A Starting Point
The evening was like any other, dull, vibrant, and musky that winkled the nose of anyone who passed the manholes brimming with smoke from sewer lines. Peter was practically a reflection of the atmosphere Queens carried on this Friday evening. He whooped and flipped in the air seamlessly twisting letting gravity pull him down. With a quick push a string of webbing slashed out attaching itself to a building. People were exiting their jobs, cashing their checks, doing date nights, or falling off fifty story skyscrapers.
Today was awesome. He finally caught up on all of his assignments, nailed his Spanish presentation, and for the finale he and Ned finished building the Star Destroyer over the lunch period. No homework and with some convincing he extended his patrolling hours to an extra two hours. Not bad, not bad at all. Peter landed at the edge of a nearby building, mentally sticking his feet to the edge as he caught his breath from the adrenaline rush pumping through his pulsing veins.
"Alright Karen, got any reports you'll like to share?" He asked, walking along the edge with his arms outstretched wide.
"Police are covering an attempted robbery down sixth street?" she responded.
Peter stilled. "Give me the details, please."
"From reports, things are settling down, though there is some damage control if you're in the mood to clean." Karen said evenly.
Peter winced, fingering his web cartridges on his belt. "Not really. What about domestic disputes?"
"None."
Peter plopped down, letting his feet swing as he sat. "Huh, it really is a quiet evening, isn't Karen?"
"Is that not a good thing?" His friend asked.
"What! I mean yeah that's a good thing. It's a very good thing. I'm just saying I finally convinced May to let me out longer and I come out and nothing's happening. It's… its boring. Does that make sense?"
If Karen could nod she would be. "Your behaviour is natural, Peter. You just want to help, so do I. My purpose is to aid when asked. It's… as you say boring. We could try moving to different districts if you'd like?"
Peter nodded, glancing at the round evening sun. Yeah, that actually sounded like something he could do. Expand his horizons right? "That's a great idea. What do you say about visiting our neighboring district?"
"I believe the saying I'm looking for is 'let's get the show on the road.'"
Peter laughed loudly, the sound carrying backward and forward. "Karen did I mention that I enjoy talking to you."
Karen's laugh was robotic. "I enjoy our conversations as well, very, very much, Peter."
He could feel that this patrol was going to be great.
oOo
He jinxed it. He jinxed it so bad. He's an idiot, an enhanced idiot. His spider sense blared sharply letting his body bend back away from the crowbar that threatened to slice his head off. Patrol was going good, they moved districts, expanded their horizons, got a couple of crimes in today's pocket, and he still had four hours left of patrol. He dodged a punch aimed at his midsection rolling away and shot a web at the man's face.
Okay, going in a warehouse single handedly with over twenty men armed to the teeth was probably not a good idea. Oh who was he kidding, it is a terrible idea. Good thing is that he webbed the package that was supposed to be exchanged during this deal on one of the rafters above them high into the ceiling. He didn't know exactly what was in the suitcase, but a thermal scan from Karen confirmed it as nothing but a hard drive. The intel was probably worth the black eye and other bruises that will paint itself all over his back later today.
He easily webbed two of the men's weapons away from their grip and kicked them to the wall securing them with webbing. Two down eighteen more to go. From quick glances that he managed to get the men looked like they're from two sides in two different uniforms. He filed that information later as he slid away from the rampage of bullets that sliced the air and cracked the cement wall behind him. He needed to stop getting stuck in his head or he would go home with something worse than a black eye.
Peter squared his shoulders as one of the men went one on one with him. He leaned to the left missing the arm charging toward his head and grabbed it, twisting it behind the man's back before shoving him to the ground. He clicked his web shooter sealing the man's freedom and refocused on the rest. Guns fired, men growled and spat, while he dodged left and right taking down one after another. HIs energy stayed firm and his instinct cried as a deranged man came hurling towards him.
