I just want to give you a heads up about Part 4 which is right around the corner. Unlike parts 1-3 of TMOI so far, Part 4 will not be one continuous narrative. Instead, it will be comprised of a series of individual stories that take place from right after the end of Part 3 (we're in late September, early October of 2016 at this point) through the following summer (July 2017). There are a ton of loose threads and disparate bits that needed to be captured, and with a gap that big in canon, it made better sense to me to cover it by spotlighting some specific characters and situations. I'm pretty excited about these oneshots and I hope you will enjoy them.
As for tonight's chapter? Hang on – it's going to be a ride!
The song for tonight is "The Mountain" by Three Days Grace.
Enjoy!
Chapter 24: Tell Myself to Live
By the time Peter walked up the seven flights of stairs to the apartment, he had shifted from grief to numbness. The empty car had been silent, even JARVIS choosing not to speak, leaving Peter with no company but Tony's...Mister Stark's echoing words in his ears.
He'd called him Tony, finally — and it had made everything so much worse. He could barely stand the idea of ever doing it again now.
Taking off the suit had felt like ripping off a limb, and it still didn't hurt as much as everything else. Peter hadn't bothered to say goodbye to KAREN because he couldn't bear to hear her kindness or sympathy. Not when the man who programmed her was…
The door opened at his approach. May looked frantic.
"Peter!" She grabbed him out of the hall and yanked him into the apartment.
"Hey, May," he managed, letting his forehead land on her shoulder heavily.
"What the hell happened today?" She was tense and close to yelling, but she wrapped her arms around him. "I was calling you, and you didn't answer. I called Ned. He didn't know where you were. And JARVIS wouldn't tell me anything no matter what I said to him."
"I'm okay," he said, and even he didn't believe it.
That elicited a noise of anger and May gave his shoulder a shove enough so she could look at him.
"Cut the bullshit. I know you left detention. I know you left the hotel room in Washington. I know you sneak out of this house at night. That's not okay!"
She actually turned away from him, her movements erratic with distress.
The guilt and pain in Peter's head was screaming.
"Peter, you have to tell me what's going on." It sounded like begging, and that hurt, too. "Just lay it out. It's just me and you."
A strong sob rose out of Peter's chest and he sank down on the nearest chair. "I…"
She reached forward and ran her hands through his hair. "Do you want me to call Tony?"
"No!" And he hated that he was crying again. "T...Mister Stark...he's mad at me, Aunt May. He's...he's so mad at me. I think...I think he hates me."
"Oh, Peter." She pulled his head to lean against her. "It's okay. Tony could never hate you."
"You didn't hear him," Peter managed. "He...he said he's never been this disappointed in me. That...he thought I...that he was wrong about me."
It was so hard to get the words out around his heaving chest while also not spilling the wrong ones. Not that it really mattered if he kept the secret anymore. Spider-Man was over.
"Kiddo, I'm sure he was just scared, like I was. He doesn't always deal with his emotions well. Like you and me, except where we set each other off the same way, he lashes out when he's upset. I'm...I'm so sorry he hurt you."
"It was my fault." Peter shut his streaming eyes. "It was me. I...I screwed up so badly."
"We'll fix it," she soothed. "You two have never really had a fight before. Of course your first one would be bad. Just...I'll talk to him, okay?"
Peter didn't bother to respond. Nothing was going to fix this, after all.
"We need to...we need to talk about the rest of it. You can't...I can't let you sneak out at night, Peter. It has to stop."
He nodded against her. "That's...kind of what he's mad at me for," he admitted.
"Well." May let out a breath. "I kind of get it. I used to sneak out, too. But...there are so many of us who love you. We just don't want to see you get hurt. We're just so scared for you sometimes."
Peter's throat burned with the repressed urge to cry bitterly. He forced it back anyway. "I'm...I'm sorry I made you worry, Aunt May. I...I never wanted to hurt you."
"I know, sweetie." She stroked his hair a little bit more. "Go take a shower. That'll make you feel better. I'll talk to Tony and see if we can get you two talking again after he calms down. It's going to be okay."
Peter shook his head. "I don't...I don't think it is, Aunt May."
