Spider-Who? - A Peter Parker & Mary Jane Watson Story

by brooklynvtc

Set after Spider-Man: Homecoming; While out on patrol, Peter gets into an accident that leaves him helpless in an alleyway. What happens when a certain redhead finds him and quickly realizes that The Amazing Spider-Man doesn't even remember who he is? *Amnesia* *Slow-burn romance* Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson

47. Chapter 47

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A/N: Here is the link to the song that Mary Jane sings if you want to listen to it: watch?v=VyhkvSZ5UeQ

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Chapter Forty-Seven

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If Peter thought that it was awkward having to wait with Mark Watson in the terminal to board their flight, it was nothing compared to actually sitting next to the man in the crammed aircraft. Their flight was direct, meaning that they had to sit there like this for the entirety of their trip until they landed in Venice. Peter had to remind himself that this was actually a good thing - that they didn't have any layovers - but that was difficult to remember every time Peter's elbow knocked into Mr. Watson's, which was hogging the armrest. He longed for time away from the man but…

'This is for Mary Jane,' Peter thought to himself, 'The sooner that they arrived in Venice, the better.'

Mark waited until they were high up in the sky after takeoff and for the seatbelt sign to signal off before he turned fully in his seat to face Peter - his expression both impatient and speculative. "I think it's about time you tell me the information that you know about my baby girl."

Peter frowned at the command in the man's voice. He really had some nerve, didn't he? Especially since Peter had all of the cards to play here while Mark had nothing. How did he think that he could weasel his way into ordering Peter about without any sort of bargaining chip to offer in exchange?

"I've got a better idea," Peter mused, "Why don't I just call the shots and you listen? I've had a lot of experience dealing with missions like this and-"

"Don't give me that bullshit," Mark sneered with a wave of his hand in the air, looking as though he were trying to bat away an annoying fly. "You were never even formally named an Avenger."

"Not true-"

"Really?" Mark smirked as he interrupted his protest, a heavy brow slowly raised in Peter's direction. "Did I miss that press release?"

Despite himself, Peter could feel his cheeks darken. What could he possibly say to that? That he was dubbed an Avenger by Tony Stark while hurtling in an alien ship through space? It sounded impressive, yes, but also unbelievable. Mr. Watson would think he was lying to save face. That's also not to mention that all of the other Avengers didn't really get the memo of Peter's status change… it was not like it had been on the forefront of Peter's mind to tell them after the battle - after Mr. Stark… died.

The only witness to Peter's new elevated superhero status had been Doctor Strange, but he wasn't exactly an Avenger himself either, was he? It was difficult to keep up these days… Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it more unruly, before he finally settled on saying, "I turned them down the first time it was offered."

It was strange to think back to that time. The decision of his refusal to become an Avenger had felt to be the best one at the time, but Peter couldn't help but think… perhaps it had been a mistake to turn down Mr. Stark's offer then. Would it have changed anything? Would Peter have been given extensive training? Become even more powerful to the point that he would've been able to save Mr. Stark from using the Infinity Stones?

He was broken away from his thoughts from the scoff that came from his right, he looked over at Mark to see that he had turned forward with a shake of his head.

"That tells me that you don't work well with others and have an even more difficult time taking orders…" Mr. Watson sighed as he relaxed further into his seat while sending Peter a look out of the corner of his eye. "How can I possibly trust you giving them?"

A wave of irritation washed over Peter. He was sick of being underestimated when it came to things that he was actually accomplished at. Peter may experience a level of self-doubt every once in a while, but even he couldn't deny that he was an excellent strategist. He had been the one to come up with the plan that killed the alien wizard that abducted Doctor Strange, after all. The more that he thought about it, the more insane it became - Peter had a hand in killing the space version of Voldemort. Why didn't that garner him the respect that he deserves? Peter sighed internally and counted to ten in his head. "Because I have the information that you need. And without it, you start with nothing."

A smirk was flashed Mark's way for good measure. Clearly, he would be able to see the implications now right? That it was best if he played it all Peter's way? In fact, he should be realizing how lucky it was that Peter was even allowing Mark to accompany him on this mission at all, given their shared history.

Molten Man very nearly killed an entire house full of innocent teenagers, after all. Peter himself had almost died when he passed out amongst the flames - if it hadn't been for his spider-sense taking over his unconscious body, which vacated him from the burning building, then Peter would've surely died.

That was a difficult thing to ask someone to just forgive and forget - and yet, that was exactly what Annabelle wanted him to do… Mark Watson was fortunate that Peter was being as accommodating as he currently was.

But still, Mark didn't seem to like his retort, as a stormy glower was cast in his direction - but then he paused, and his expression morphed. His gaze adopted a dangerous gleam as they gave Peter's body a once-over. Then he sneered, a hint of amusement tickling on his lips. "...Or, I could just burn the information out of you?"

Peter raised a brow. What a pathetic attempt. He knew that Mark Watson was a bit of a loose cannon, but even he had self-preservation. It was easy for Peter to call his bluff. "In a crammed aircraft high up in the sky that you are also the passenger of? I think not…" Peter drawled with a dry voice, "Besides, whatever happened to the idea of you being 'rehabilitated'? Or was that just some bogus story that you used to sway your sister?"

"It wasn't bogus…"

Peter snorted in disbelief and Mark inched back in his chair in order to frown in Peter's direction properly. "See? This is the issue with you, Punk," Mark hissed as he now leaned in closer, making sure to keep his voice low, "You like to see the world through rose-colored glasses but as soon as someone brings a little bit of gray into your vision, you do your best to cast it out. Have you ever stopped to think that these so-called 'bad guys' are more than just the label? That they have families? Friends? Burdens?"

So… what? Was he supposed to assess every criminal's character over a campfire like he was some sort of fucking camp counselor? Break out the marshmallows and sing Kumbaya while the thugs were also trying to shoot at him? "All I know is that when I see someone committing a crime, I stop it. I don't pause to contemplate the criminal's life story. They honestly should have thought more of their families before they went out and decided to try and hurt people," A single raised brow was cast in Mark's direction, "Kinda like how you hurt Mary Jane…"

Peter wondered if he would deny the amount of neglect that Mary Jane had to endure while under his care, not to mention the emotional abuse. Peter had been witness to those at least, but he couldn't help but speculate on whether Mark had ever hit Mary Jane before he had gotten sober? Peter wasn't sure… Mary Jane had never disclosed that information to either Peter nor Spider-Man, but he wouldn't put it past Mark Watson. When Peter had been helping Mary Jane move out, he saw how Mr. Watson behaved while in the midst of a drunken binge… where he had come into MJ's room and roughly grabbed her arm.

There was heat in Mark Watson's sour gaze as he glowered at Peter.

"I've made a lot of mistakes in my life… and hurting Mary Jane was the most regrettable one," Mark said in a low voice and Peter had to give him some level of credit… he thought for sure that Mr. Watson would've denied ever having hurt Mary Jane on any sort of level. Peter was glad that he was at least owning up to it, because he didn't think that he could emotionally handle getting gas-lit and lied to about what he considered to be varying levels of parental abuse - especially when it was about Mary Jane, who honestly deserved the whole world. "I've been trying ever since to make up for it, but some snot-nosed kid keeps getting in the way between me and my daughter."

At this, Peter couldn't help but release a short, humorless laugh as he shot Mr. Watson a look of pure contempt.

"And you would've gotten away with it too if it weren't for the meddling kid?" Peter quoted with a raised brow. It was an accurate depiction in Peter's mind, because Mark Watson really did sound like an old Scooby-Doo villain.

Huffing out a noise of frustration, Mr. Watson raked a hand through his hair. "Have you ever stopped to consider that all this time, all that I wanted to do was simply talk to Mary Jane? To apologize? That was my intention that night you caught me trying to sneak into Anna's apartment."

Both brows rising high on his forehead, Peter couldn't help but gape fully at the man. That wasn't exactly how Peter remembered it at all… what was it that Mr. Watson said when Peter caught him trying to break into Annabelle's apartment? That he had come for his daughter? His tone then had implied to Peter that he had wanted to just outright take her, no questions asked. Now he was trying to convince Peter otherwise?

