Having Peter gone the next day, plus May heading out to work, meant that Spencer had the apartment to himself for the day. It still surprised him, just how willing to trust him these two were. Peter had told him to have fun when he'd left, while May had actually kissed his forehead and told him "There's stuff in the fridge for sandwiches, and I'll make some dinner when I get home. You just take it easy, honey. You've had a rough few days. Relax a little."

Of course, Spencer didn't listen to her advice, no matter how sweet he found it. There was too much else that he needed to do. Without May or Peter there to talk to, or to distract him, Spencer was free to take what had happened and try and find the best way to approach it. First and foremost, he grabbed the notebook that Peter had lent him and then he set himself up in the living room with a fresh pot of coffee, an apple, and a few good pencils. Then he got to work.

The very first thing he did was try and draw what he could remember of the room he'd been in. Or, more accurately, the symbols that had been on the walls. He worked with painstaking care to try and get every detail as accurate as possible. Drawing had never really been a skill of his; to try and draw a person, capture their likeness, it was too emotional, too much a thing of the heart. Blueprints, schematics, things like that, those were things that Spencer could draw. They were different. They were thought, precision, mathematical measurements and lines that had to be just so. His brain found that so much easier to translate. These symbols, they weren't that different. The recreation of these symbols needed to be as exact as possible.

Drawing them out and then plotting them out in front of him took up quite a while. He didn't even realize when he'd missed out on lunch. Food always fell to the wayside when his brain got really engaged in something. The team had often joked that they had to have a 'Spencer handler' when he really got working just to make sure he did things like eat, sleep, and shower.

Eventually he had them all drawn out as best as he could remember – which was pretty damn good, if he said so himself – and he finally stopped long enough to make himself something to eat. Then, it was back to work again, curling up on the couch and trying to make note of everything he knew about his Unsub, everything that their profile had told them and all that Penelope had dug up on their way to the Unsub's house.

There was so much to look at, so much to try and think of, and Spencer felt like it was swirling in his head. Eventually, he had to make himself get up just to take a break from it all. If he didn't, he knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with it. So far he'd been trying to approach this like a case. It helped keep him from getting too upset about things. If this were an actual case, this was the point where Aaron – or, Emily now – would've told them all to take a step back, go get some sleep, and come at it with fresh eyes in the morning. While Spencer wasn't willing to go and get some sleep, a look at the clock told him it was close to the dinner hour, giving him something else that would take his attention away for a while. Determinedly setting his papers down, he made his way to the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later Spencer was stirring a pot on the stove when he felt something in his chest and his head. A little tug that reminded him of the feeling he got when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Like this awareness of something. As it grew stronger, Spencer was surprised to realize what it was. That – that was Peter. The presence that he'd come to catalog as the young teen in his mind. His emotions, his presence, that unique blend of emotions and energy that people carried to them. Spencer paused in his stirring to look up with. So he was… sensing people now. Recognizing them. Interesting.

He'd started stirring again by the time that Peter came walking through the door. The teen tossed his bag down two steps inside and then flung his coat over at the couch. "Dude, whatever that is, it smells freaking amazing."

"It's goulash." Spencer answered. He snuck a look at Peter over his shoulder. "You should hang your bag up so your aunt doesn't trip on it when she gets home."

Peter paused halfway to him, looking just a bit confused for a split second. "Huh? Oh!" He spun on his heel and went back to his bag, laughing along the way. "You're just as bad as Aunt May. I would've gotten it later!"

The sound Spencer made was neither agreement nor disagreement. "Dinner should be ready in another, mm, fifteen minutes, I'd estimate."

"Cool, cool." Peter hung his bag up and bounded over to the kitchen, snagging himself a glass of water and then perching on the counter right near Spencer. His eyes were sparkling and his emotions were happy and easy, a combination that made Spencer want to smile at him.

Looking up, his lips twitching a little with the urge to smile, Spencer asked "Good day?"

The way that Peter's eyes lit up was endearing. He looked every inch the excited kid in that moment. "Oh, man, it was great! You'll never guess who I got to meet today!" Without even waiting for Spencer to answer, Peter leaned forward, eyes wide. "Dr. Bruce Banner."