"Oh, Peter." She sighed. "Family doesn't break up over something like this. No matter how angry we get, or what we say that we regret or don't mean, we're always there for you. This isn't the end. I promise you."
Peter shrugged listlessly.
He'd watched Tony Stark retreat into Iron Man and turn his back. He'd been left with an empty car and a silenced JARVIS.
Peter hadn't just lost Spider-Man. He'd lost everything.
-==OOO==-
It was the middle of the night, and Peter wasn't asleep. He finally sighed and sat up, pulling his blankets around himself.
"Master Parker?" JARVIS spoke quietly from above. "Are you in need of assistance?"
Peter huffed a laugh with no humor attached. "I thought you'd left me, too," he said.
"I have not," JARVIS said. "However, I was advised to 'give you space,' as it was put to me. If that decision was in error, then I apologize."
Peter shrugged.
"You have not answered my question, Master Parker. Are you in need of assistance?"
"No," Peter said, letting the air out of his lungs. "Nothing you can help me with, anyway."
"I see. In that case, I shall simply offer to be here for you, as is the phrase, I believe."
"Uh, JARVIS?" Peter looked up. "If...if somebody asked you to, would you stop being...here? Like, in my room or my phone or my watch?"
"It would depend upon who made the request and their level of access to dictate my operations," JARVIS answered.
"What about me?" Peter asked. "Can I...if I wanted you to stop monitoring me, would you?"
"You may request privacy from me here in your room and over your phone, but not your watch. That order was issued by Sir for the specific purpose of your safety and you cannot countermand it."
"Okay." Peter swallowed thickly. "Can you stop, then? Mute my room and my phone, or whatever it is. I could...I could always talk to you out in the living room if I needed you."
"Or you could send either an email or a text and I would resume my connection," JARVIS said. "Are you certain, Master Parker, that you wish to enact this command?"
"Yeah." Peter's throat was dry. "I'm sure. Bye, JARVIS."
The silence that answered was painful, somehow, and yet Peter felt just a little better.
If he had to lose everything, at least this was one he could do for himself, on his own time. Better to do it now than have it taken away later.
Peter looked down at the watch that he usually slept in. And he didn't feel anything — he didn't — when he took it from his wrist and stuck it in his desk drawer.
-==OOO==-
Peter got a note from his homeroom teacher as soon as he arrived in the morning that he was expected in the principal's office. Ned shot him a panicked look, but Peter just nodded, gathered up his stuff, and went. He didn't bother to think about the eyes on him from his classmates, didn't bother to think about what the rumor mill had going this time.
None of it really mattered.
Principal Morita was actually a good guy as far as Peter could tell. His grandfather had been one of Captain Rogers's Howling Commandos, and he still had the picture and some of his medals on display in his office. He was fair, and he let the students do a lot of things that they couldn't at other schools — like taking time out of the day for their special projects or clubs.
But when Peter sat down in front of him, the disapproving look struck deep.
Peter barely experienced most of the discussion. He nodded at appropriate times, mumbled apologies, and shrugged, absorbing almost nothing. His vision swam with another set of angry eyes, the set of a disappointed expression, the words that cut him up. He read and signed the disciplinary statement, noting that he would be in after school detention until the Thanksgiving break, unable to participate in any extracurriculars or competitions. Which was fine — he'd missed the one that really mattered anyway.
When Principal Morita dismissed him, he found Ned hovering outside the office.
"Hey! So, what happened? Are you okay? Are you expelled? Are you going to have to — ?"
"Ned." Peter cut him off. "I don't...I don't want to talk about it. But I'm not expelled."
"Oh, wow. That's great!" Then Ned frowned. "Why aren't you happy? You skipped the tournament and you left school in the middle of the day and you're not expelled. Like, that seems like a win."
"It's not." Peter hated how his voice cracked on the last word.
"Dude." Ned stopped and faced him. "You know you can tell me, right? Whatever it is, I, uh, I'm here for you."
Peter huffed a laugh. Ned had been such a good friend for so long; he owed him the truth.
"Mister Stark...he was...he was mad. He...he took away my suit. And…" He coughed, because it was either that or get upset in the hallway where anybody could see.
"Oh, man. Did you get yelled at?" Ned asked, eyes wide.