"But you said-"

"Yes, I wanted her to come home," Mark cut him off with a heavy sigh as he slumped in his seat. He rubbed both of his palms into his eyes, suddenly looking exhausted. "But if she told me that she wanted to stay with Anna, she would've eventually convinced me. So long as she didn't cut me off completely."

Peter could only stare at the side profile of the man's face for a whole minute, his thoughts a whirlwind. In a fucked up sort of way, it was a touching notion, because it showed that Mr. Watson actually cared about Mary Jane's thoughts and feelings at times… but it still didn't change what happened. Nor was Peter even sure if he believed what Mark was telling him. "And that's the issue with you… she had every right to cut you off after what you did to her."

Someone had to stick up for Mary Jane on this. She deserves to have a choice, not have decisions made for her.

Mark's hands slid down from his face as he shot Peter the nastiest look. "We're blood. You don't just cut off your blood relatives-"

A derisive snort released from Peter without him even intending it to. "Yeah. Blood as thick as water, right?'

Mark Watson stared at Peter for an extended amount of time, studying him. If he thought that he was going to find any crack in Peter's resolve, then he was going to be waiting for quite a while. Finally, it seemed that Mark realized this as well. "You're seriously not going to tell me anything?"

"Wasn't planning on it."

Huffing, Mark shrugged then and relaxed fully into his chair. This guy's mood swings were giving Peter serious whiplash. It also left him on edge as his eyes were constantly looking for any signs of Mark losing control - golden metallic skin, rising heat… but there was nothing. "Well… then I guess that means that I'll just have to go rogue. You know what that means, right?"

Peter narrowed his eyes and raised a single brow in his direction, crossing his arms over his chest. Mark flashed him a feral grin, his eyes dancing and alight with what appeared to be flames.

"That I just burn my way through Venice until I happen across my little girl."

Peter's arms fell to his sides as he gaped at the man before him. What the actual hell? Was he being serious right now?

"You're bluffing." Peter tried accusing, his demeanor tough except for the twitch in his fingers as a brief zing of his spider-sense went off down his spine - not enough to cause alarm to any immediate danger, but just enough to set Peter on edge. He was far from calm, though he was trying his best to act unbothered.

Judging by the low chuckle that emitted from Mark Watson's chest, he saw right through Peter's facade. "You really want to test that theory? Especially since you've already claimed that you don't trust me?"

Biting his lip, Peter tried his best to contemplate the man's sincerity. There were few things in life that Peter knew that Mr. Watson cared about - and the innocent people of Venice were not one of them. And the thing was, Peter could easily picture Mark doing it - because he had witnessed him losing control like that on multiple occasions before. Since his last tactic failed, Peter decided that the next best thing to do was to threaten the man. "I would stop you…"

Peter was met with the dreaded eye roll and had to grit his teeth together in order to stop himself from doing something that he would later potentially regret.

"Then we would both be wasting time that could be better spent finding my daughter," Mark pointed out with a knowing glint sparking in his eye. "It would just be easier if you told me what I need to know now, save us both some time so that we can separate once we land."

Peter released a sigh and as his body seemed to cave in on itself in his seat. How had this discussion turned so sideways? One moment, Peter was certain that he was winning this proverbial chess match but then everything flipped on its axis. Was Mark Watson some sort of expert manipulator? Here, he had nothing to bargain with, and yet… now Peter was actually considering his final point… because he was right in the sense that it was a waste of time for them to continue on like they have been after they land. Precious time that Mary Jane couldn't afford to lose.

Mulling over ideas and thoughts in his head, Peter bit his lip, his earlier resolve suddenly ambiguous. There were few things that he felt were certain, and one of them was that Mary Jane was in Venice. At least, that was what he gathered based on the notes that Ms. Grant had given him - he had stayed up, reading them through until late in the night. But there was roughly a three percent chance that she could've been kidnapped in Rome instead.

He pondered this over in his mind.

Then decided.

It was better if Mary Jane ended up with her father - who obviously cared for her on some level - than for her to stay with Lincoln's hired thugs. If Mark Watson found her first and kidnapped Mary Jane, then Peter would at least know that she was reasonably unharmed enough until he would be able to rescue her from her father's clutches. Although, all of this was dependent on whether Mark was lying when he said that he had good intentions toward Mary Jane… If he was telling the truth when he said that he was planning on returning her to Annabelle, then Peter would have no problems to solve at that point… He would merely be left with a wounded ego for not finding her himself. But, if Mark was lying and was looking to actually kidnap her for himself, that would be horrible yes, but Peter had confidence that he would be able to save Mary Jane in the end.

He still had his flame-resistant webbing, after all.

Either way, it may be moot point. Because Peter was certain that if Mary Jane was being kept somewhere, then it was in Venice. And Peter, he wanted to be the one to find her. There was a part of him that recognized that there was a selfish motivation in that desire. He wanted to solely be Mary Jane's hero. The thought of anyone stealing his thunder and taking his place as her knight in shining armor broke the fantasy that kept playing in Peter's mind's eye.

But the other part of him realized how fucked up and egotistical that fantasy of his was.

In the end, it didn't matter who found Mary Jane - so long as she was found and safe.

Biting his bottom lip, Peter shifted his thoughts back to Mary Jane's father. Could he risk it? Could Peter send Mr. Watson to Rome? As he deliberated within, he was starting to see that the pros actually outweighed the potential cons. This may actually be the perfect opportunity to send Mark Watson on a wild goose chase through Rome, just so that he was out of Peter's way. Then perhaps, Peter could have the best of both worlds. He wouldn't have to concern himself on keeping an ever-present eye on Mark Watson and perhaps… he could fulfill that desire of being Mary Jane's one and only hero. With his decision made, Peter rolled his head over to the side against the headrest, looking Mr. Watson square in the face. "Rome."

"What?"

"Rome. There is a chance that she could be there. That is where her flight landed. The plan was then to drive her to Venice, where her photo shoot would take place."

Mark's face twisted, a perplexed expression morphed there as he contemplated this. "Why fly her out to Rome and not directly to Venice?"

"I interrogated a photographer that was in on it," Peter divulged, his fists tightening as he thought of that slimeball Eddie Brock, "He said that it was so that they could throw off the trail a bit, to make it more difficult to track her whereabouts. And also so that her disappearance couldn't be tracked back to the Lincoln Foundation-"

Peter's eyes widened as he cut himself off abruptly. Fuck. He revealed more than he actually intended. And judging by the curious lilt in Mark Watson's eye, he managed to catch Peter's slip.

"Lincoln Foundation?" Mr. Watson asked, confirming Peter's earlier thoughts.

Peter could only sigh as he hung his head. Might as well just tell him some level of the truth now, make it seem like it was all that he knew so that Mark didn't feel the need to go fishing for any more information. "The company that 'hired' Mary Jane as a model."

Mr. Watson was silent for a beat after that as he absorbed this. Peter couldn't blame him for needing time to process it. Who would have ever thought that all of this had been happening right under all of their noses? That none of them had any indication of nefarious plotting when it came to the company that was offering Mary Jane her dream?

It was inexcusable on Peter's part that he somehow hadn't caught wind of this before it happened. It was a mistake that he was looking to rectify in the future. Because soon, he had a date… with Mr. L. Thompson Lincoln. And it would be one that the man soon wouldn't forget.

Finally, Mark seemed to have been able to grasp onto what it was that Peter revealed, enough for him to start asking difficult questions, "And why did they go through all of this trouble just to kidnap Mary Jane?"

Peter didn't want to say… so he merely shook his head and shrugged a single shoulder, no longer able to meet Mr. Watson's eye. How could he admit aloud that the reason why they went after Mary Jane was because they suspected that she knew Spider-Man's secret identity? Telling Mark Watson that would only prove his assumptions about Peter being poisonous to his daughter as correct. And… perhaps they were…

You are a curse… You only ever hurt those that you love.

When Peter didn't answer, Mark huffed and his hands tightened into fists where they rested on his thighs. For a brief second, steam rose off of Mr. Watson's forearms. But before Peter had the chance to become alarmed and work himself up into a frenzy of panic, the steam dissipated as Mr. Watson spoke, "When this is all over, I'm going after the company that did this to her."

