WING-MAN
For the first time in months, Carol was back on Earth. And for a change, she was trying to relax and enjoy the experience. That included taking time to visit people who she normally only saw on battlefields or at funerals.
At the moment, Carol and Pepper were at the Stark acreage, having a drink. Honestly, it was a surprise to both of them how much they'd come to enjoy each other's company. It certainly seemed as if they otherwise had little in common.
They were sitting at the picnic table on the patio behind the house. It was a lovely Spring afternoon. At the shore of a small lake not too far from the house, Morgan was happily splashing in the water. A pair of German Shepherds were with her - both enjoying the water and keeping an eye on Morgan.
"By the way, how's Peter doing?" Carol asked as she casually swirled the light red wine in her glass.
"Who?" Pepper replied after a puzzled pause.
Carol blinked in surprise. But then she tried again.
"Peter Parker?" Carol repeated. "the kid from Queens? You know... Spider-Man?"
And the youngster who had been Tony's protege and friend, Carol almost added. But stopped herself in time.
"Spider-Man?" Pepper repeated with a frown. "Is that who he really is? Peter Parker? When did you find that out?"
Carol stared at Pepper.
Except for the battle against Thanos and then Tony's funeral, Carol had seen little of her home-world for quite a few years. After so long, Carol had decided it was time she returned as something other than an avenging angel.
Honestly, Carol continued to be surprised by the changes that had happened over the years. Her country - and the world - was a different place. And as someone who'd fought against the status-quo, she was uncomfortably aware that whoever had said "be careful what you wish for, you just might get it" had a point. Change, no matter how welcome or necessary, never neatly stops where you expected.
It occurred to Carol that maybe she should talk to Steve Rogers. If anyone would have some insight on how she was feeling, it was him. But Steve had vanished and that was impossible.
However, her more prosaic concerns were now overwhelmed by the fact that everyone had apparently forgotten about Peter Parker. Which made no sense at all.
After some thought, Carol decided to talk with someone who wasn't exactly a friend, but had access to both official and unofficial sources. She might be able to help.
Maria Hill looked at a computer monitor and frowned thoughtfully.
"Is this him?" Maria said as she turned the monitor around so Carol could see it. A smiling image of Peter Parker looked out at them.
"That's him," Carol confirmed. "How old is this picture? He looks even younger than the last time I saw him."
Maria shrugged as she turned the screen back to face her, clicked on the keyboard, and examined the new display even more closely.
"That was taken for his high school ID, but he's college age now," Maria began. "Otherwise, we don't have much on him - not even a driver's license. He's from Queens and went to an advanced high school for gifted students. He was blipped, but according to his school, he didn't seem to have any problems readjusting after his return. However, his grades eventually fell off and he didn't go to college. He has an apartment in Manhattan. He's been working odd jobs as a photographer and I have no idea how he can afford that apartment. The only thing about him that fits into the superhero end of things is that the woman who was his aunt and guardian was recently killed in a fight involving super-villains. Her name was May Parker and she was collateral damage in a battle between Spider-Man and some bad-guys we've never seen before - or since. So there is a Spider-Man connection to Mr. Parker."
Then Maria pursed her lips thoughtfully as she continued to scan the monitor. "Wait... there's more. May Parker ran a program that helped feed the homeless. Spider-Man put in appearances at fund-raisers for the organization. Mrs. Parker also showed up on a routine security check. She was apparently seeing a gentleman named Harold Hogan."
"Who?" Carol asked. It struck her as vaguely funny that she was the one asking that question for a change.
"One of Tony Stark's employees," Maria explained. "Most people call him "Happy Hogan". He started as a chauffeur for Stark but ended up as an Asset Manager for Stark Industries. He was apparently friends with Tony and Pepper. He was at Tony's funeral, but I suppose you weren't introduced."
Carol nodded slowly. It was possible that Pepper didn't know about the Peter-May-Hogan connection, but that seemed unlikely.