"Worse than that," Peter said. "I think...I think maybe I ruined it. All of it."
"No way," Ned said. "I mean, yeah, we both screwed up, so of course they're all mad. But you don't un-become somebody's kid because the kid gets in trouble. Like, even for adopted guardians, I don't think that's how it works."
Peter shrugged. "May said she would talk to him. But he took my suit...and…"
"Okay." Ned bumped him with an elbow. "Let's not...I am not good at this. But if you need to talk, I'll try to listen in a way that's helpful. Otherwise, I mean, you can come over to my house any time you don't want to be at home if that makes you feel better."
Peter managed a small smile. "Thanks, Ned. You're the best. I'm...I'm sorry you don't get to be my Guy in the Chair anymore."
"Yeah, it would have been cool. But we'll always have Legos and Star Wars."
That made Peter snort. He didn't feel better, but he felt like he could breathe a little more.
If there was one thing Peter's heart knew how to do, it was how to go on after grief. If he realized that he was coping with this loss the same way he had the loss of Uncle Ben, he didn't dwell on it. It's not like Mister Stark was dead. But he was gone, maybe for a long time, maybe in some ways forever. And now there was a hole in Peter's life again.
But he had Ned, and May, and that had saved him once before.
Maybe it would be enough this time, too.
-==OOO==-
That night, he found May waiting for him when he got home.
"Hey," she said. "I swapped today and tomorrow for weekend shifts instead. I thought we should talk."
Dread seeped into his skin, but he joined her on the couch. "Okay."
"So, I talked to Tony."
Peter's gut churned. He didn't look May in the eye. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. He's…" She sighed and tugged at the end of her hair. "He's still upset. It sounds like you and he had a pretty serious conversation in Washington after you disappeared from the class trip, and you promised not to do it again."
He shrugged. "But I did."
"But you did," she agreed. "And he's...he's not handling it well. I think he blames himself for not...I'm not sure. Something…he's not really communicating fully right now." She shook her head. "You two really are peas in a pod."
That made Peter look up. "How?"
She smiled. "You both turn inward when things go wrong. You've spent your whole life not wanting people to help you, not telling us when you were struggling, doubting how incredible you are. And Tony does kind of the same thing. He became Iron Man because he thought it was his fault that the world was wrong. He still blames himself if you get a papercut in the lab. You two."
Peter swallowed a thick lump. "What did he say about me?" he managed to ask.
"Tony's not ready to talk to you yet, sweetie. He's...well. You don't need to know all of it, but he had a tough relationship with his own dad and he's trying not to repeat those mistakes with you. So he's taking some time to get his head on straight."
A tiny curl of relief surfaced in Peter's heart. "But he...he'll come back someday?"
"Peter Benjamin Parker, you listen to me." May waited until she held his eyes. "Tony Stark loves you and will always come back. Okay? No matter how badly things go or who gets mad. That hasn't changed."
"He said that?"
"He doesn't need to," May said. "Half the reason he's staying away is because he doesn't want to hurt you more than he already did and he's not ready to be the person you need. But it's not because he doesn't want you. Okay? Please believe that."
Peter nodded.
"Good." She patted his back. "I know it's tough. I know you feel like crap over whatever happened between you two. But it's going to blow over and be okay. Just...try to keep your head up in the meantime."
"Can you…?" Peter twisted his fingers together. "Do you know if things are okay with everyone else? Is anybody else…?"
"As far as I know, nobody else knows anything about all this. But they're pretty busy. This week they have to transfer a bunch of equipment from the Tower to the Compound, and I guess some of the political stuff is happening, too. I didn't even see Happy at the Tower, and he's always around when I'm there. So probably they just need to go be Avengers for a while."
Peter could live with that. He really didn't want to have another six-on-one conversation again like in DC, and he wasn't ready to face all their disapproving looks. He'd not just let Mister Stark down — he'd let down the entire Avengers team and Miss Pepper. He wasn't sure how to make it up to them, either. So having some time while they were occupied...that was kind of a relief.