Peter couldn't really say that he was surprised hearing this come from Mark Watson's mouth. In fact, he couldn't blame him, as Peter had those exact same desires. The need for vengeance on Mary Jane's behalf, to make Lincoln pay for what he did to her - especially when Mary Jane had put all of her trust in the man…

Peter closed his eyes for a moment, counting to ten against the redness that had clouded his vision.

He wanted to make that bastard pay.

When he felt that he had calmed just enough, Peter slowly opened his eyes and stared straight ahead at the seat in front of him.

"I already called dibs on Lincoln," Peter murmured.

There was a beat of silence, before-

"One would think that her father would get the chance to have a crack at him first," Mark argued in a low and dubiously casual tone, "It's a dad's job to protect his daughter in that way-"

"Again- blood as thick as water," Peter muttered low, not even deigning to look at the man as he pulled out the portable CD player that he managed to find and buy from an old man at the airport before takeoff. "I already called dibs on Lincoln, so wait in line."

Not wanting to hear another word from the man, Peter placed the headphones over his ears before he dug into his backpack for the jewel case that Annabelle gave him.

It wasn't long before he traded the noise of Mark Watson's low rumble of a voice with that of his daughter's…

The music opened to a sweet violin that played such a haunting tune. Goosebumps burst up Peter's arms as each note seemed to linger, increasing the intensity of his anticipation. The wait was rewarding, however, because he was soon met with the sound of Mary Jane's melodic soprano song…

A Time For Us, Some Day There'll Be.

When chains are torn by courage, born of a love that's free.

A time when dreams, so long denied, can flourish.

As we unveil the love we now must hide.

A time for us, at last to see.

A life worthwhile for you and me.

And with our love, through tears and thorns.

We will endure as we pass surely through every storm.

A time for us, some day there'll be a new world.

A world of shining hope for you and me.

A time for us, at last to see.

A life worthwhile for you and me.

A time for us, at last to see.

A life worthwhile for you and me.

A world of shining hope for you and me.

A world of shining hope for you and me.

The lyrics… it was almost as though he could picture Mary Jane sitting right in front of him, telling him that everything was going to be okay. That they would soon be together - that there would be a time for them…

A time for us.

Despite the bleakness of their current circumstances, Peter felt his heart flutter at the prospect of hope this concept brought to him.

For the rest of the flight, he listened to the song on repeat, letting himself memorize the words so that they merged together with his soul - never to be forgotten as it left it's lasting imprint. Stitching together the gaping hole that had been in his heart ever since Mr. Stark died, making him feel a semblance of becoming whole, at least for a while.

Because Annabelle had been right - the song did bring him comfort when it felt as though all hope had been lost. Even in her absence, Mary Jane somehow managed to deliver that hope.

There was only one question now that lingered in the back of his mind…

How had he not known that Mary Jane could sing?

…

They immediately parted ways once they landed in Venice - not even bothering to exchange phone numbers before they did so. Mr. Watson merely mentioned that he was going to go and find a train to board to Rome and then he was gone, much to Peter's relief and anxiety.

He really hoped that his intuition was correct in thinking that Mary Jane was in Venice, otherwise, he will be looking back at this moment and kicking himself for voluntarily letting Mark Watson out of his sight.

Deciding not to linger himself, Peter quickly left the airport as well, his carry-on suitcase in tow. His plan was to first go to the cheapest hostel he could find that offered a private room. He couldn't risk leaving all of his important things in a shared dorm hostel and having it get stolen while out on his mission.

That was how Peter wound up at the Canale Grande after a quick Google search on his new phone. He had been walking the boardwalk along the Canale Grande when things… got mysteriously insane.

He first sensed it when the water rippled in the canale, pulsating in just a way that created tiny waves. His spider-sense flared in a sharp spike.

Then, out of nowhere, a burst of water shot up into the sky and morphed itself into the form of a man - no, monster.

Peter stumbled back a step before his eyes shot around to all of the people that were screaming and scrambling to get away. He needed to change into his spider-suit but there was no time! The monster was already swiping its watery arms at the surrounding buildings, knocking blocks of brick in all sorts of directions. A flood overcame the cobblestone streets just as Peter made a decision. He webbed his suitcase to the wall of a nearby building just before dodging a swipe that the water monster made at him. Peter dove around the corner of a building, took in a deep breath before he stepped out and shot a web at the water monster and-

The string of webbing went right through it…

Of course. It was a water monster… Stupid, Peter, stupid.

It was then that the monster seemed to have set its sights on the Rialto Bridge and made its way toward it. There were many screaming civilians that were clambering to get off of the bridge and through the mass of crowds.

"Oh no, you don't!" Peter muttered to himself as he leapt across the water by balancing and landing on mooring poles sticking out of the canal, headed straight for the bridge.

With one last giant leap, Peter landed on the bridge and helped up a man that had fallen down at the apex of the arched platform. The man had only just run out of the way after Peter helped him, when a giant watery fist rammed into his back, sending Peter flying to the opposite side with his back connecting painfully to the concrete handrail.

A ton of water had gotten trapped in his mouth, and when the assault ceased, Peter had to take a moment to spit it out, luckily none of it had gotten stuck in his lungs.

He was just scrambling up to his knees, preparing himself to face off with the water giant, when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye…

A puff of green smoke out in the distance… followed by what looked to be a flying man with a mystical globe for a head.

The mysterious figure paused up in this sky and started to perform hand movements that produced what looked to be glowing runes or relics - almost reminiscent to Doctor Strange's power.

Peter slowly stood, gaping at the man - alien? - then remembering himself, his eyes scoped out the area… until it landed on a stray jester's masquerade mask that had been abandoned on the ground. He grabbed for it, not even stopping to think about how ridiculous he would look with it on. Only that he didn't have access to his spider-suit at the moment and that if he was going to fight this monster, he had to protect his secret identity.

The water monster attacked the globe-headed man, who immediately started to counter-attack the beast with sparks of green energy. But the monster only looked to be getting stronger as it absorbed more of the water from the canal…

Peter, now donned in that ridiculous mask, climbed up on the top of the roof of the bridge and tried his best to address the mystical being…

"Excuse me, Sir!" Peter cried, and the globed head turned to glance back at him, "I can help! Let me help! I'm really strong, a-and sticky!"

"I need to lead it away from the canale!" Was the deep-voiced response that he got back, both desperate and commanding sounding at the same time, all the while, the water monster grew in imposing size behind him.

But in a burst of speed, the globe-headed man flew away, a jet of water chasing after him. And as it followed him, the pressure of the water through the bridge caused the integrity to start to crumble - with Peter still standing on it.

Leaping high in the air, Peter started to give chase after them, using his webs to repair as much of the damage on the surrounding buildings in their wake as he could before the bricks toppled over and crushed any of the innocent bystanders that were still trying to run away.

Eventually, the water monster knocked its arm into the Santa Maria Formosa bell tower - and the base of the building started to crumble. A mix between irritation and horror touched upon him as he leapt closer to the tower. He couldn't hold back a complaint as he sped with all of his might in order to stop the important monument from falling. "Oh, come on!"

Using his webbing, Peter reinforced the base of the tower before he landed at the top, where the bell was housed, and peering over the edge, he watched as the globe-headed man fought the water monster - resulting in it falling into the tower that Peter just saved.

He could feel the tilt of the building as it started to fall, and Peter spent the remainder of the fight doing his best to keep the monument from destruction and from keeping any debris from crushing any potential stray passerbys. During the process, he kept getting hit in the head by the ever-ringing bell, much to his aggravation and dizziness.

Peter was on the cusp of success when the mysterious man had somehow overcome the water monster - blowing water outward in a burst of force. The blast hit the building that Peter was trying to save and his webbing snapped, resulting in the devastation of the tower with a mighty crash.

When he finally managed to find his bearings, Peter looked around. There was water everywhere, but the mysterious man was nowhere to be seen…

….

For once, luck had been on his side. Not only had his suitcase been untouched from where he left it in the destructive fight, but the hostel that he had been intending to stay at had also managed to escape the wreckage.

As he waited at the check-in desk to ready the single room that he was reserving for the foreseeable future, for the first time since he's returned from the dead, Peter logged into his Instagram account on his new phone… and was surprised to see that news of the fight with the water monster had already made it back to the states. In fact, his friends were posting about it on their stories.