It was on the tip of Spencer's tongue to remind Peter that he didn't really know much about anyone in this world. What he knew about Bruce Banner was only what Peter had told him when talking about the Avengers. Otherwise, he didn't really know anything about the man. He didn't get a chance to figure out what to say, though, because Peter realized his mistake and hurried to correct it. As Spencer gathered together the ingredients to make cheap and easy biscuits, he listened to Peter rhapsodize about the brilliant mind that was Dr. Bruce Banner and just how exciting it was to meet him, and how he was "…apparently staying at the Compound now. I guess he came to check on Mr. Stark after everything went down…"

"It sounds like you had a great day." Spencer said, sliding his biscuits into the oven.

Peter beamed at him. "It was so great. Man, Spencer, you'd love it there. Those labs, they're like every science nerd's dream. All the tech you could want. Jesus, it's amazing."

It did sound pretty spectacular. Spencer got his own cup of water and cradled it in his hand as he leaned against the counter opposite of Peter. "It's been a while since I've been able to properly be in a lab." Or, a good one, at least. He'd been in plenty of labs for work related reasons. Usually they were of the homemade variety, though, and were used to make the sorts of things that could kill people.

"You know, if we went and talked to Mr. Stark, told him what was going on, I bet we could get you in to have a tour of his labs." Peter said in his most cajoling voice, which really wasn't all that impressive in Spencer's opinion. He widened his eyes, even, and tried for an innocent look. "I mean, he's always excited to have someone who can keep up with him even a little bit. I try, but I'm not that level of smart. I bet you'd be able to, though!"

Spencer cocked an eyebrow and took a small sip off his water. "I think you underestimate yourself. And overestimate me." He was smart, sure, but what Peter had told him about Tony… he had a feeling he wasn't going to compare to that level of genius. Which is why you should suck it up and agree to let him help you, he reminded himself. So of course he had to say, "I haven't changed my mind, Peter. I'm not… I don't…"

"Woah, hey." As if he somehow sensed the panic that was building up inside of Spencer, Peter quickly held his free hand out, palm extended towards Spencer. Concern flashed over his face and had him widening his eyes. "No, Spencer, it's okay. It's all right. No one's gonna pressure you into doing anything you don't wanna do. I'm sorry. It's all right."

The sight of this teenaged boy doing his damndest to try and calm Spencer down from his ridiculous panic made Spencer's stomach clench and twist with guilt. He sucked in a breath, then another. Then he rather abruptly set down his water and turned to check on his biscuits even though he knew they wouldn't be done yet. "Why don't you go ahead and get the table set? Things should be done soon."

Bless his heart, Peter didn't call him out on his rather pathetic avoidance technique. The kid was just too nice. He hopped down from the counter and went to go set the table, already chattering away as he did. "So, we made a few upgrades on my suit today. I was having a bit of trouble with the webbing getting clogged in rainy weather…"

The rest of the evening was easy. They pushed aside serious topics to delve down together in the world of science. It'd been a long time since Spencer had been able to speak with anyone who challenged him on a scientific level. Peter was amazingly adept at keeping up with Spencer, sometimes showing a bit more knowledge than Spencer did in some areas, while other times listening raptly when Spencer started to ramble on about the things he knew. The discussion of suit upgrades carried them through dinner, and as they washed dishes they got into talking about Peter's web fluid and how he made it. At one point, the dishes were abandoned when Spencer pointed out that they might be able to make a few simple improvements. Paper was grabbed from Peter's room and the two poured over formulas and equations.

They were still at it when May came home. The two looked up – Spencer's empathy and Peter's senses alerting them that she was coming – and they smiled at her as she came into the apartment. One look at the two of them and their now rather large and messy stack of papers on the kitchen table, May grinned broadly at them, some of the exhaustion that Spencer felt from her washing away a little. "Well you two look like you're having fun." She teased them as she pulled her bag off her shoulder and hung it up by the door. "Did you boys have a fun day?"

"It was great! You'll never guess who I got to meet today, May? Bruce Banner!"

It was sweet, watching the way that Peter lit up as he said this, how he bounced on his feet a little like he couldn't quite contain himself. Spencer found himself smiling and saw a matching one curving May's lips. She and Spencer exchanged a quick, amused look. "That sounds great, Peter. What's he like?"

Discreetly, Spencer nudged Peter with his elbow, encouraging the boy to go forward towards his Aunt, which he did easily enough. While the two started to talk, Spencer went over to the still warm pot of goulash and served up a bowl, snagging a few leftover biscuits from where they'd been being kept warm in the oven. Once he had all that, he brought it out to the living room where May and Peter were now sitting on the couch together.

May looked up in delighted surprise at the bowl that Spencer handed her. "You made dinner?"