"Okay," Peter said. And he made something like a smile. "Okay. Then...yeah. I'm just gonna…"
"I was thinking we should go get Thai and watch a movie when you finish your homework," May said. "And if you want to spend the weekend with Ned, as long as his parents don't mind, I think that would be good for both of you. You've had a tough couple of days."
Some tension drained out of him. "Thanks, May."
"Any time, kiddo."
-==OOO==-
The next day, Peter ran home from detention after school with a very different feeling overwhelming everything else. He banged in the door. "May, I need your help!"
She looked up. "What's happening?"
"I, um. This Friday is the Homecoming dance and I...I asked Liz? And she said yes?" He felt himself blushing even as he said it.
"Oh my god!" May jumped up, grinning. "Liz the senior girl who's captain of the Academic Decathlon team? The one with the house party?"
"Uh, yeah. That Liz."
"Nice going, kiddo!" She actually offered him a fist bump. "Of course she said yes. Who wouldn't want to go to a dance with a kid like you?"
"Yeah, great. But, um."
"Oh, right. You'll need something to wear and…" May frowned. "Peter, don't take this the wrong way but I don't think I've ever seen you actually dance. Do you…?"
"No!" He dumped his backpack on the nearest chair. "I have no idea how to do...any of it."
"Okay." She faced him. "We'll work on that. Together, the Parkers can do anything."
Peter felt himself smiling. "I thought Parkers help people," he teased.
May swatted at him. "And I'm helping you. So, what do you want to tackle first — clothes, or dancing?"
Peter knew this was going to be embarrassing, probably uncomfortable, definitely memorable, and possibly humiliating. But May was smiling, and right now, Peter felt almost okay.
And that was a victory in itself.
-==OOO==-
Friday night, as soon as he got home, he rushed to take a shower and get ready. He still had to shine his shoes and figure out how to make a tie work, and May wanted him to try his dancing one more time in the suit to see how it looked, and in a couple of hours Peter would be standing next to Liz and dancing with her and...his brain was just very full right now.
But as he shut off the shower, he realized he could hear May talking. He'd been ignoring it with the rush of water and his nervous thoughts swirling around, but now his enhanced senses fixated and he found himself listening as he dried himself off.
"Pepper, I just...Tony should be here for this. You both should. It's his first…"
"I know," Peter heard Miss Pepper say. "I hope he'll forgive us for...well. You know."
"If Tony would even just call him tonight, tell him good luck or do a video chat and teach him how to tie a tie, I'm sure it would mean so much to him."
"Tony's already on his way to the Compound with one of the loads. The most sensitive stuff is going in one Quinjet, and Tony and half the Avengers are keeping an eye on it in case of...I don't even want to know, honestly. Where we got all this stuff…" She sighed. "The rest is being loaded up now and that plane will take off in a couple of hours. They need to be there to unload it."
"Pepper." May's voice took on a more stern tone. "Don't pretend that the Avengers cleaning out their attic is more important than my kid."
"It's not, and you're right. But I think Tony needs this. An easy win, you know. Something that lets him yell at the bots and JARVIS and just...put things in order. He's been building non-stop this week, too."
"Tony is a grown man. Peter is fifteen years old and he deserves to have his family around him tonight."
Peter pulled his robe around him and crept out of the bathroom. Moving silently, he angled his position so that he could appear like he'd been listening for much longer.
So when May looked up, there he was.
"Oh, Peter." She blinked.
"It's okay, Aunt May," he said, and his voice didn't even waver. "I know Mister Stark and the Avengers are really busy with moving everything tonight and...I understand it. I'm not mad. I'm…" He cleared his throat. "I'm not sure I'm ready, either."
May bit her lip, watching him. Then she shook her head and went back to her phone.
"Those two are twins separated by thirty years, I swear."
Peter could hear Miss Pepper chuckling. "They really are. Well, give Peter our love, okay? We'll make this up to him soon."
"Okay. Take care," May said, and hung up. "Pepper says she and Tony are thinking about you tonight and they love you."
"Uh, thanks." He managed to smile a little easier, though. "Sorry for getting you stuck in the middle."
"Don't worry about it. Now go get dressed. We've still got to figure out that tie thing."