Betty's was the first story that Peter viewed, which was a reel that had been copied from the Italian news that was covering the incident. In her own text written over the clip, Betty wrote the following, "Be sure to follow me for news on the new superhero, #Mysterio, as more information develops!"

Ned's story was next, which was a screenshot of the globe-headed man shooting green blasts at the water monster, and only added his own hashtags, like, #MysterioVSWaterMonster and #MysterioForTheWin.

Peter nearly deliberately skipped over Flash's story, but his curiosity got the better of him as he clicked on it. There, Flash posted a grainy screenshot of... Peter, wearing the masquerade mask while webbing up buildings. "Okay, we get it about the Mysterio guy but who is this #JesterDude, wtf? Spider-Man could kick both of their asses on top of defeating the water monster any day!"

Peter couldn't help but release a snort. But still… he couldn't manage to suppress the slight amount of pride at the statement. Flash may be an asshole but at least it seemed that he was a loyal fan.

Pushing aside a small amount of respect that he miraculously found for his childhood bully, Peter instead went straight for Harry's post - wanting to see if there was any indicator that his friend had also been one of the dusted or not… He couldn't gather much information based off of his story alone but he could see that Harry was also weighing in on the hot topic that all of the rest of their schoolmates were discussing.

Harry posted a zoomed-in picture of the globed-man's figure, with his fists glowing green and ancient ruins floating around him. Harry wrote over the picture, "Now *this* is what a real hero looks like."

Peter sighed but wasn't able to take the time to contemplate any of it further, as that had been the exact moment his room was declared ready. He walked himself down to the designated room number indicated, unlocked it, only to find the tiniest room he's ever seen, with a single bed and a small bedside table with a lamp being the only things to occupy the space.

It was more than enough for Peter to get by. It was his hope that he wouldn't have to spend much time in here at all. His greatest hope was that he would find Mary Jane right away and that they would be able to fly home to New York as soon as possible. Perhaps there was a chance that he wouldn't have to sleep in this stiff bed at all.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the sudden ringing of his phone. Peter reached into his damp jean pockets and fished it out, lifting it up to his eyes in order to see the screen.

Caller Unknown

Scoffing, Peter hit the decline button. He didn't have any time for dealing with that. Instead, he placed his suitcase on the single bed and wasted no time in unlocking the latches. When he opened it, his spider-suit was there, sitting on top of the clump of clothing he had decided to bring with him. The new nanotechnology suit that Mr. Stark had given him would've come in handy in the fight earlier, but he had decided against bringing it altogether as he wasn't sure if he would have the ability to charge it while overseas.

Instead, he brought the suit that Mr. Stark had once taken away from him. One that he would be able to spend hours upon hours in as he scoured Venice for any signs of Mary Jane…

And he immediately donned the suit to do just that - at the last second, he grabbed a zip-up hoodie to put over it. He was still a bit cold from the water attack he had to endure, and it looked to be a windy night…

…

Everything sucked and could go to hell for all Peter cared.

He had spent ten hours searching Venice for any sign of Mary Jane, and he could not find a single trace. It was somewhere around the hour three mark where self-doubt started to plague him, but as time went on, he really started to spiral down the rabbit hole of uncertainty.

What was he doing? All of his so-called 'planning' had really gotten him nowhere. If he was even in the right city, he still had no clue where to even start searching. It wasn't as though he could start knocking on people's doors, asking for entry to search their houses for any sign of a gorgeous redhead in distress.

He couldn't think of anything else to do other than scope the streets, peer through any windows… he was growing desperate and weary. But he wouldn't give up. No matter how hopeless the situation appeared.

Eventually, it was getting to the point where he could hardly see straight due to pure exhaustion. The sun was due to rise in a few hours. Perhaps a quick rest at the hostel would rejuvenate him before he set out on foot in his civilian clothes, continuing his search in a more inconspicuous fashion.

That was how he found himself returning to the room, feeling both defeated and dead on his feet. He approached the single window that he had left through earlier, waiting unlocked for his return, and opened it. He had one foot through the opening before he froze, his eye-catching on the figure that sat on the single bed against the far wall…

"You're very difficult to get in contact with, Spider-Man," The man said, his face being the only thing illuminated from the shadows by the moonlight as he leaned forward in his seat. The eyepatch alone was instantly recognizable…

"You're Nick Fury…" Peter said as he climbed fully into the small space before dropping the hood of his sweatshirt and lifting off his spider-mask, revealing his bewildered expression to the man. "What are you doing here?"

"So good to finally meet you," Fury emphasized, there was a lilt in his tone that indicated that he was actually displeased… with Peter. He paused and just looked at Peter, letting out a deep breath. "I saw you at the funeral, but I didn't think that would've been a good time to exchange numbers…"

Peter blinked. Nick Fury was at Mr. Stark's funeral? If he was, then Peter honestly couldn't remember seeing him there. His head had been in such a fog then, unable to take the grief. He still couldn't - it was only that now, he had something to distract him, keep him focused. His need to find Mary Jane was enough for Peter to allow himself to forget at times that Mr. Stark was… dead.

Peter let out a bit of a huff and shook his head slightly. "No. That would've been really inappropriate."

He wasn't sure what he would've done if Nick Fury had approached him at Mr. Stark's funeral… but it probably wouldn't have been a pretty sight. From what Peter could remember of how he felt then, he probably would've said or done something in front of all of those left of the Avengers that he would have regretted.

Nick Fury cast him with a level look. "That's what I just said."

"Right," Peter replied, awkwardly. He still had yet to explain his presence in Peter's rented room. He knew that Fury had been trying to get a hold of him, but he found it difficult to believe that he would go to this extent just to speak to him.

"The important thing is, you're here. I tried to bring you here - you avoided me - and now you're here. Look at that… what a coincidence." There was a level of smug satisfaction that was pointed his way that Peter was trying to fully grasp. All this time, Fury wanted Peter to be here? In Venice?

"Wait… was this a coincidence?" He found himself asking. Did any of this have anything to do with Mary Jane? Or the water monster that attacked the canale?

Fury ignored his question and looked at him in an imploring manner. "I used to know… everything. Then I come back five years later and now I know nothing. No intel. No team," The way that his tone said this was clear that he was talking about the lack of Avengers. Those who were left were now scattered across the globe. "And a high school kid is dodging my calls."

Peter swallowed, feeling the whole weight of the scolding that was being aimed his way. But still, he didn't say anything. Wanting to wait and hear all that Fury had to disclose before he gave any sort of response.

"Here's what I do know," Fury continued, as he put down a small metallic device next to the single lamp in the room that was on the tiny bedside table. There was a ringing hum before a hologram burst out from it, illuminating the room with a 3D picture of the globe. "Less than a week ago, a village in Mexico was wiped out by a cyclone-"

Peter took a couple of steps closer to inspect the picture of virtual technology as it morphed into the very village that Fury was referring to. Panels of videos of the catastrophe popped up around it, highlighting its true devastation. Peter's throat got thick with the pity that he felt for this small village - hasn't the world gone through enough recently?

"-Witnesses say that the cyclone… had a face."

Peter's head snapped up to meet Fury's one eye, his own gaze wide.

"Two days later, a similar event in Morocco," The screen shifted so that it showed a small village getting destroyed by what looked to be a sand storm - also with a face. This caused Peter to pause and he looked at it with a calculating eye… it didn't appear to be Flint Marko, but he could've changed in the last five years… that is, if he had managed to escape his glass prison. "A village was destroyed by what may well be another world-threatening event," Nick Fury grabbed the holographic device and stuffed it into his pocket, the pictures disappearing along with it.

"Suit up," He ordered Peter, which had him stiffening. The way that Nick Fury said that, bridged for no argument. What the hell did this guy think that he was? He- well… yes, he was Nick Fury, director of S.H.E.I.L.D. but that didn't mean that he could just order Peter about like he was some sort of soldier listening to his superior officer in a war. Fury had never been in charge of him and never would be, frankly.

"Eh… No?" Peter tested his voice as he shifted from foot to foot awkwardly.

"Excuse me?" Did he seriously think that just because he said 'jump' that Peter would ask 'how high?'

