view.
"And the other guy?"
"Kary Ammons," Karen said.
It took everything in him not to gasp. "Mr. Ammons? As in, my gym teacher?"
"It appears so."
He watched with horrified fascination as the men left, and his teacher moved to a different room ('Hi, my name is Peter Parker. I'm a Junior at Midtown High, a web slinging superhuman, and my PE teacher deals drugs.' When does it end?). Slowly, he tailed, trying to rid the shock from his system.
Mr. Ammons arrived in an old operating room that had been remodeled to be some sort of base camp. A few computers rested on an old card table, and a bulletin board with pictures, dates, and newspapers stood in the corner. The man shoved the duffel bag in a case, locked it, and then left the room.
Peter counted to 30 and then swung down in front of the bulletin board.
"Oh my gosh," he said, bringing a hand to his masked face. The board was filled with pictures of all the Avengers and their identities. Each was marked with a label; Iron Man, Tony Stark. Captain America, Steve Rogers. Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff. The list went on and on. Peter was shocked to see a news clipping of himself; the label read: Spider-Man, ?
He took a stumbling step back, bumping against the card table. Desperate to leave, he scrambled toward the door, stopped by a certain muscular figure.
"I really wish you hadn't seen that."
A/N: I apologize for the cliffhanger! The next chapter will be up as soon as possible ;)
REVIEWS:
Beachgirl25: Yeah, I was hoping that would make sense as I wrote it. :D
orangiethefox: Teehee, we'll have to find out ;)
Belbelanne: No, but something like that will come into play later.
xXxOtAkU-444xXx: Thanks so much!
BeccaSco: Thank you! You're too sweet!
Ori: Wow thank you! And don't worry, I won't; there are more things to come!
See you next time!
-katilange