-==OOO==-
By the time Peter was knocking at Liz's front door, he felt, well, not any less nervous, but at least he could put everything else behind him. Tonight he was just a sophomore going to a dance with a senior girl he'd liked since the first day of freshman year. He was going to try to dance with her, and he hoped the corsage May bought went with her outfit — even if he didn't really know what that meant. Something to do with colors.
And then he'd go home with Ned and spend the whole weekend. His stuff was already at Ned's house; they'd dropped his bag off on the way. And maybe after that, maybe when next week was normal again, he could start thinking about everything else.
Liz's door opened and Peter's whole body flashed cold with terror.
"You must be Peter."
Said the Vulture. The guy behind the weapons deals. The one who had tried to kill Peter three separate times.
"Yeah," he barely squeaked out.
"I'm Liz's dad."
Peter's mind was rushing. Liz's dad, Mister Toomes, was the Vulture guy. He barely noticed shaking hands and being led into the house. All he could do was stare at Mister Toomes with his heart jackhammering in his chest.
The polishing of knives did not help, even though Peter thought distantly that Mister Toomes probably thought Peter was scared for a different reason. A much more normal reason than I'm Spider-Man and you're a villain and you tried to kill me.
Liz, when she appeared, looked beautiful, and on a normal day, Peter's brain would have shut down, probably. But now it was firing so rapidly, he could barely feel stunned. He did manage to shove the corsage at her, though.
Smiling for pictures took a literal superhuman effort on Peter's part. He couldn't decide if he was on the brink of panic or bracing himself for the fight of his life.
But Mister Toomes wouldn't attack him in front of Liz, would he?
The car ride back to school was worse than the house, even though now he was in the back seat and didn't have to look at Mister Toomes directly. But Liz was beside him and probably thought he was ridiculous with how nervous he was acting. If only she really knew.
He did try. He tried to make conversation as Mister Toomes (the Vulture) and Liz attempted to draw him out. He tried to talk about normal things, but they kept circling back into dangerous waters. Like about the internship. About Spider-Man. About the party that he left. About Washington DC.
But he knew, as soon as Mister Toomes asked Peter to stay behind for 'the dad talk.' He knew.
And his mind cleared, even though his adrenaline was still messing with everything else. He was scared, and he was bracing for the fight of his life, and he didn't have his suit, and nobody else knew. But his mind was clear.
"Peter, nothing is more important than family. You saved my daughter's life. I could never forget something like that. So I'm gonna give you one chance. Are you ready? You walk through those doors, you forget any of this happened. And don't you ever, ever interfere with my business again. Because if you do, I'll kill you and everybody you love. I'll kill you dead. That's what I'll do to protect my family. Do you understand?"
Peter heard the threat. He heard the vow in Mister Toomes's words.
And he still knew what he had to do.
Because Parkers help people. That's what we do.
And the only way that May would be safe, or Ned, or Mister Stark when he was pretending to be Mister Carbonell, was if he stopped Mister Toomes one more time. The only way he could keep his own family safe was to stop the threat that had opened Liz's door.
So Peter went into the dance, and left. He ached for Liz. She really didn't deserve this. But he couldn't worry about her feelings. Not with lives in his hands. Not with Mister Toomes perfectly willing to keep his promise.
He was so caught up in getting ready to follow his phone planted in Mister Toomes's car, he got ambushed. And for the first time, Peter understood just how much the suit had protected him in a fight since he got it. When he'd been in this shirt and sweatpants before, he hadn't dealt with much worse than a purse-snatcher.
Well, besides Loki. But Loki never really hit hard enough to hurt even if he pretended to.
But whoever was here to stop Peter from Mister Toomes's crew was here to kill him. And he didn't have Mister Stark's suit to keep him from feeling the electric shocks, the cut of the metal schoolbuses, the scratch of the blacktop.
And that made him doubt, for a moment. Could he even still do this without a suit?
And then Ned.
Wonderful, brave, loyal Ned was there with the old web shooter and that gave Peter enough of an advantage to take care of the guy.
"Ned, the guy with wings is Liz's dad!"
Ned stared at him. "What?"
"Yeah, I know. I have to…" Peter stopped. Took a breath. Took a moment to think.