A little flustered by the praise and pleasure on her face, Spencer flushed and shrugged one shoulder, backing away once she had the bowl. "It was no problem. I don't mind." He'd learned how to cook at a young age. His mother cooked sometimes, when the meds were working and the delusions weren't making her hide away in her room. But for the most part it'd just been safer for Spencer to be the one in the kitchen. After his Dad left, he'd taken over the job completely, and he'd learned how to make quite a few different things with minimal ingredients. Something that was going to come in handy here, he had a feeling, if the state of the cupboards in this apartment were anything to go by.

Spencer gathered up all their papers off the table, plus the ones he'd left in the living room, and while Peter was still talking, Spencer slipped away to the room they shared. Once there, he left the new formula they'd made for the web fluid on Peter's desk, and he took the notebook with his symbols and profile and slipped them under his mattress. The last thing he wanted was for Peter to look through those. Granted, he was a smart kid, and he definitely had an amazing mind. That didn't mean that Spencer wanted him to have to see all of this, though. He didn't need to worry himself with the type of man that the BAU had been hunting.

He'd barely let the mattress back down and had straightened himself back up when Peter joined him. The teen was bouncing a little with each step, making Spencer want to smile again. He understood having that kind of energy. His own body had an excess of it, at least compared to what he was used to. Not to mention how good it felt! No aches, no pains, no labored breathing. Spencer brought a hand up and rubbed it over his chest, amazed all over again at how it felt to physically be so young once more. To be without the aches that came with age and living the kind of life he'd led.

Peter caught the gesture and some of his cheer faded. A little furrow appeared between his brows. "You okay?"

"Hm?" Abruptly Spencer realized that he hadn't stopped rubbing at his chest. "Oh!" Embarrassment had him dropping his hand back down. "Yeah, no, I'm fine. I was just… marveling a little, I guess. It's so very odd to be in a body that doesn't carry any of the familiar aches and pains. No backache, no click in my knee, no lung damage…"

The furrow was gone from between Peter's brows; instead, they shot up towards his hairline. "Lung damage?"

"I contracted something on a case once that left quite a bit of scarring on my lungs." Spencer said easily. Habit had him omitting what exactly it was that he'd contracted. Considering the general public had no idea there'd even been an anthrax scare in his world, at least at that time, he couldn't go around telling people that he'd been hit by a weaponized strain of it. It wasn't something he often thought about, though. Of all the things that had happened to him, that had been one that had brought him pretty close to death, but it wasn't one of the ones that scared him.

"And the knee?"

"Gunshot." At the surprised and awed look on Peter's face, Spencer smiled just a little. It seemed that even kids in alternate universes appreciated stories like this. Shifting himself into a more comfortable position leaning against the edge of the bed, Spencer explained himself a little more. "My team got a little mixed up about the target our Unsub was going after. While part of the team was off protecting a man's child, I was with him at his house when the Unsub came there. He tried to shoot him and I… got in the way. I had surgery and a bit of physical therapy, and I ended up fine, but there was a small click when the weather got cold." Plus swelling when it was hot.

"Man." Shaking his head, Peter looked like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "I keep forgetting the kind of life you lead. I mean, like, I get it, I know you're from a whole different universe, but I forget that you had a life there. A job. You were an adult. Working for the FBI, I can't even begin to imagine the types of things you saw or the bad guys you met. You're like the kind of guys we see on TV shows that go out and find the bad guy each week and lock em up. Did you like your job? Was it what you always wanted to be, or did you grow up wanting to be something else?"

"There were a few things I thought about doing before I made the decision to join the BAU. I hadn't even thought about working for them until I saw a presentation by a guest speaker one time in my psychology class." The memory was a fond one. Spencer could easily remember what it was like to sit in the lecture hall and watch as the man who would become his mentor stepped up on stage and opened up a whole new world for him. "Jason Gideon spoke with my class about psychological profiling and behavioral analysis. I listened to him talk and that was it for me. I knew what I wanted to do." Jason had sought him out after the lecture, too, to come and speak with him about potentially working at the Bureau. Spencer didn't find out until later that Jason had come there specifically for him.

"So you just… you just knew?"

"Yeah." Spencer nodded his head. Then he smiled. "You will, too, Peter."

The teen shrugged at him. "The only thing I know I want to do is be Spiderman. For now, that's good enough for me." His eyes drifted around the room, obviously a bit uncomfortable with how deep the conversation seemed to be getting. Then he happened to see the clock and he jumped as if someone had poked him. "Oh, man! I gotta head out if I wanna get patrols done before curfew!"