What the hell was going on?
"Why are you curious about Mr. Parker?" Maria asked. "Is he someone that SHIELD should be looking into?"
Carol considered Maria's question. No matter what, she'd just put Peter Parker on SHIELD's radar.
But was that good or bad?
"He was caught in the middle during the fight against Thanos," Carol answered carefully. "Let me keep checking on him. I'll let you know if I find anything."
That was a non-answer, of course. And Maria knew it.
But Maria just nodded and let it go. She and her boss had always cut Carol a lot of slack.
Sam and Bucky knew Spider-Man - hell, they fought him at the Berlin airport - but they gave Carol blank looks when she asked about Peter Parker.
Okay, that was reasonable. It wasn't like people exchanged personal information with the people they were punching.
As for the others...
Cap was MIA. Thor was off-world. Tony and Natasha and T'Challa were dead. Clint was retired and trying to steer clear of the super-world. Doctor Strange wasn't answering his phone or doorbell. And everyone else was scattered to the four winds.
That left Bruce.
"I've never heard of him," was Bruce's perhaps inevitable response.
Carol let out a long breath. Yes, it was possible that Tony had kept Peter's secret ID more secret than Carol thought possible, but was this reasonable? Even from Pepper, SHIELD, and the earth-bound members of the Avengers?
"Look, Carol. Don't get mad," Bruce said carefully, "but could you be mistaken? I mean, you came back from outer-space and jumped right into that last big fight with Thanos. That was the first time you met Spider-Man and everything was going crazy..."
Carol shook her head. "I saw him without his mask. We all did at Stark's funeral. SHIELD has a school photo of him. Hell, I even talked to him. When I flew him home after the fight with Thanos, I dropped him off on the roof of what turned out to be May Parker's apartment building. We spoke for a while."
Bruce nodded, but his eyes were still filled with doubt.
"Have you tried visiting this Parker fellow?" Bruce asked.
Carol hesitated before replying.
"No. I mean, I suppose I should..." Carol said awkwardly. Then she paused before going on.
"Maybe I'm scared," she finished.
"Worried that you might be wrong after all?" Bruce speculated.
Carol sighed and shook her head. "I don't want to look into the mirror and wonder if a crazy person is looking back at me."
Bruce patted her shoulder with a massive green hand. "We both know you're going to go see him."
Peter Parker's apartment was a hole-in-the-wall in a run-down Manhattan neighborhood. But Carol took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Peter opened the door - and then froze when he saw Carol.
He looked different. Older and more tired. With a pang, Carol realized that she was looking at someone who'd lost almost everything. He wasn't the boy, frantically clutching that damned gauntlet, that she'd pulled out from underneath a pile of monsters in the ruins of the Avengers compound. He'd seen a lot since then.
Maybe too much.
Not even sure why, Carol decided to rely on the past to find a way to start the conversation.
"Hello, Peter Parker," she said with a trace of a smile. "Do you have something for me?"
"You remember..." Peter said in a startled near-whisper.
"And it looks like I'm the only one," Carol added. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"
Sitting in a battered wooden chair that she suspected Peter had scavenged from a dumpster, Carol watched as Peter used a hot-plate to make a pot of tea. The cup he put in front of her was chipped. His own was made of faded plastic. He apparently didn't have any sugar to offer.
Then Peter told her what had happened. It took some time.
Carol finished off her tea and said, "It really sounds like Stephen Strange is an irresponsible ass."
Peter shrugged helplessly. "He did what I asked him to do. And then I interrupted his spell. This is on me, not him."
Carol wasn't so sure about that, but she decided to let it go.
"So nobody knows you?" Carol asked. "Nobody at all?"
Peter just nodded. "I made a point of bumping into people from my school. Also my neighbors from when I lived with Aunt May. They didn't recognize me. And God knows the authorities should want to talk with me, but nothing's happened there."