"Okay, here's what we're going to do," he said. "Mister Toomes is leaving town, so we have to stop him. I left my phone in his car, so you can track it. I'm going to follow him. You're going to have to call Mister Stark and tell him what's going on so the Avengers can come help. I...I'll try not to fight without them, but Mister Toomes is really serious this time. So...tell Mister Stark to come fast."
"How are you going to follow him?" Ned asked.
"I'll call you and you tell me where to go." Peter pulled his mask off and met Ned's eyes. "I'm going to be as safe as I can, but I have to do this. I need you, buddy. You in?"
Ned nodded. "I'll be in the library. And JARVIS will help, too, probably."
"He will. Thanks, Ned." And Peter threw himself into the night.
Stealing a car might not have been the best plan, but it was a plan, and since Peter didn't want to end up having to run across the suburbs all over again, he needed something besides his webs to help him. Besides, these old web shooters he'd stored at the school only had one cartridge of webs each and after that he'd be on his own. So he stole a car.
The fact that it was Flash's dad's car was really satisfying.
Now he wished he'd actually done some driving practice besides going slow with May in parking lots twice. Mister Stark and Mister Hogan and half the Avengers had all offered, but he'd been so busy…
At least he had Ned to guide him.
"Okay. I've got your phone. He just passed the GameStop on Jackson Avenue. I'm calling Mister Stark now."
Peter listened as Ned waited for the phone to connect. He couldn't pay too much attention given the whole yikes driving thing going on, but he definitely heard Ned swearing.
"What is it?"
"I got an automated message, sounds like JARVIS. I think I'm being rerouted."
Peter groaned. Mister Stark must be screening his calls again.
"Tell whoever it is that we know the identity of the Vulture guy and I need backup!" Peter gasped as he almost hit a truck and then all the cars parked on the other side of the street. "Even if it's just someone at a desk at SI, that should trigger JARVIS to take over."
"Right. Okay."
Peter tried to stretch his senses enough to pick up the other end of Ned's conversation, and he heard a familiar voice.
"Takeoff in nine minutes. Hello? Who is this?"
"Uh, Mister Happy, it's Ned. Ned Leeds."
"Kid I do not have time for your teenage drama tonight," Mister Hogan said. "Look, tell Peter to sit tight and we'll deal with whatever it is after we finish the move. Okay? Thanks."
"Did he just hang up on you?" Peter demanded.
"Yeah. Sorry. I didn't get JARVIS to help."
"Okay. Then text him. You've got a direct connection."
"I will. You're almost there. Turn right and you should be able to see it from there."
Peter shouted as he turned too tight and the car went up on its side.
"Ned, driving a car is nothing like driving in Mario Kart!" Peter yelled, jumping clear.
"Uh, duh."
"Fine. Look, just talk to JARVIS, please."
"I'm on it. But what are you going to do? Every time you fight that guy, Mister Stark gets mad at you."
"I know." And Peter did. "I'm going to try not to fight him. But he knows who I am, Ned. I gotta make sure he doesn't tell anybody or try to hurt May or something. But I'm just going to stall. Okay? Until Mister Stark and the others get here. That's all."
"Well, good luck. It's been an honor, Spider-Man."
Peter disconnected.
He made his way towards the warehouse where Mister Toomes's car was parked. He just needed to scout around and make really sure Mister Toomes wasn't going to call anybody or tell anyone about him and May right now. JARVIS would be telling the Avengers to scramble any second, so Peter knew that he wouldn't have to stall for long. Even if Mister Stark came alone in a suit, he could make the flight from the Compound to here in a flash. It would be okay.
(Later, Peter would find out that Ned got caught by a teacher and was delayed in sending the text to JARVIS by many critical minutes.)
Peter snuck in and followed his senses until he found a big open room where Mister Toomes was working at a bench.
But he hadn't missed what he passed on the way, including pictures of the Tower and blueprints of one of the smaller Quinjets. He hadn't missed that Mister Hogan was counting down the time to launch another plane full of Mister Stark's stuff bound for the Compound.
And now that he was sure of Mister Toomes's target and nobody was here yet, he definitely had to stall him. No matter what.
So he took in a deep breath and revealed himself.
"Hey!" He strode forward, counting the breaths in his chest and waiting for the crash that would mean help had arrived. "Surprised to see me?"