"No." Peter replied more boldly this time. He seriously needed to put his foot down on this one. He had other priorities at the moment - Mary Jane came first. After that, there was a long list of responsibilities he needed to focus on, including keeping tabs on Molten Man and his whereabouts. He couldn't just abandon all of that only to gallivant around with Nick Fury fighting storms that happened to have faces. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Fury, but I can't help you."

"Why the hell not?" If Peter would have been in a more gracious mood, he would have winced at Fury's tone. Hell, if Peter hadn't endured all that he had gone through already, he probably would've already bent to Nick Fury's will. But Peter was stronger than that now. He had learned the art of fighting for what he felt was right, and not just by other people's standards. And he could feel in his gut how vital it was that he found Mary Jane - his very sanity may depend on it. He shuddered to think of what would happen to his already fragile mind if he didn't find her.

Peter made to answer but Fury held up a hand, cutting his response off. "No, don't answer that yet. I can't deal with your excuses right now." He sighed heavily and cast Peter a cursory glance through a narrowed eye. "You at least have to come with me for a couple of hours. I've got something to give you."

With that, Nick Fury walked out the door with purpose, fully expecting Peter to follow. And Peter was unsure as to why… but for some reason, follow is exactly what he did.

…..

Perhaps it was his ever-present curiosity that had Peter accompany Nick Fury back to his hidden base. Or maybe it was the fact that there was a part of Peter - the young boy inside of him that admired all things Avengers - that couldn't believe how surreal it was that he was finally in the presence of Nick Fury.

But mostly, he wanted to just get all of this out of the way. Listen to Fury's full spiel just so that Peter could politely decline the mission once again - and perhaps in the process, collect whatever item that was so important that Nick Fury had to hand-deliver it to him.

They made their way to the secret base via boat on the grand canal, most of the leftover debris from the battle with the water monster still wasn't cleaned up fully. It wasn't until they pulled under a bridge did the boat finally stop, pulling alongside the cobblestone walkway hidden underneath the archway. In the wall underneath the bridge, was a door… it looked like your average maintenance door to the unassuming eye, but Nick Fury - and the couple of agents that he had brought with him - got out and immediately made their way for it. Fury scanned his eye for security clearance and the lock popped open with a creak. The agents entered immediately but Fury looked back at Peter.

"After you, Spider-Man," He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, clearly indicating that he was mocking him by treating him as though he were some sort of royalty. Was he seriously that butt-hurt from Peter's refusal? If that was the case, the rest of his visit was sure to be as awkward as hell, because Peter had no intention of changing his mind. Not with the vision of Mary Jane's face swimming in his mind…

Swallowing, Peter made his way forward and through the heavy entrance with Fury just behind, the distinct thud of the door slamming shut behind them.

Peter waited off on the side of the damp underground walkway for Fury to lead the way, which he did with purpose. He was escorted to a small room just halfway down the hall, it was empty of people but full of gadgetry and weaponry that lined the walls on hooks and shelves.

Fury walked up to a steel briefcase that was housed on one such shelf alongside other utilities, took it down, and pressed his thumbprint on the scan pad near the handle. The briefcase opened with a click, which Fury opened further, his back to Peter as he lingered in the open doorway, watching.

Fury reached inside of the briefcase and grabbed whatever it was that was stored inside before he turned slowly to face Peter.

"Stark left these for you," He said as he handed out a small object toward Peter. The name that he spoke so casually struck Peter, and for a moment, it was difficult for him to breathe. His palms got sweaty underneath his gloves and his muscles shook with the torn desire to run from the room and greedily snatch the object from Fury's hand. He hesitated. But only for a moment. Then, he took two shaky steps forward to grab the object from Nick Fury's outstretched hand.

"R-Really?"

It was a small case. Peter slowly pulled it close, inspecting it. Then he opened the top of it… to reveal a pair of glasses inside. Peter's eye lenses on his mask widened in recognition. They weren't just any glasses. They were Mr. Stark's glasses - the ones that he always chose to wear.

"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown…" Fury mused as Peter glanced back and forth between him and the precious gift that he currently had in hand. "Stark said that you wouldn't get that because it wasn't a Star Wars reference."

It was too much. He didn't deserve to have these. How- Why… Why were these being given to him?

"I'll give you a moment alone," Fury said as he walked forward and bypassed where Peter stood. "Just come to the room at the end of the hall once you've composed yourself. Also… lose the mask. Everyone here has seen you without it. You'd only be feining anonymity and breathing through spandex for no good reason."

Their shoulders nearly touched when Fury passed, but the man was soon gone, leaving Peter mercifully alone.

Slowly, Peter reached up to remove his mask, revealing his face to the open air. He lowered the hand that bunched his mask in his fist and tucked it into one of the empty compartments in his suit to carry small items.

The glasses gained his full attention then, as he blinked against the rapidly burning tears in his red eyes. Sniffing against the sensation, Peter took them out of the case and raised the frame to his face, slipping them up the bridge of his nose until they were settled firmly in front of his eyes.

The pressure of them felt heavy in ways that had nothing to do with weight. Peter was well aware that this was a mantle being passed down - a torch he was meant to carry onward, but he didn't think that he could handle the gravity of them.

He didn't deserve it. None of it.

He hadn't been able to save Mr. Stark… all because he was a curse.

Something inside of the case caught his eye then, a note that had been meticulously placed so that it had rested underneath the glasses. Peter took out the small card that had just a short amount of script written in familiar writing…

For the next Tony Stark,

I trust you.

P.S. Say Edith

-T.S.

Peter read the words aloud in a soft voice, and just as soon as he said the name written on the card, the glasses lit up before his eyes and burst to life.

"Stand by for retinal and biometric scan." A female robotic voice echoed out from the speakers on the temples of the frames near his ear, just soft enough so that if Peter were in a public setting, it would be difficult for others to hear what the voice was saying.

Codes shot across the lenses of the glasses at a rapid-fire speed, so quick that Peter was unable to follow them.

"Retinal and biometric scan accepted," The robotic voice confirmed as a picture of Peter's face appeared on the screen.

"Hello?" Peter asked the voice, hesitant in his own.

"Hello, Peter. I am E.D.I.T.H. Tony Stark's augmented reality, security, and defense system."

"Huh," Peter hummed, impressed as he rocked back on his heels as his eyes raked over the screen of the extraordinary technology. "So… he made you for me?"

"No. But you have access to all of Tony's protocols," E.D.I.T.H. said as Peter pushed the glasses further up his nose.

"Cool," Peter breathed as he basked in the old sensation of being able to explore something new - especially something having to do with Stark Tech - arguably the best technology in the world. Now he finally understood why Mr. Stark wore the glasses nearly constantly. Mr. Stark had been many things, brave and intelligent among them… but he had also been paranoid beyond belief. That was where many people tended to zone out and stop listening to Mr. Stark- when he went on a tangent about his paranoia. Peter had been one of the few to truly understand Mr. Stark's fears - and in the end, Mr. Stark's overt suspicions had been proven correct when… Thanos had shown up.

"Would you like to see what I can do?" E.D.I.T.H. asked, which Peter confirmed that yes, he would like a bit of a rundown tutorial.

What followed was an impressive amount of protocols that E.D.I.T.H. was able to achieve. Access to the entire Stark global security network, including multiple defense satellites as well as backdoors to all major telecommunication networks… meaning that it had the ability to hack into people's phones.

That… would be able to come in handy. But what really struck a chord with Peter was the word 'satellites' - as in plural.

"Satellites?" Peter breathed, his heart nearly pulsating out of his chest as he thought over the merits of what this could mean for him. The possibilities-! "You- Do these satellites have footage? Of the civilian population?"

"That is correct, Peter. All of Stark Industries' satellites have surveillance pointed toward all major cities. Tony wanted to make sure he would be made aware as soon as there was any imminent danger that struck."

His mouth was suddenly very dry. He was almost afraid to move - to speak - in fear of this being a dream. Perhaps none of this happened and he was actually asleep in his hostel right now, defeated after a long, unsuccessful night of his mission. But still, he would never know unless he somehow found the ability to ask the question, "A-Are you able to search for one specific person from those satellites?"