It took a lot of effort for Spencer not to laugh. He shook his head as he moved to grab his own mask and cloak while Peter hurried to get dressed. When the teen came back out of the closet, he found Spencer ready to go and he raised his eyebrows at him, mask still held in his hand. "You're coming with me again?"

Spencer smiled at him. "I like watching you work."

He felt embarrassment sparked with pleasure that didn't come from him, though his own cheeks colored in response. He dropped his head, clearing his throat a little as he listened to Peter shuffle awkwardly. To save them both, Spencer cleared his throat and gestured towards the window. "I'll just, uh, just head on out."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's, that works. Awesome."

"Great."

Still blushing a bit, Spencer pulled the mask on, checked for any civilians nearby, and made his way out the window for another night of Spiderman watching.

That day seemed to set the theme for the rest of the week. The trio fell into an easy routine that Spencer was surprised to find was quite comfortable. Since it was the end of summer vacation, with school just a month away, Peter was getting in as much time with his internship as possible. From what Spencer was able to gather, that was only a little bit of lab time, plus some training, plus a few outings that Peter said were to 'talk about things' but Spencer thought sounded like nice little family trips. He refrained from teasing the teen, though.

With May also working, it left Spencer free to spend the day trying to work his own case. The first few days were spent documenting everything he could remember. Then, from there he tried to do some research. To do that, he had to either use Peter's laptop – which he wasn't entirely sure he trusted to not be monitored by Mr. Stark, especially after hearing all about the electronic monitoring the man did through the suit – or brave going out into the world and down to the library. It was really an easy choice to make. Though, without bus fare, the walk to and from the library was almost forty-five minutes, not exactly all that fun. Especially since it put him out in public, around tons of people and their emotions. Trying to ignore them as well as all the electricity that was present in the city was enough to leave him with a headache by the time he got back home. On the plus side, it did wonders for helping him to learn how to shield himself.

Spencer fell into the routine of breakfast each morning with either just Peter, or Peter and May, and then everyone split for their days, with Spencer the first one to return home. He continued the tradition of making them dinner. There really wasn't much in the way of groceries and he had the experience at stretching food as far as it could go.

After dinner, once May was set up with her shows, the two boys went out together on their nightly patrols. Spencer never had to step in or do anything. From a distance, he watched Peter's back, ready to step in if need be. He never had to, though. Peter was good at what he did. He was amazing to watch, and ridiculous to listen to. Even when fighting crime the kid couldn't stop his weird humor and need to talk. It had Spencer rolling his eyes more than once.

It wasn't until Saturday, a week and a half since Spencer had first landed in this world, that something happened to finally break the little bubble of peace that surrounded them.

They were out on patrol when it happened. Later, Spencer would curse himself for getting so relaxed. For letting his guard down. He was so used to Peter just handling whatever came his way that he didn't realize right away that something was wrong. He wasn't close enough to be able to hear Peter's voice this time. The best and easiest vantage point was atop the roof of a building and that was where Spencer was perched, watching Peter swing past the ships. The teen loved being by the water, and Spencer had to admit he enjoyed watching Peter's joy in web-slinging down here. Because of that, he never heard Peter swear, never heard him start to demand "What was that?" from the suit's AI. All Spencer knew was that Peter was suddenly using one of his webs to whip himself around in a lightning-fast move that Spencer couldn't help but be impressed by.

That was about the time that his own senses picked up something. A whistle, first, followed by another strange pop sound, and then a wave of fear that stole the breath from his lungs.

Spencer leapt to his feet as another whistle sounded in the air and he watched with horror as the web Peter was on was broken and the boy was falling down to the ground.

Gunshots, a voice in the back of his mind whispered in horror. Those are gunshots.

Right as that realization came – all hell broke loose.

Men came pouring out from one of the boats and they had guns, so many guns, and all of them were pointing Peter's direction. Luckily, Peter had landed smoothly and he was on his feet, trying to fling a hand up, to web himself out of there, but the sound of multiple gunshots followed him. Spencer was already running when he saw at least two connect with the teen. Horror gripped Spencer hard as Peter spun and twisted to the ground. Peter had great reflexes, and he was fast, but there were so many of them, too many, and there was no way he'd be able to hold out and get himself out of there.

With a last burst of speed, Spencer called up the energy in his hands and hoped to God this worked. He leapt off the roof and let his energy board catch him. Even as he landed on his knees, one hand gripping tight to the board, he raised is other hand and threw a ball of energy that hit the ground hard and sent out a shockwave, blasting back anyone near it.