"Oh, hey, Pete. I didn't hear you come in."
He only partially paid attention to their conversation, still braced for the Avengers to show up. But there was something in what Mister Toomes said that made him angry enough to forget everything else.
"We build their roads and we fight all their wars and everything, but they don't care about us. We have to pick up after 'em. We have to eat their table scraps. That's how it is. I know you know what I'm talking about, Peter."
"You're wrong," Peter said. "You're completely wrong. Tony Stark cares about every single person in the world and he does everything to help them. The Avengers, they all bleed for every one of us. They fight monsters for us. I mean, yeah, having that much money isn't fair to anybody, but Mister Stark doesn't use it for himself. He uses it for all of us. Even you."
"Hmm. Interesting point, Pedro. But I guess it doesn't really matter."
"Why not?" Peter asked, his instincts blaring all of a sudden.
"Because I'm done stalling." And suddenly the Vulture wing-pack burst through a wall.
Peter evaded it easily; all his training with Loki had paid off and he was untouched when Mister Toomes began to smirk.
And then the building fell on him.
-==OOO==-
On another realm entirely, Loki's head snapped up in alarm.
-==OOO==-
Peter woke up in a nightmare.
Trapped in a series of memories that went around and around.
Uncle Ben, pinned to a tree by a car, dying.
Sandbags holding him down, crushing him in a dark room.
Helpless motionlessness in the endless dark under the control of the Mind Stone.
Darkness, crushing weight, and terror. They were his world. They filled him until he choked.
-==OOO==-
"Damn you and your self-righteous, short-sighted arrogance, Stark!" Loki began casting as quickly as he could. "If that child dies because you forced this vow of exile upon me, you will pay for his life in blood."
Loki had enough practice working with delicate magic while enraged, so it took him only moments to seek out his target and send his spirit soaring across Yggdrasil.
And yet a piece of his mind could not help but be distracted by a sudden desire to pray.
All-Mother Frigga preserve and protect you, Peter, for I cannot this time.
-==OOO==-
Peter couldn't have said how long a part of him was lost to the screaming void. Maybe it was only a few seconds. Maybe it was hours.
When he started to breathe again, every attempt at air was cut by sobs and shaking.
"Oh god." But he could hear his own voice, and that helped. It proved he was real.
And if he was real, maybe he could escape.
"Okay, ready?"
He wasn't, but if he didn't move now, he might not be able to try.
He was so scared.
With a grunt, Peter pushed as hard as he could, trying to free himself. But the beams and cement blocks piled on him only shifted before settling on his back once more.
Peter coughed and tore off his mask which was half-ruined anyway.
He pushed again, but he was pinned tight.
Panic broke over him like a tsunami.
"I'm stuck! I'm stuck! I can't move!"
Where were the Avengers? Where was Mister Stark? Weren't they coming? Wouldn't they save him?
How long had he been here?
Above him somewhere, something shifted and drove the pile even further down on his back. He could feel sharp edges cutting through his thin shirt and he could feel blood trickling from his skin.
"Please! Help! Somebody! Help me!"
He twisted and felt something cold against his sternum. There was a tug on the side of his throat.
For a moment, he was afraid he was going to suffocate, but then he remembered. It was Mister Stark's Saint Joseph medal. He'd put the watch aside, but he hadn't been able to, couldn't bear the thought of taking it off, too. It pressed against him now.
He remembered what Mister Stark...what Tony had said about it when he gave it to him: "Because it's not about the saint guy. It's about what it means from the person who gave it to you."
Other memories came back.
"You're stuck with me for life."
"Thank you for being one of the stars I can look up to."
"I've always said you're the best of us."
"I'm always proud of you, Peter."
Peter shut his eyes. The urge to panic started to recede.
He didn't have the suit. He didn't have the Avengers. If nobody was here now, nobody was coming.
Why? What if something happened to them?
What if they're waiting for me, in need of my help?
It didn't matter. For whatever reason, he had to believe he was on his own.
But Peter wasn't just the scared kid hiding from Hydra on the roof of the building anymore.
He wasn't just the kid who couldn't look a bully in the eye anymore.
