It was dark and bright, and loud. Peter sat on a bench, people milled past him, laughing, smiling, oblivious to his pain. The familiar sound of merry go round music and bells and whistles that usually accompanied Coney Island all merged into one cacophony of white noise. Peter didn't hear it. He just sat, staring off into space.
A few people passing by gave him worried looks, but no one thought it was their business to ask if he was okay. Either that or no one cared. Peter felt invisible here. Who would look for him here?
He had just lost his uncle, his last blood relation, there was no one to take care of him now. He was on his own. His uncle had been married, but only just this year. Peter remembered the wedding, it was the last truly happy moment that he remembered. It had been a good day for Peter, and despite having to wear a mask because of his weakened immune system, Peter had not stopped smiling the whole day. Ben's bride, May, was gorgeous in her long white gown. Peter had danced with his mom. The single men had lifted him up on their shoulders so he could catch the garter. He ate until he felt sick. It was a good day, his last good day.
Peter had had plenty of time to process his parent's death. That's pretty much all he had was time, locked up in that apartment for months on end, but all the grief came crashing back to ambush him now. He wasn't crying though. His eyes were sore, probably red, but he wasn't crying, not right now. It was all he could do to try and process everything that had happened.
"Hey," a soft voice called out. "You okay?"
Peter turned his zombie-like gaze to a girl on the bench beside him. She looked about his age with dark skin and messy hair. She looked rough, about as rough as he felt. In her hand was a book, he couldn't… or didn't want to read the title, but it was thick and looked more educational and adult than someone her age should be reading.
He didn't answer her, but turned to look straight ahead again.
"Do… do you want me to call someone?" she asked, uncomfortable, but… kind.
"No one to call," Peter admitted. He had lost everyone. He was an orphan all over again. He was alone.
"Yeah, I get that," she said. Taking it in stride. "No one wants me home either."
Home. That sounded like a nice word. Peter didn't remember having a home. A hospital wasn't a home. Those apartments hadn't been home.
"What is home?" Peter asked.
The girl shrugged. "Home is where you sleep."
Peter shook his head. "No," he said simply.
"Okay…" she said thoughtfully, although he hadn't offered a counter argument. "Home is where you feel safe."
Peter chuckled humorlessly. "I don't have a home then."
She didn't seem to have a response to that.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Michelle," she said.
Peter didn't offer his name. Michelle didn't ask.
He glanced at her, whatever fog he had been in seemed to be lifting, perhaps thanks to the conversation. He glanced down at the book in her lap, her thumb held her place.
"Strange place to read," he offered.
"It's quiet," Michelle said.
It wasn't… it really wasn't. It was loud… so loud… but loudness could be a quiet of its own. Peter understood that, so he just nodded.
He stood up and began walking away. He couldn't stay in any one place too long.
"Where are you going?" Michelle asked, was that concern in her voice.
Peter stopped. "Home," he answered. Partially because he didn't want her asking more questions, partially because it was true.
He didn't have a home now, not really. No place to rest his head. But he had Spider Man. Under the mask no one could touch him. Under the mask he was a hero, but also invisible. Under the mask he could be the person he was always meant to be. Under the mask he was safe.
Tony waited near the back. Not wanting to intrude on the private ceremony. People passed by to comfort the grieving widow as they left the church until only May Parker was left, wiping at tears. He followed her into the foyer where she struggled to get her jacket on.
He stepped in, holding it for her. She startled slightly, but then smiled her 'thanks.'
"No one to drive you home?" he asked.
"No, it's just me… Mr…?" She didn't recognize him then.
"Stark… Tony Stark," her eyes widened then as he took off his sunglasses so she could see his face better.
"Oh," she said surprised.
"I'm not hitting on you," Tony assured. "I was a friend of the Parkers."
May nodded. "Yes… I," she took a deep breath to compose herself. "I remember Peter talking about you."
Tony smiled sadly. "I'm sorry I missed the other funerals," he winced. Just what the grieving woman needed, a reminder of all she had lost.
"I've seen the news," May assured. "Ben and I knew you had your hands full."
"Can I give you a ride home?" Tony asked, glancing out at the rain.
May hesitated, but then nodded. Happy waited outside with a large umbrella. May smiled her thanks at him as he held the car door open for her. Tony slid in beside her.
"Wow…" she commented, looking around. "This is nice."
After Happy new where they were going, they sat in silence.
"So," May broke the silence a few blocks later. "What do you want to know?"
Tony winced. "I'm sorry?" he asked.
"You didn't come here just to comfort a grieving widow," she said. "Especially of someone you didn't even know."
Tony's mouth opened and closed. "I do wish I could have done more, for the Parkers. Pete… he was a special kid."
May nodded. "I didn't know him that well. Ben adored him."
"Did he tell you I called him?" Tony asked.
May sighed and shrugged. "He didn't tell me much the last few months. Nothing about this apartment, where he would disappear too, why we suddenly had to have a VERY tight budget."
"What did he tell you?" Tony asked.
"That he was doing something important," May responded. "That I would understand if I knew… but that he couldn't tell me because it wasn't safe."
"Were you scared?" Tony asked.
May shook her head. "Angry really. I wish he had let me help."
"So you don't buy the police's theory that he was…" Tony trailed off. It seemed rude to throw into her face the obvious answer of an extramarital affair or some other sort of illegal activity.
May shook her head. "No, I never doubted him, not for a second. He was a good man."
"Did they tell you that I was there?" Tony asked.
May nodded. "They told me you helped fight the people that were attacking him, but that he died in an alley… alone."
Tony shook his head. "Spider Man was with him."
May's eyes widened. "Spider Man?" she asked. The vigilante was new to the city, but very popular already.
Tony nodded. "He got him out of there, I think he was trying to save him, but he wasn't alone when he died, May."
May smiled at that, tears pooling in her eyes. Something that sounded like a laugh and a sob burst out. "Thank you… that… that helps."
Tony nodded.
"Would Ben have done this for just anyone?" Tony asked.
May thought about that. "He was always extremely generous, but no… I don't think so. I'd like to believe that he wouldn't just throw our life away for a random stranger on the street."
"So he knew this person," Tony asked.
May suddenly seemed nervous. "Why are you asking all these things?"
Tony took a breath. "I think he was helping Spider Man." He ignored her gasp of surprise. "Think about it, he started acting strangely shortly before Spider Man showed up. Richard and Mary's research also involved spiders, and Spider Man was in the apartment when I arrived."
May though carefully about all that he told her. "So what do you want with Spider Man?" she asked.
"To help," Tony assured.
"Why?" she asked. "What do you get out of it?"
"A new ally, hopefully, and satisfaction to my curiosity." It wasn't a lie, not exactly, but he felt even more motivated than that. There was something special about this kid and Tony aimed to figure it out. Somehow he also felt like he was doing this for Peter, or at least Mary and Richard.
"It was someone he knew," May answered, drawing Tony away from his thoughts. "He said I knew him too," she offered. "But as much as I tried to think about who it could be, I never could figure it out. Now I'm even more confused."
Tony nodded. It was something… but not much.
"He was too strong!" Stromm protested. "We couldn't get close enough to even inject the sedative, and he has Iron Man helping him."
Norman leaned over his desk. "We'll have to think of something else then…"
"Like what?" Stromm asked.
Norman held up a vial of green liquid. "Maybe, too catch a freak… we need to create a freak."