Spencer pushed hard, willing himself to go as fast as possible as more gunshots filled the air. His only focus was on the body lying way too still on the ground. As soon as he got close, Spencer leaned to the side and used his free hand to grab at Peter's suit, grunting as he yanked him up onto the board. The board widened to accommodate Peter's form as Spencer brought him up. Throwing a leg over him to brace him, Spencer held on tight and sent his board flying up into the sky. He didn't care about the men they were leaving behind. He didn't give a damn who they were or why they were there with guns. All he cared about was the blood he could feel soaking Peter's uniform and the pain that the teen was in.

Peter moaned out something that sounded like "Stop" through the roaring of the wind in Spencer's ears. More gunshots sounded behind them. Spencer barely noticed until he felt the burning, far-too-familiar pain rip its way across the outside of his thigh on the leg he'd thrown so protectively over Peter.

Spencer gripped tighter to the board and tried not to shout or lose control. He pushed them up higher, out of range, and then shot them across the sky in a blur of light that had more than a few people in the streets screaming.

Only he was sure they were far enough away to be safe did Spencer drop them down on a rooftop. Pain and fear made the landing a little rough. He and Peter hit a bit harder than he wanted, the both of them grunting from the impact. Or, well, Spencer grunted. The sound that Peter made was one that would haunt Spencer for the next little while.

"No, no!" Peter moaned at him, hands trying to swat at Spencer as the young genius hurried to hover over his friend. "Take me back… take me back…"

Spencer grabbed hold of Peter's mask and pulled it off his face, needing to see his eyes, see the pallor of his skin. "Peter, look at me. Look right up here!" Spencer snapped, trying his best to put on his firmest voice, the voice that Aaron would've used, or maybe Derek. The one that commanded the other person to listen. He waited until Peter's eyes were on him as best as they could be, pain making them a bit hazy, before he spoke again. "Listen to me, Peter. You've been shot, okay? I know you want to go back there and find out what was going on, but I need to take a look at you and make sure you're okay. All right? I need you to just hold still and let me take a look at you."

When he had Peter's nod, Spencer was free to look down. He almost wished he hadn't. There was blood coming from Peter's left side and his right shoulder.

"I need to look at these, Peter." Spencer warned him. "It's going to hurt. I'm so sorry." That was all the apology he could afford to do. He struggled to recall every bit of first aid he'd ever learned. It was hard to think beyond the pain that was pushing against his Spencer's mental walls, which were still so new. Gently, he ran his hands over the wound on Peter's side. What he found wasn't good but it wasn't as bad as it could've been. There was both an entry and exit wound, meaning the bullet had gone straight through. That was good.

Unfortunately, the shoulder wasn't so lucky.

Spencer swallowed down the bile he felt when he probed gently at the back of Peter's shoulder and found no exit. The bullet was still in there. Oh, God, it was still in there. They needed to get Peter help. They needed to get him to a hospital. Spencer drew back shaking hands and forced himself to be as calm as possible. He could feel Peter's eyes on him and he knew the teen would be searching his face for signs of just how bad this was.

Despite it all, Spencer tried his very best to offer a small smile but didn't sugarcoat his words. "These… Peter, these look pretty bad. We're going to need to get you some help. I can get you out of the suit…"

"No!" Peter cried, trying to pull away from Spencer's hands and jostling his body in the process. The pain he felt spiked even harder and Spencer moaned right along with him. He reached a hand out, pressing it to Peter's chest to stop him, and Peter groaned. "No… no hospital…"

"This isn't something I can treat, Peter. The bullet is still in your shoulder. We can't pull that out on our own. You need a doctor. Someone who knows what they're doing."

Peter's only response was to moan.

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Spencer reached out to the pain he felt, grabbing it and pulling it away from Peter. It wasn't even a conscious choice at first; he just followed instinct. However, as soon as he realized what he was doing, he pulled even more, deliberately drawing the pain off of his friend and onto himself. It made it hard to think, hard to breathe, and yet Spencer didn't let that stop him. He pulled in as much as he could stand.

The pain he held blinded his senses a little. He couldn't hear anything over the roaring of his ears. Not until it got closer and he realized, that wasn't his heartbeat in his ears he was hearing. That was something else. Something that was almost right on top of them.

Spencer's head shot up in just enough time to see a red and gold metal suit landing on the rooftop just a few feet away. In an instant, the suit held a hand up, blue light building in its palm, and a dangerous voice came from the suit itself. "Get your hands off the boy and step away from him – now."