Peter just stood there, sighing before raising his wrists and shot a web grenade. The man was pinned to the ground. "Well that was stupid."
Less than five men to go, before his senses buzzed and a car bursted through the warehouse walls and six more men rushed out with automatics. The suit's lenses widened. Not good. Why does every bad guy have their hair slicked back? Like seriously do they just spend their money on hair gel?
"Get that suitcase now!" One of the men screamed. Two men separated from the group heading up to a construction ladder nearby.
Karen was busy outlining the body motions and recording, dropping alerts and keeping him aware of the webbing left in his web shooter.
Rule number one of crime fighting: make sure you stocked up on ammunition. A rule he needs to start following. Peter webbed two guys and tugging them toward each other, cringing as their heads slammed into one another. He shot a web at the ladder the men were climbing and pulled hard watching it tumble to the ground with a loud clang. The henchmen yelled out and rolled on the floor dazed.
"Peter, web fluid at fifteen percent. Refill is advised. Would you like me to get assistance?"
Peter grunted in effort as he flipped over another male kicking him behind the knees. "What?" He looked down at his web shooters where his HUD showed his levels like a phone battery. "Shoot!"
"Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark." Karen asked politely.
Peter gritted his teeth together already feeling his suit tightened from the sweat accumulating under the tight fabric. "No, I got this."
His A.I paused. "You sure? I'm detecting four other identical SUVs heading our way."
He really jinxed it this time. "Great just what I need."
"But you wanted a fight?"
Peter punched a guy enough to knock him out covering him in webs. "I wanted to help old ladies cross the street, Karen. Not go toe to toe with the Mafia mob or whatever. I mean seriously what is on that hard drive?!"
There was a hesitant pause. "The Mafia is not the worst assumption, though. Crimes have been rising from gang wars in all districts. Police reports suggesting the movement of the activity could be traced back to the Mafia, though no official evidence has been found."
"Huh?" Peter looked at the case webbed to the roof. "Maybe until now. I bet my life savings, the hard drive is the solid evidence that's been missing."
"So sixty-three dollars and thirty cents?"
"Don't get snapping." He smiled, but it dropped when his hearing caught the shrill screeching of tires before the remaining wall the previous car barreled through was knocked down as four black SUVs geared forward.
Peter groaned. "Why is everything black? I get black goes with everything, but why not pink or indigo? Anything but black!"
"Would you like that assistance now, Peter?" Peter wanted to growl out a no, but the A.I's tone had a sense of urgency. And as the number of men continued pouring out he released a stressed breath. With three web refills left, he had to make a choice.
"I am never going to hear the end of this either way will I?"
Karen offered no support. "Not likely, but at least you'll be alive."
Peter threw his head back. "Noted. Fine, but I still think I can handle this."
"Mr. Stark has been contacted, and I believe you Peter, but I'm programmed for your safety and wellbeing." She said. "I also believe you don't want another repeat of the Ferry Incident, correct?"
Peter dodged the first wave, sticking to the wall, giving the needed seconds to pop out the empty cartridges and replacing them effortless. "Why would you bring that up?"
He shot the suitcase with another layer of webbing before turning his attention back to the henchmen growling with his death. "Alright boys, how good are you at dancing?"
He got some hits, a punch that was reinforced with a brass nut across his cheek, a hit to the leg from a crow bar, and other cuts and bruises he knows his Aunt will hiss at. He was surrounded, but before another could make another move Peter heard the sound of repulsors and he couldn't wipe the smile that stretched on his face.
The man himself bursted through the window with his arms outstretched keeping him steady. "Looks like quite the party, kid. Mind telling me about the late invite?"
He shrugged. "Figured you'd like to crash through the window when an entire wall was demolished for you." He webbed another guy without taking his eyes off his mentor.
"Speaking like a true prophet, kid. Time to clean up the mess."
Peter saluted. "Sir yes, sir." And tossed himself back into the fight. Two more vehicles crashed the party and Peter was starting to feel the strain.