"Yes," E.D.I.T.H. confirmed and Peter nearly punched the air in his excitement, "Is there a person that you would like for me to find?"

"Yeah- Yes," Peter blurted, grinning wide for the first time since before his battle with Thanos, "Can you try and locate a 'Mary Jane Watson'? She may be in Venice but can you check all of Italy just in case?"

If she really was in Rome, Peter wanted to somehow beat Mark there to her current location - be the hero to her that he so desperately wanted to be.

A picture of Mary Jane's face came up on the screen - it looked to be her latest school yearbook picture. It was a cute picture of her, and the sight of it actually caused a ghost of a smile to tickle on his lips as his eyes roamed over her sparkling eyes and beaming grin at the camera. Was there even a picture of her that existed that didn't make her out to be so photogenic? "Stand by while I run the protocol."

Time passed while Peter waited on bated breath, staring at the image of Mary Jane's face and willing for footage to soon pop up of her current whereabouts.

An angry red 'X' suddenly popped up over the top of Mary Jane's picture, and he nearly stumbled where he stood. His stomach dropped in an unpleasant swooping sensation along with his smile. "I was unable to locate Mary Jane Watson anywhere in Italy."

A cold sweat broke out on his forehead and neck. Was the room spinning slightly? No. This didn't have to be a bad thing. There could be plenty of places that Mary Jane could be, and once he found out, he would be on the first flight there. "Can- Would it be too much to ask you to check the rest of the world?"

"Of course not, Peter," E.D.I.T.H. said, "Please stand by."

This search took a bit longer but it ended with the same result - another angry red 'X' appearing over Mary Jane's picture.

Peter fell to his knees, unable to breathe. Bile rose up from his stomach and he very nearly threw up its contents. This isn't happening. This couldn't be happening! Mary Jane is fine. She's fine, right? She had to be fine.

"Is she… she can't be-" He swallowed and forced the words out, needing to know, "Is she dead, E.D.I.T.H.?"

For an unmeasurable amount of time, it felt as though Peter was waiting on bated breath - but in reality, E.D.I.T.H.'s answer only took a few seconds.

"I cannot confirm," E.D.I.T.H. said, "She may be in a location that my surveillance is unable to reach."

Peter's head snapped up, his heart fluttered. "So, if she were being kept in a basement without technology nearby-?"

"I would be unable to trace her location if she was currently in a place such as that."

Despite himself, Peter released a heavy breath of relief. Hope was not all lost… there was still a chance that Mary Jane was out there, waiting for him to rescue her. He only just had to find her… and in a roundabout way, this was helpful. It helped to confirm the type of place that Mary Jane could be held right now. The task seemed daunting, trying to search for Mary Jane in a place that was underground, without technology nearby for E.D.I.T.H. to be able to pinpoint her presence, but Peter was more than willing to take it on. If only to be able to see that same sparkle in Mary Jane's eyes once again as he could see in her picture.

….

It took a bit of time for Peter to compose himself enough to traverse to the room down the hall as Fury instructed him to do. He really should be going back to the hostel and getting a couple hours of sleep right now before starting his search for Mary Jane again, but he felt that he could at least entertain whatever it was that Fury wanted to tell him - if only to show his gratitude for giving him E.D.I.T.H., no matter how undeserved the gift truly was.

Besides… he didn't think that he could sleep anymore now if he tried…

"Ah," Fury said as soon as he spotted Peter in the opening of the underground workspace. "Glad you decided to join us."

Peter only gave a nod, his gaze scoping out the space with a level of mild curiosity. Fury took several heavy footsteps toward Peter and gestured for him to come further into the room. Peter obeyed as Fury pointed out a woman - with brown hair pulled back into a bun and wearing a tight jumpsuit - she stood in front of one of the monitors. "There we have Maria Hill."

The woman merely looked up at him with a glance, not acknowledging him in any other way as Peter gave her a small wave and continued following Fury further into the room. Fury then gestured to a man with a large nose, severe-looking face, heavy-laden dark eyebrows, and long hair tied back into a bun. "This is Dimitri."

The man cocked his gun as Peter walked past, to which Peter only raised a brow. Did he think that would be intimidating to Spider-Man? Peter could bet that he could dodge any bullet the man dared to shoot his way.

"And this…" Peter turned his focus forward and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the man whose back faced him. The impressive cape and imposing stature made him recognizable immediately. "...is Mr. Beck."

The man slowly turned away from the circular table - filled with battle tactics and plans - to face Peter. He was young, but not too young. With a trimmed beard, blue eyes, and slicked back brown hair. He wasn't wearing his globed helmet but it was clear to Peter instantly exactly who he was…

"Mysterio?" Peter asked, echoing the name he saw repeatedly on his phone after the fight.

A perplexed expression crossed the man's face as he looked at Peter with soft eyes. "What?"

"Doesn't matter," Peter said with a slight wave of his hand, "Just what I saw my friends call you online…"

"Well," The man said as he took a few steps forward with an outstretched hand, Peter also advanced to reach his handshake, "You can call me Quentin."

His handshake was firm. Uncle Ben had always told Peter that meant that a person had strong character. They let go rather quickly as Mr. Beck continued speaking as he gestured in Peter's general direction with his open hand, his expression openly portraying that he was impressed, "You handled yourself well out there today. I saw what you did with the tower. We could've used someone like you on my world."

He turned away from Peter to go back to looking at the holographic table.

"Thanks," Peter said with the briefest of smiles before it dropped in sudden confusion, "I'm sorry… your world?"

"Mr. Beck is from Earth," Fury piped up as he walked away from a monitor and past Peter while indicating towards him, Peter's gaze followed the trajectory of his movement. "Just not yours."

"There are multiple realities, Peter," Peter's eyes snapped over to Mr. Beck as he said this. He had fully turned away from the table now, leaning his back against it as he gave Peter his full attention. Peter couldn't help but like that he was talking with him rather than at him, like a lot of adults - the Avengers especially - tended to do with Peter. This was mostly due to his age. But he always felt that recognition should be earned by a person's actions, not just because they happened to have lived longer. He felt his respect for Mr. Beck grow. "This is Earth dimension 616, and I'm from Earth 833."

Peter's hand flew up to his head as he stumbled back a step for a second, but was then immediately trudging forward, wanting to get closer to the man in his ferment interest, "I'm sorry, are you saying there's a multiverse?"

He couldn't suppress the bubbling excitement that he felt at this newfound knowledge. All of the possibilities - the theories. They were flitting through his mind at the speed of light. He could feel that there was a certain spark in his eyes as he actually smiled up at the man before him in awe. There was no one else like him within their entire universe - because he wasn't from this universe. Was his biological makeup even the same as the rest of the human race from Peter's Earth? "Because I thought that was just theoretical! I mean that could completely change how we understand the initial singularity- we're talking about internal inflation system and- how does that even work with all of the quantum- I mean, it's insan-!'

He cut himself off as he looked around in his rambling fervor, trying to find another face that shared in the knowledge of how mind-boggling this actually was. But… as he looked around, all that he saw were speculative glances as they all looked at him… funny. The smile slipped off of his face.

"Sorry… It's just… really cool."

He turned to look back at Mr. Beck, who was fixing him with a soft and level stare. When he had Peter's full attention again, he said in a strong and affirmative voice, "Don't ever apologize for being the smartest one in the room."

Peter could feel his face shift through varying emotions until he settled on a slight - albeit surprised - smile. That certainly wasn't what he was expecting… To further this point, Mr. Beck shot him a wink.

It went beyond respect now… Peter actually liked the man before him. If it were a different point in time, and he wasn't so busy with his mission, he could easily see himself sitting down and having long conversations with the man, where they would have a difficult time growing tired of any of the shifting topics they would discuss.

There was a slight huff of derision from his side that came from Maria Hill as she interjected herself into the conversation. "Anyway…"

She pressed the necessary buttons on her keypad to start the hologram presentation on the table for Peter to listen as Mr. Beck went into detail about the monsters that had been attacking the Earth. They were forged in a black hole and emulated the four elements - Air, Water, Fire, Earth - which Mr. Beck said that on his Earth, they called them 'Elementals'.

His mind nearly did a double-take at that. The Green Goblin had been creating super villains that followed that same pattern… what a coincidence that the things Peter had to fight tended to follow the same themes.