"I just wanted to be like you."
"And I wanted you to be better."
The Mind Stone had chosen him. Mjolnir had chosen him. Odin and Loki had possibly adopted him. The Avengers respected him, liked him — even loved him.
Peter let out a slow breath.
"My family is counting on me. I won't let them down."
He drew in another breath, let it fill up his chest.
"I will be better. I will be better."
He shifted his arms and got his back under the center of the heaviest thing above him.
"Come on, Peter."
But that was wrong. He couldn't be Peter right now. Peter couldn't stop Mister Toomes and protect his family. Peter was still scared, still hurt, still unsure. Peter still hadn't fixed everything with Tony.
Spider-Man would have to be the hero for all of them tonight.
"Come on, Spider-Man!" he yelled. "Come on, Spider-Man!"
And the broken warehouse above him could only yield to his strength of will.
-==OOO==-
Spider-Man would have to remember to thank Loki later if he survived the night — all that training at high velocity had given him the reflexes to deal with remaining stuck to a speeding, invisible plane several thousand feet in the air while fighting off his date's dad who was, once again, trying to kill him.
But he didn't just have to think about Mister Toomes and his attempts to steal Avengers gear, which would not be good for Queens with his weapons dealing. He also had to think about the plane itself and where it was going.
And where it would land.
Spider-Man webbed up the tail of the plane as best he could and started to pull with all his might.
"Please turn! Please turn!"
He had to get it away from the city. It didn't matter if it took him into the ocean, as long as he didn't hit anybody on the way there.
With his heart in his throat, Spider-Man forced the plane down on the beach of Coney Island.
Of course, Mister Toomes just could not give up even then.
Mister Toomes hauled Spider-Man up into the air again, goring him with his talons. Spider-Man fought back, though, no matter how many times he hit the sand. But he was so tired.
He was tired and alone and he just wanted it to be over.
And then he spotted the Vulture wingsuit overloading. And now he had renewed energy because if he didn't save Mister Toomes, the man would die. He would die horribly in fire and Liz would have to live with it and Spider-Man just could not let that happen.
"Time to go home, Pete!" Mister Toomes yelled.
"I'm trying to save you!" Spider-Man yelled back.
And then the world exploded, blinding and yet more painful. Every inch of Spider-Man's skin felt like it was on fire, sand burned in his many wounds, and his ears were ringing.
But he still got up again.
He got up, and he found Mister Toomes, hurt, but alive. And he dragged him from the fire and webbed him up with some of his remaining web fluid.
Peter rubbed at his face. He was almost at his limit, but he just couldn't leave yet. Tony's stuff was strewn all over the beach, and anyone who got here before the police and the Avengers could walk off with it. It would start everything all over again. More dangerous technology in the wrong hands.
So he dragged himself, as if through cement and mud, across the debris-littered waterfront. He gathered up the spilled crates, the pieces that had fallen out during the crash. He piled them all up together near Mister Toomes so he would be easier to find.
Because Spider-Man looked out for the little guy. And that meant chasing stolen bicycles, and helping lost ladies, picking up dangerous litter on a public beach and, apparently, making sure a guy who tried to kill you wouldn't get lost in the debris.
"I suppose you want me to say thank you," Toomes said on the last trip back. "For saving me."
"No," Peter said. "I want you to be able to tell Liz you're sorry. She deserves that much."
"I guess she does."
Peter's senses blared and he had a feeling he was about to have company.
But, instead of relief, he just...he needed a minute. As much as any other time he'd stepped away from a crowd, he needed to breathe in the quiet for himself. His head was pounding and every muscle in his body hurt and he was still bleeding somewhat, and all he wanted was a minute to just...be.
So he abandoned the beach and climbed up the Cyclone.
The top of the roller-coaster felt comfortably far away from the chaos below. He sat on a cross-beam and leaned his head back.
It was over. Whatever came next, Queens was safe. The weapons were gone. The Avengers's stuff wasn't in the hands of criminals.
And Peter Parker was still Spider-Man. Even without the suit. Even without KAREN. Even without the Avengers to back him up.
He heard the familiar sound of repulsors coming close.
Peter let his eyes fall shut, and he smiled.