Mr. Stark flew overhead, taking down four guys with him. "Jeez, kid. What did you do?"
Peter looked up, tossing his hands up. "I don't know, but it has to do with that suitcase I webbed up behind you." The suit whirled around. He heard Mr. Stark click his tongue. "Me and Karen believe it has something to do with the Mafia, betting my life savings on it, so I better be right."
Mr. Stark laughed. "Your life savings? So all of sixty-three dollars and thirty cents?"
Peter huffed, somersaulting. "Why does everyone know how much money I have!"
He barely had enough time to dodge the crow bar that was surging toward his arm. He moved, but not fast enough as it hit right in the center of his elbow, making his vision black out for a mere second before flipping around and wrapping his legs around the guy hurtling towards him and twisting him to the ground. The pain was white, pure white as the dots swimming in his sight faded to the back of his brain. He shook his head, jostling his arm as a pained groan escaped him.
"Kid, you okay?!" His comms voiced loudly.
Peter grunted, wrapping a thick layer of webbing around his elbow for cushioning. "Yeah, I'm fine. Got hit with a crowbar, so I'm good. How about you? How's your day going?"
"Your way of deflecting is horrible, kid. We got to work on that. Hang tight, looks like we're onto the final act."
Peter nodded and webbed over to a couple of rafters intercepting, shooting men from above. The fight was slowing, but the pain was stubborn as well. From the reports from Karen, he broke his arm where the two joints connect, and he wasn't looking forward to the resetting the alignment later. He could feel his body working on healing it. He appreciated it, but the dread that was creeping out about it healing wrong made him work faster. He ignored the pain, dodging, kicking, and webbing the last of the men as Mr. Stark took off chasing down the strays that were trying to escape.
The warehouse was quiet with the occasional groans and moans from the trapped criminals. He walked over to one of them that was hanging off the wall. "You wanna tell me what all this was for, dude?"
The man's mouth clamped shut. Peter shrugged. "Talk, don't talk, I think that hard drive will do the talking for me, so thank you for the gift it really means a lot." He gave him a two finger salute as the man struggled harder as Peter walked away swinging carefully to the suitcase. He always carried a fun sized vial of web remover strapped to his web belt. He poured a couple of drops and watched the chemical do their stuff. The case fell into Peter's hand and he jumped down passing the men as he walked outside swinging the case back and forth, whistling a small tune.
Despite the pain throbbing fiercely in his arm, and the exhaustion that was tearing into his muscles he was pleased with the turnout. He was ready to head home though, but he couldn't keep the skip out of his step as Mr. Stark dropped a pile of men in front of him.
"Police are on their way, kid." He glanced down at the package. "That it?"
"Yep! One piece of evidence coming up." He handed the case over.
Mr. Stark removed his faceplate, hand tightening around the case. He smiled at the kid, but frowned at the arm that was hanging almost lifelessly. He locked his jaw, pointing to the injury. "Alright, here's the plan. We are going to take care of that arm, because that does not look okay, call your aunt so I don't die, and take a look at this hard drive. Sound like a plan?"
Peter was shaking as his body transitioned to a calmer state. "Yeah," He tilted his head. "Shouldn't we take it to the police though?"
"We are, but that doesn't mean I already had Friday scan the contents waiting for me to sort through back home. Really, I expected more from you honestly."
Peter smiled, shrugging. "Got to keep you on your toes right?"
Tony smiled, shaking his head. "Sure, kid." He looked at one of the nearby buildings. "Think you can make it to one of those roof's?"
Peter followed Mr.Stark's line of sight. His arm throbbed like a knife at the thought of climbing. He nodded. "I'll manage."
"Good," Tony responded carefully. "Meet me up there and I'll take you to medical after I hand this beauty to law enforcement." Lifting the case. Almost summoned, sirens blared loudly as cops parked in front of the warehouse.