"The Avengers?" Carol asked - even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.
Peter shook his head. "If you're just somebody on the street, it's hard to contact any of them. I saw Sam Wilson at an event and even said hello to him, but he didn't know me from anyone else. I did see Happy Hogan - he worked for Tony and we knew each other - but he didn't recognize me. I knocked on Dr. Strange's door, and he actually answered, but I could see in his eyes that he didn't know who I was. So I pretended to be someone trying to sell magazine subscriptions and walked away."
"Family?"
Peter hesitated and Carol saw the pain in his eyes.
"I really don't have any family - just some cousins I haven't seen in years."
Then Peter asked the inevitable good question. "So why do you recognize me?"
Carol was about to shrug helplessly, but then she stopped herself. "When I became Captain Marvel that involved an Infinity Stone. Maybe Strange's spell didn't have the horsepower to beat that."
Peter frowned but said nothing.
Then Carol asked another question. "Do you want me to put you in contact with the other Avengers? I can vouch for you."
Peter immediately shook his head. "I found out the hard way that a secret identity is a good idea. Otherwise, people who know me might get hurt. So let's keep things the way they are."
After a moment, Carol took a long look around Peter's bleak little apartment - and the tiny corner of it the apartment manager called a "kitchenette". There was a small pile of noodle packages stacked up in a cardboard box next to the sink. A Big Mac wrapper was crumpled up on the counter.
Carol sighed.
"When's the last time you had a meal that wasn't Ramen or McDonalds?" she asked.
There was a humble-looking Italian place just around the corner from Peter's apartment. They served a shockingly good pizza and Carol made a mental note to ask Peter for 'cheap but good' restaurant advice whenever she was in town.
Peter ate his half so quickly that Carol found herself wondering if he was eating regularly. Carol finished a slice and then asked for a box for the rest. She'd make sure Peter took it home with him.
And that wasn't going to be enough. Peter was in trouble. Carol had seen it before - men and women who had risked it all for others and were then left with nothing. She'd known too many former soldiers who ended up like that.
Carol pulled an old-fashioned money-clip out of her jacket pocket and put it on the table. "I want you to have this. And don't complain. Call it a consultant's fee for your time with the Avengers. And you can pay me back once you get back on your feet."
Peter raised an eyebrow as he looked dubiously at the money clip. "How much is that?"
"About five thousand dollars. I converted a few gold coins to cash when I got back to Earth. I think I was ripped off, but I didn't have a lot of options."
Then Carol smiled bitterly. "You've already found out that being a superhero - and few dollars - will buy you a cup of coffee."
Peter suddenly frowned. "Wait... is this all the money you have?"
Carol considered lying, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do that.
"Yes, but I'll be fine."
"Where are you living? Do you have a place to stay?" Peter persisted.
Carol smiled. "Peter, I can fly through space, remember? I could go north and bed down on an iceberg if I wanted to and I'd be just fine. Or even find a nice piece of orbital debris and enjoy the view before going to sleep. Over the last few years, I've slept in palaces and caves. I guess you could say that I'm a space-hobo."
They went back to Peter's apartment and spent hours talking. It shocked Carol when she realized how much she enjoyed finally having someone to talk to about the strange world of being a super-hero.
It sounded like Peter was still in the hero business, but he was now more street-oriented than before. He was spending more time stopping robberies and helping old folks cross the street than fighting villains who had strange costumes and bizarre powers. It occurred to Carol that it was a better fit for him.
When Carol finally tried to leave, Peter wouldn't let her. For a moment, Carol thought Peter was trying to seduce her. But actually, he was just mortally offended by the thought of a friend not having a roof over her head. And while Peter's couch was small and tattered, Carol fit onto it comfortably. However, she did draw the line when Pete offered her what looked like his only blanket.
Peter went into the bathroom and changed into a pair of pajama bottoms. Meanwhile Carol took the opportunity to strip down to her blouse - it was long enough to make a reasonable night-shirt.