Peter continued to listen as Mr. Beck relayed the tale of what happened to his Earth - how it had been destroyed by the Elementals. He couldn't help but look on at Mr. Beck with pity and a heavy heart. Fury then confirmed that Mr. Beck had already destroyed the other three - the only one left being fire.

"The strongest one of them all," Mr. Beck said as he looked down towards the floor. "The one that destroyed my Earth…"

His hand came up to fiddle with a ring that was on his engagement finger. Peter's throat tightened. "It's the one that took my family…"

"I'm sorry," Peter said through a tight throat. Here, he thought that he knew loss… but he had never had to deal with the loss of his entire family and his whole world at the same time. How was Mr. Beck even able to still function? There were times where Peter felt paralyzed by the grief that he felt in his heart.

"It will be in Prague in exactly 120 hours," Maria Hill said.

"We have one mission…" Fury piped up from his seat by the computer screens. "Kill it. And you're coming with us."

His tone bridged for no argument. Peter could only stare at him for a moment, his tongue-tied as he was unsure as to what to say…

He looked back and forth between Fury and Maria Hill. "I'm sorry, did you say Prague?"

Maria Hill nodded and Peter immediately went in on his excuses. Here came the part where he politely declined the offer - if he could even call it that. It sounded more like an order. "Mr. Fury, this all seems like big-time - you know - huge superhero kind of stuff," He shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, "And… I'm just your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, sir."

"Bitch, please. You've been to space," Fury waved him off, his tone full of disbelief.

"I know, but that was an accident, sir," Peter said as he paced closer to the man. He really needed to try and get his point across - that Peter would be no help to him on this matter. "There's got to be someone else you can use."

His tone was desperate. There had to be someone else. Anyone else.

"What about Thor?" Peter suggested.

"Off-world."

"Okay, um… Doctor Strange?"

"Unavailable." Maria Hill cut in with a flat tone.

Really? Kinda like how Peter himself was unavailable? Next time he saw the wizard, he would be sure to ream into him.

"Captain Marvel?"

"Don't invoke her name." Fury said with a bit of a bite to his voice. Okay… that was weird.

"Sir…" Peter began, his hand came up to rub tiredly at his eyes. "I want to help, I really do. It's just that…"

Breaking off, he let out a sigh. He would have to tell them all, wouldn't he? He had wanted to avoid saying this, but Fury wasn't taking no for an answer. Still, he felt the hesitation to even bring up his true purpose in Italy. He was unsure as to why, everyone in the room was S.H.E.I.L.D. agents and were bound to be trustworthy. Hell, they all already knew his secret identity. But… this wasn't really superhero or spy business, was it? No, this was personal. But what other choice did he have?

"I'm already on a mission," Peter revealed, his voice quiet as his eyes ducked downward to stare at the damp floor. "I'm trying to find someone - someone who is very important to me."

There was a long silence that followed. Dimitri let out a lone awkward cough and Peter avoided meeting Nick Fury's eye. Until finally…

"Who could be so important that you would put the fate of the world at risk?" The bite in Fury's tone was severe. But it had the opposite effect on Peter that Fury was probably intending. Instead of cowering against the forcefulness of the words, they only served to bolster him.

Because was he seriously asking Peter to sacrifice Mary Jane for the good of the world?

"Mary Jane Watson is, sir," Peter said, his voice unwavering now as he lifted his defiant gaze, meeting that lone eye.

"And what is she…?" Came Fury's incredulous question, a huff of an unamused laugh followed, "Your girlfriend?"

"Yes," Peter confirmed automatically without thinking. Then hesitated, because that wasn't exactly true, was it? "Wait- no. Not yet. She- well, we kissed. Once. And-"

"So you're telling me," Fury began, his voice fully displaying all the judgment his face was currently portraying, "That you're willing to sacrifice the entire world for one girl that you're not even in a relationship with?"

"Yet," Peter responded, a stubborn jilt to his jaw.

"Yet- Are you fucking kidding me, right now?"

"I'm sorry," Peter said, and he really was. If it had been under different circumstances, Peter would have jumped on the opportunity to prove himself. "I- I made promises, sir, and you… you just wouldn't understand all that we've gone through together. She-"

"I don't care if you two have a bond as strong as paper and glue," Fury bit out as he leaned forward in his seat in an intimidating pose, "How can you possibly put the fate of the world at-"

"Why are you trying to find her, Peter?" Mr. Beck interrupted in a quiet voice from behind him, "What's happened to her?"

Peter turned his head to look at him, his expression both sad and desperate at the same time, willing for Mr. Beck - anyone - to understand. "She came to Italy five years ago for a modeling job, but then Thanos' snap happened. Her aunt thought that she was one of the dusted, but when we were all brought back, no one heard from her. She's missing- kidnapped, actually. She was taken by a group of hired men five years ago… and I have to find her."

"And she is still missing?" Fury interjected, his tone fully displaying how dubious he was on the matter, "After all these years?"

Peter frowned, and his fists clenched and unclenched half a dozen times before he found that he was calm enough to answer. He didn't like the way that Fury worded that… almost like he was indicating that Mary Jane was…

No. Mary Jane was fine. She had to be.

"Well… I used E.D.I.T.H. - Mr. Stark's glasses - just before I came in here and she didn't find any trace of her via the Stark satellites…" That got an eyebrow raise from the man before him and Peter scrambled to finish speaking before Fury could interject his distasteful commentary on the matter. "But E.D.I.T.H. also said that it could mean that she was being kept somewhere where the surveillance wouldn't be able to trace her. Like in a basement or something."

Fury sighed and leaned forward so that he was bent over his thighs, one forearm resting on his knee while the other hand came up and rubbed at his single eye with his thumb and forefinger. He looked suddenly exhausted. "And… you won't stop? Until you find her, right?"

Straightening his stance, Peter gave a firm nod in return. "That's right, sir."

Fury rolled his head upwards and fixed Peter with a look. "You're not making this easy, are you?"

Peter set his jaw stubbornly. "If you just find someone else to help-"

"There. Is. No. One. Else…" Fury emphasized. "But… I'm prepared to make you an offer that you can't refuse."

Peter raised a single brow at the man but said nothing. He couldn't think of anything that the man could offer him that would tempt Peter from finding Mary Jane. She was worth more to him than anything that carried any monetary value, status, or prestige. But it would be amusing for Peter to see Fury try.

"What if I told you that you could get you a team?"

Peter's brows furrowed in confusion. "A team? I thought you said that there was no one els-"

"Not a team of superheroes," Fury interjected, looking at Peter like he was dumb for not catching onto that fact, "A team of trained operatives. If you join our mission, then I will extend this team to find this Watson girl that you like so much."

It was a more thought-out offer than Peter had been anticipating. He had been expecting for Fury to offer something that he thought would tickle Peter's vanity, but Fury really did know which buttons to push on a person in order to submit to his leadership, didn't he? That way probably why he was the Director of S.H.E.I.L.D… But still-

"I'm sorry, sir…" Peter swallowed thickly, "But no deal. I-I made a promise to her aunt, and it's a promise that I can't break."

It was a promise that he didn't want to break.

Fury looked up at him for an extended amount of time, before, "Okay… I understand."

Peter blinked.

"W-What?" He couldn't help but stutter in disbelief.

Fury sat up and leaned slowly back in his chair, all the while, he still remind his eye contact with Peter - so full of scrutiny as he sized Peter up.

"Wouldn't want you to miss out on going to Prom without a date, after all," Fury said dismissively before he shot him the smallest of condescending smiles. Peter blinked again, but it was gone a moment later, Fury was already looking away from him.

"Dimitri," He called to the severe-looking agent seated a small distance away, "Take Mr. Parker back to the hostel, please."

The agent gave a single nod of affirmation and started to gather a couple of things.

"Thank you, Mr. Fury," Peter said as he started walking backward, "And… good luck."

He didn't get any sort of response back as he started to walk away. As he passed by Mr. Beck, Peter paused and held out his hand for another parting handshake. If after all of this was over, Peter hoped that he would get to see the man again. But Mr. Beck didn't extend his hand… his eyes studied his face for a long moment, then without looking away, he spoke at a volume so that the room at large could hear.