Peter rolled his shoulder with a wince. "Okay."
With a huff, he scaled up the building cautiously using his momentum sparely. He sat at the edge watching as Mr. Stark corresponds with the Police Captain. The case was passed over as a couple of officers loaded it into a trunk. His chest heaved softly, his heels hitting the brick wall. Arrests were made and bigger police vehicles drove in to carry in the bigger mob of criminals. Peter laughed as the officers struggled to remove the henchmen from the wall. He used the last of his webbing to make a cast for his arm. Biting his lips as he slowly bent it into a rest position, swallowing down the urge to take off his mask and throw up.
He heard Mr. Stark land hard behind him, the joints hissing as his mentor leaned down next to him. "Show me."
Peter leaned back, letting Tony grab his shoulder. "Friday give me a scan."
Peter hissed when he applied to much pressure. Tony held back wincing with the kid. "Yeah, I know, hurts like no tomorrow. Want the good news or the bad news?"
Tony waited as the kid debated. "Good."
The man repositioned himself. "Well the break was clean, though there is a small portion of the bone that's shattered, but Friday shows that's on the mend properly. Won't need surgery as your healing is taking care of that. My guess is that in two to three days tops you'll be as good as new."
Peter smiled, but Tony could see it was painful. Broken bones are not a picnic. "Okay, now give me the bad news."
"Bad news is that you're grounded for two to three days."
"What?! Why?" Peter asked, jostling his arm hard. "Ow!"
"Maybe it's because the last thing I need is to see Spiderman fighting cops and robbers on the news with an arm in a web cast." Tony responded. "Give me some of your webs."
Peter shot a sheet of web and handed it to his mentor. "Oh come on! It's the weekend."
Tony smirked, spraying some of the ice crystals stored in his suit into a round ball. He wrapped it in the web Peter gave him, sticking it to the cast. The boy immediately gave a sigh of relief at the cool sensation. "Which is the perfect time to go have fun with your friend Ted, go out with your girlfriend Mj, or play legos or whatever it is you do."
"First of all, it's Ned, not Ted. Second, she's not my girlfriend and you know it. And lastly, I like to go on patrol. That's what I like to do, Mr. Stark." Peter answered. The pain in his arm was dampening his resolve, and the exhaustion weighing him down to the ground. But he's on a roll. "Does it have to be that many days."
Tony sat down next to him. "I can make it four if you'd like."
Peter glared at him. "Not funny."
"Oh, it is." Tony said, glancing at the sky. He grunted as he stumbled up. "Come on kid, let's get your arm taken care of. Don't need your aunt hounding me."
Peter stood up carefully. "We're going to the Compound?"
"No," he shook his head. "We are heading to the Medical Station a couple of blocks from here."
Peter's eyes widened. "The one you just recently built?"
The faceplate slapped on. "Yep, now grab on kid."
Tony enjoyed the kid's expression as he took a few steps back, laughing nervously. "Look I may be down an arm, but I can still swing, Mr. Stark. I'm fine."
"Too bad, I wasn't asking." The boy gaped, as Tony wrapped his arms around the kid, careful of his arm and lifted off.
'Mr. Stark, this is a bad id… Woah!"
Tony could only laugh.
oOo
The medical station was small, inconvenient among the public, but perfect for a teenager who has superpowers. Tony wouldn't admit it, but the station was constructed just in case the Compound was too far out of a journey, which of course it is. The incident at Homecoming proved that. If the circumstances were different from Queens to the Compound Tony didn't think the kid could make a trip that far if critically injured. So with some money here and some money there he built the station. It turned out okay, considerably.
Tony went to the roof where the kid was sitting with his new realigned arm that was in a medical approved cast. The kid was dressed back into his school clothes after Tony went back after dropping the kid off to find his backpack. The billionaire slipped his hands in his pockets. "You know kid, you really have a thing with roofs."
Peter turned around to the source. "The view relaxes me."