Before Peter turned off the lights, there was an awkward moment where they tried not to obviously check each other out. Then they said goodnight and turned in.
Her hands folded behind her head, Carol stared up at the ceiling and tried not to think about how long it had been since she'd had sex with anyone but herself.
What the hell? Why was she thinking about that?
"Pete, how old are you?" she asked quietly.
"Eighteen," came a voice from the dark.
"Any girlfriends?"
"Not anymore."
Carol mentally kicked herself.
There was a pause before Peter continued. "Yeah, she forgot about me."
"Sorry," Carol said, feeling more than a little stupid.
"Thanks, but... it's okay."
Then Carol took a deep breath. "Would you like some company?"
"Aren't you company?" Pete asked. He seemed puzzled.
Carol tried not to laugh. That would hurt Peter's feelings
"Peter... I'm talking about us in bed together," Carol replied gently.
There was long moment of silence. "Uhm, really?"
Still trying not to laugh, Carol got up and took off her blouse. Some light coming through a threadbare curtain splashed over her bare body. She could hear Peter's breath catch in this throat.
"Yes, really," Carol said as she slid into Peter's way-too-small bed.
Carol took another deep breath and then shakily let it out.
Peter wasn't exactly experienced - in fact, Carol suspected that she'd taken his virginity - but he was in incredible shape and very attentive.
"Everything okay?" Peter asked. He seemed concerned.
Carol finally did laugh. "Yes, I'm fine. Hell, I'm better than fine."
She sensed Peter's nod. Turning onto her side, Carol nuzzled the side of Peter's head and put a hand over his heart. It occurred to her that she was actually an inch or two taller than him.
Something was obviously bothering Peter. Carol felt a pang as she realized that Peter actually wanted someone else in bed next to him.
"I didn't mean to..." Carol began. Then she stopped.
"What?" Peter asked.
There was no way anything she could say wouldn't hurt Peter's feelings, so Carol kissed him instead.
It had been a strenuous night - far more active than either of them had intended. It was daybreak and the apartment was rather cool as Carol decided it was time for a bath.
Peter's shower was a nozzle head that was attached to a tile wall with a bent coat-hanger. A tiny drain was surrounded by plastic mats and tiles and the shower curtain had been awkwardly wrapped around a ceiling-ring to form a shower 'wall'. Carol had seen more depressing shower facilities, but that was when she is in the Air Force and stationed in countries that almost nobody had ever heard of.
"It don't think this will work," Peter said with a frown. They were both naked and contemplating the shower.
"You ever showered with someone else?" Carol asked. She suspected that she already knew the answer.
Peter shook his head. "Not the way you're thinking. When I was a kid, my parents had me and some cousins take a bath together in one of those inflatable Micky Mouse swimming pools."
After stepping inside the curtain, Carol reached out and yanked Peter next to her. Then she began fiddling with the faucet handles. She fairly quickly got a good combination of hot and cold water. Then she grabbed a bar of soap from the top of the toilet tank.
Water cascaded over them. "It's been a while since I did something like this," Carol said as she began to soaping Peter down.
Then they kissed as water cascaded down their bodies. After the kiss broke, Peter smiled and gently wiped some stray suds away from Carol's face.
"I was on a world about 300 light-years from here," Carol continued thoughtfully. "The local people are tall and thin and have feathers. They had an Emperor and he had servants. They took care of guests like me."
"Two of them - a man and a woman - put me into a fancy bathtub that was about the size of small swimming pool. Then they washed me from head-to-toe. After they got that out of the way, it was play-time... and there was a lot of play."
"Wow..." a wide-eyed Peter replied. He really wasn't sure what to say.
"Love 'em and leave 'em," wasn't exactly Carol's preferred way to deal with lovers.
But...
While Carol didn't regret her time with Peter, there was no doubt in her mind that he was too young for her. And her space-faring life didn't exactly allow for long-term relationships. She wasn't even sure if she still knew how to do that.