"I'm going to walk Peter out," He announced. Everyone seemed unaffected by this statement and together, they followed Dimitri out of the room and into the hall.

Peter's muscles twitched as he walked awkwardly next to the man that he was essentially abandoning to save the world by himself. It wasn't for selfish reasons - at least, Peter didn't see it that way. Saving Mary Jane was far from a selfish motivation in his mind.

Still… there was the underlying desire to apologize to the man but he found that the words were stuck in his throat, unable to break the silence that followed them out into the extended hall.

But it turned out, Peter wasn't the one that had to break the silence…

"Why don't you wait for him in the boat, Dimitri?" Mr. Beck asked and the man obeyed the request, as he continued his steps down the hall to make his way out the exterior door. Peter wasn't surprised. Mr. Beck had that sort of commanding air to him - a quality that any good leader carried without effort or force. It was a no-brainer that people tended to follow his suggestions.

Once they were finally alone, Mr. Beck turned away from watching Dimitri's retreat to focus solely on Peter. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but that was the exact moment where Peter managed to find his voice.

"Look, I'm sorry for leaving you to fight this all alone," Peter began, "It's just that-"

"No," Mr. Beck interrupted, holding a gentle hand up in the air to pause what was bound to be a rambling mess on Peter's part, "I get it, Peter… if anyone understands the importance of loved ones, it's me."

His gentle gaze turned downcast for a moment, as though he were remembering a distant memory that was just out of reach. His hand came up to fiddle with the wedding ring on his finger again and Peter could feel his stomach drop at the reminder. When Mr. Beck finally spoke once again, his voice was still soft but carried a broken edge to it that had Peter's heart going out to him. "It was too much for Fury to ask you to just give her up like that. You… You don't just abandon your loved ones like that."

A bit of the tension in his shoulders released at hearing that. He was glad to have an ally in this - that at least someone from in that room understood where it was where Peter was coming from. "Oh. Well… thanks."

Mr. Beck raised his gaze and gave him a gentle smile, then clapped a heavy hand on Peter's shoulder. "A word of advice? I wouldn't be going around Venice in your suit…"

To further show what it was he was referring to, Mr. Beck nodded his head downward at Peter's chest, at the spider-emblem on his suit. Peter looked down at it as well, frowning in confusion.

"Why?"

The hand dropped from Peter's shoulder and rose so that Mr. Beck ruffled it in his hair near the base of his neck. "If what you say is true, then if the bad guys find out that Spider-Man is here in Venice, they might go even further underground with her- just so you won't be able to find where they are keeping her."

Peter stumbled back a step as this logical reasoning hit him square in the face. It was so simple… and a stupid oversight that Peter couldn't afford to make. Now, he found himself fortunate that he hadn't had the time to change into his spider-suit when fighting the water monster. And just hours before, under the blanket of night, he had been wearing his hoodie zipped up, covering most of the defining features of his suit.

If he had been more careless… then Mary Jane could've been-

His thoughts broke off.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Good point."

Mr. Beck dropped the hand that had been tangled in his hair and flashed Peter a warm smile. "I'll talk to Fury for you. To see if we can get you a new suit made while you're over here - one that is unrecognizable."

Peter didn't think that Mr. Fury would grant such a request. Not now… but Peter still appreciated the gesture.

"Thanks, I just- I feel like I've been making so many mistakes lately…" He couldn't help but draw in on himself as he said this. It was certainly true because if he truly knew what he was doing, he would've found Mary Jane by now. But, he had flown all the way to Italy first before he realized that he didn't actually have any sort of sound plan at all. The plan in New York was to simply get here - it was naive of him to think that everything would just work itself out as soon as he stepped foot on Italian soil.

A heavy hand found its way back to his shoulder and patted a few times in what was obviously a reassuring manner. Peter looked up, meeting Mr. Beck's compassionate gaze. "We all make mistakes. What really matters is what we choose to do after those mistakes are made and how we go about fixing them."

They were nice words… but how in the world was Peter supposed to apply them to his actual life? He felt stuck in between a rock and a hard place, unsure of which direction he could turn in order to escape.

"I'm not sure where to even start looking for Mary Jane… I feel so lost and-"

"You want some more of my advice?" Mr. Beck interrupted what was expected to be another rambling tangent.

Peter nodded. He would take any advice that he could get, especially from someone that was an established superhero - even if he was one from another world.

"I would take Fury up on his offer."

Despite himself, Peter felt his jaw drop as he gaped at the man. "Wha- really?"

It was the last thing that Peter had expected to hear him say. How would Peter going away to Prague help in finding Mary Jane?

Seeing Peter's apparent shock, Mr. Beck shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah. Think of it. A whole team of trained operatives with experience in undercover spy work? Who better than to help you achieve your goal of finding your girl?"

"But…" Peter blinked rapidly against how sound that logic actually was, "That would mean that I would have to do Fury's mission work. I would have to stay back from trying to find Mary Jane. I-I'd have to go to Prague-"

"You said that you already tried to use satellites to see if you could find any trace of her?"

Peter nodded again as Mr. Beck shifted his stance so that he stood slightly closer to Peter, hunched over him, almost in a way that was reminiscent of a coach giving an athlete directions for his next play.

"Then I'm not sure that you'll have any better luck in finding her than the satellites," Mr. Beck confided, which sent a frown to Peter's lips, "If I were you, I would take Fury up on his offer. Have Fury's men go out and search for your girl, all the while, you can check those glasses of yours every day to see if the satellites have caught any sign of her."

Peter paused, mulling it over in his mind. He almost hated how much sense it actually made. But there was still something within Peter that was holding him back… that fantasy. Of Peter being the one to rescue Mary Jane from the evil clutches of Lincoln's hired thugs.

The realization that this was one of the reasons why he was hesitant hit him square in the chest. How disgustingly selfish of him. Sure, he had already rationalized that rescuing Mary Jane was far from a vain motivation, but the way that Peter wanted to go about rescuing her certainly was.

Then again…

"But… Prague-" Peter couldn't help but stress, his eyes desperate as he glanced up to meet Mr. Beck's gaze. The hand on his shoulder squeezed Peter's flesh there, consoling without words.

"I'll do my best to delay Fury on traveling to Prague. We can easily do the planning for the mission here. The Fire Elemental doesn't show up in Prague until five days from now. If we stay here in Venice before then, you have the team of operatives to help you in the search for at least four days while you search continue your search as well."

There was nothing for Peter to say to that - no more arguments to make. All of the defensive walls that he had built had been toppled over with simple reasoning and rationale.

"I… T-That makes sense, actually…" Peter murmured to himself, dropping his gaze. But it was just loud enough for Mr. Beck to hear him. The hand dropped from his shoulder slightly to rest on Peter's bicep instead.

"It's up to you Peter on what you decide…" Mr. Beck said softly, "I won't lie when I say that I could really use your help but I understand that you have your own priorities to settle."

Four days. He could find Mary Jane in Four days, he was sure of it. Especially since he now had E.D.I.T.H. and a whole team working with him to achieve his mission.

He would find Mary Jane, that was a given. But he would also help to save the world from the Elemental.

He could do both.

Right…

Looking up at Mr. Beck, Peter gave a single nod. "Alright."

"Yeah?" A slow smile started to form its way to Mr. Beck's lips.

"I'll join the mission."

A beaming grin extended over Mr. Beck's face now. "Fantastic. You want to go tell Fury the good news?"

Peter nodded again and they both made their way back into the room in order for Peter to name his new terms in the renegotiation with Fury.

Somehow, he would find it in him to do both - He would find Mary Jane… all while saving the world in the process. Piece of cake, right?

It was a lie that he told himself as his palms perspired profusely.

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A/N: We totally trust Beck right? And Mark Watson is surely going to win a father of the year award, hmm?

Peter's # 1 superpower is actually his ability in reading people and their intentions. He can *totally* tell who is trustworthy and is not in the least bit gullible.

I promise that you won't have to wait much longer for what you are all dying to read (I shall not phrase it here, so you will just have to read in-between the lines as to what I am referring to). I just had to set the stage first.

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Please leave me a comment/review. Thanks so much for reading.

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