Tony couldn't blame him. Queens was a sight when the sun angled perfectly. Tony handed the kid a water bottle, who took it gratefully. The boy was in a Midtown sweatshirt, with his faded blue jeans with a large hole on one of his knees. Tony suddenly had an itch to buy the kid some new jeans, or a new closet full of clothes, but that was the money talking deep in his pant pocket.
Peter paused, rubbing his hand over his knees, looking down at the roads below them. "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry if you were busy."
The man waved him off. "I wasn't doing anything important. Caught me in a boring moment when you alerted me. So it should be me who should thank you before Pepper found me and shipped me off to another meeting or something."
The boy laughed softly. The moment eased into an awkward silence as the other determined where to go next among each other. Peter tapped his knee cap to a beat only he knew. Tony took a breath in his head and laid a hand on the kid's injured shoulder.
"I'm going to rip the bandaid with this one kid. You did good. I know calling for assistance isn't like winning an Oscar, especially if it's me." He signed. "Where we started in the beginning was terrible." Peter stayed silent, so Tony assumed he was doing something right. "Taking you to Germany was definitely not one of my finest moments, and I know this whole mentor and mentee thing is a whole zig zag maze right now, but what happened today it's a start. Kid you're going to fail big time." He ignored the pointed look the kid gave him. "But unfortunately, so am I. Ironman and Spiderman is all Queens has right now. Literally. And I'm dragging this on. My point being if you want I'm willing to start over. Today could be our secondary respawn moment…"
"I would like that, Mr. Stark." the kid cut him off.
Tony blinked, clapping his hands together. "You sure, kid, because I've been known to make kids cry."
Peter smiled, his features relaxing completely. "Yeah, I'm sure. But to be honest, I don't want to forget the past. I'm perfectly fine with where we are, Mr. Stark, but yeah, as hard as it is to say this, I really enjoy being your student. When you took away the suit…"
Tony cringed, but Peter continued forcing the words out. "I realized that I had a lot to learn. Not the punch and dodge type of stuff, no, but what it means and takes to be a real hero."
Tony shook his head. "Think you're confusing me with some other hero kid."
Peter stayed firm. "Believe me, Mr. Stark. You would know if I was confusing someone else for you, but I'm not. Your right about one thing. I'm going to mess up, bad. Everyday mostly likely, or once a week depends on how I'm feeling."
Tony raised his hands up. "Alright kid, I get the message, you're a troublemaker, what else is new."
Peter smiled, but it disappeared as a mask settled over his face. A face Tony couldn't quite read. "But I only ask for one thing, Mr. Stark."
"Name it."
"Will you be there to show me where I go wrong?" The boy asked.
Tony was stunned. That one sentence contained more than one meaning, and shockingly Tony could see every one of them.
Will you be there if I fail?
Will you show me how to fix it?
Will you see me as the hero you hope you see or a kid?
Will you be the mentor I need?
Can you be the teacher I need?
Will you be there to show me where I go wrong?
Tony looked down at the city below, cars honking harshly, and the voice of chatter condescending to the roof they sat on. He looked at the kid, who for a moment didn't look like a kid at all, but someone else entirely.
He wrapped his arm around the kid's shoulder giving them a soft pat. Breaking the cycle of shame was almost impossible, but almost is something Tony could work with. Something he could try and focus on. He just never thought until this moment that all he needed was a reason, a true reason that couldn't afford to be left behind; the kid. He forced the hurricane of unneeded emotions down hard.Settling himself down mentally. He knew from now on he'll be in the long haul, one he soon learn he doesn't mind. Howard was a starting point for Tony, but not the he wished for. Now he guessed it was his turn now.
Tony smiled. "Yeah, kid. I'll show you."
A/N: I have no excuses, but I am back. Finally came up with an idea that could actually end. If you have any requests let me know, please. I have only like two other ideas before I'm blank again.
Stay Covid Free!