Come to think of it, something similar was probably true for Peter.
So after a shower that mixed acrobatics and anti-gravity, Carol said goodbye to Peter and gave him a deep and soul-felt kiss. Then she left his apartment - and found out that Peter had stashed several hundred dollars in one of her pockets.
"Have dinner on me," read a scrawled note that was mixed in with the cash. Carol noted that Peter had rather neat handwriting for a man.
Carol chuckled as she wandered down the street. It looked like she wasn't going to have to immediately cut off her visit to Earth.
"Well, Pete, having you in my pants has been fun so far," Carol said with a shake of her head.
Carol wandered the down-town, visiting shops and museums. She'd once been assigned to Griffiss Air Force Base and she had learned a lot about the city during that time. However, a lot had changed over the years. She tried tracking down some old watering holes and a restaurant that she had loved. However, all of them were closed or under new management. That was disappointing. And it was yet another reminder to Carol of how much time had passed.
As it was, New York city was in the middle of a crime-wave. And according to what she saw on a TV in an old-fashioned bar, that had been keeping a certain friendly neighborhood Spider-Man pretty busy. Carol tried not to butt-in, but a downtown bank-robbery had turned into a hostage situation involving semi-automatic weapons and innocent bystanders.
Carol left her drink on the bar, ran out the door, and darted into an alleyway. Then she stripped down to her costume.
Carol and Peter showed up simultaneously. There was no plan. They just approached the well-armed crooks from different angles. Then they more-or-less ran into each other.
While Carol put herself between the gun-slingers and the civilians - bouncing a few bullets off her chest in the process - Peter came in from the other direction and slammed into the criminals in an impressive display of acrobatics and web-slinging. Onlookers who just seconds ago had been cowering inside storefronts and behind parked cars began cheering them on.
It was over quickly. And after securing the robbers, the two of them retreated to a nearby rooftop and watched the police show up.
"Nice going," Carol told Peter with a smile. Despite the mask, Carol could tell that Peter was also smiling.
The next thing they knew, Peter's mask was up over his lower face and they were kissing.
The both knew it was a mistake, but loneliness makes for bad decisions.
"Dammit!" Carol swore. "I left my bag and clothes right here!"
Peter nodded. "This is a bad part of town to hide your clothes and gear," he told Carol. "A lot of homeless guys are looking for something they can sell."
Carol scowled. "Sorry, but I may have to borrow some of that money back."
"That's okay," Peter said unhesitatingly. "But it's back in my apartment."
Carol nodded.
They snuck into Peter's apartment from the rooftop. Carol noticed that Peter seemed to know exactly how to avoid bumping into anyone else in the building.
Back inside, Carol said, "Can I borrow some pants and a shirt? I don't think it's a good idea to go shopping in my uniform."
"Let's see what fits," Peter said doubtfully as he opened a closet. Meanwhile, Carol began climbing out of her clothes. When Peter turned back to face her, she was already down to her underclothes.
"Umm..." Peter said as he hesitantly offered her an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
"Nothing you haven't seen already," Carol said offhandedly as she accepted the clothes.
Then she paused. Peter was mature for his age but she kept forgetting how young he was. "Sorry. Am I being too forward?"
Peter was looking somewhere just above Carol's head. "You're beautiful," he said quietly. "And I'm not really used to mostly-naked, beautiful, women. Oh, dammit, that makes me sound like a total newb, doesn't it?"
Carol had the jeans in one hand and the t-shirt in the other, but she paused before putting them on. "Like I said - nothing you haven't seen before. In fact, you've seen, touched, fondled, kissed, and licked just about everything I have to offer. You take being a lover very seriously."
Peter actually blushed and Carol thought that was adorable.
Then Carol smiled and put her borrowed clothes on the nearby kitchen counter. "Come to think of it, we have time," she said as her smile turned into a grin.
"Time for what?" Peter asked blankly.
Carol showed him.
About two hours later, they were on the sidewalk outside of Peter's apartment-building. Carol was in the clothes Peter had loaned her. Her costume was in a cheap bag thrown over her shoulder.
Peter looked skeptically at Carol's bare feet. "You really don't want to be without shoes around here."
Carol shrugged helplessly. "No choice. You have the smallest feet I've ever seen on a grown man. Besides, it's not like my hide is fragile. Stepping on bottle glass isn't exactly a problem for me."
"I'm not talking about glass," Peter replied after a pause.
Carol made a face. "Yeah, I saw some of that earlier. When did people start crapping in the streets?"
"Homelessness is a problem in the bigger cities," Peter told her ruefully. "I hear it's a lot worse in places like San Francisco."
Then he looked at a nearby convenience store. "I think they sell sandals there."
At first, the lady running the convenience store refused to let Carol inside since she was shoe-less. There was a language problem, but Peter knew enough Farsi to cobble together an excuse. It helped that Peter was a semi-regular customer.
"She is using you," the clerk told Peter sternly after he counted out a few bucks for a pair of pink flip-flops. "Find someone younger who at least has decent clothes. What happened to that cute dark girl you were with? She was more your age."
Obviously embarrassed, Peter stuttered out a response.
"Hmmph," sniffed the clerk as she glared at Carol. "I know her type. A fading beauty who now spreads her legs for any man who might be useful. And you men are always damn fools for that sort of thing. Go back to your dark beauty and beg her to take you back."
Peter beat a hasty retreat.
"You're good with languages," Carol said as she stood on the sidewalk and side-stepped into her new sandals.
"This is New York," Peter said with a shrug.
"What was the last part about? I could tell she was talking about me."
There was no way Peter could tell Carol all the details, but...
"She thinks we're not a good match."
Carol grinned. "Let me guess, I'm too old for you?"
Peter rolled his eyes and nodded.
"She's right," Carol sighed. "Pete - this has been a lot of fun. But I'm just passing through. Maybe we should part ways. I hope that doesn't hurt your feelings."
That did hurt a little bit, but Peter understood.
Carol gave Peter a kiss on his forehead and then walked away.
He watched her gently swaying form until she turned a corner and vanished.
Carol spotted Peter again just an hour-or-so later.
"I can't seem to get quit of you," she grumbled to herself.
Peter was standing across the street from a coffee-shop. He was watching the interior.
Carol approached Peter. He seemed to be watching a pretty girl who was a waitress in the shop. She was busily taking orders and filling coffee cups.
Carol nodded in the direction of the woman through the glass. "Is that her? The woman who doesn't remember you?"
Peter was silent for a long time. Then he nodded his head.
"Her name's MJ," he said.
"Have you tried talking to her?" Carol asked.
Peter shook his head. "I came close once, but I chickened out."
Carol nodded - as if that was the answer she expected. "Let's get a cup of coffee. Maybe we can strike up a conversation with her."
Peter didn't respond.
Carol slipped an arm around Peter's shoulder. "The Air Force has a phrase - it's 'wing-man'. Your wing-man is another pilot in another plane who sticks with you and covers your back so you don't get in trouble. When I got back to Earth, I found out it had gained another meaning. Now it's anyone who sticks with you in case things got tricky."
"Pete," Carol continued softly. "I've been your lover. And I'm definitely your friend. Now let's try something else - why don't you let me be your wing-man?"
Pete considered that for a moment. Then he smiled.
The old-fashioned door-bell clattered as they entered the coffee-shop.
MJ paused when she saw them. Then her eyes focused on Peter and she gave him a smile that was somehow - all at the same time - shy, uncertain, and as bright and brilliant as the sun.
Suddenly, Peter wasn't scared. It would be okay. Maybe not perfect, but okay.
After all, he had his wing-man with him.
