"Jessica Jones. Really?" Ellie's eyes were wide, her gap-toothed grin was wider still. From the askew bow in her dark, bobbed hair to the trailing laces on her glittery pink sneakers, she was very nearly vibrating with excitement. "She's amazing. And she can fly!"
Behind his mask, Peter grinned and nodded enthusiastically, then drew back in heavily faked offense. "Wait, I thought I was the amazing one!" He strode to the wall, then up it, then to the middle of the ceiling, where he stood upside down with his hands on his hips. "Kids today, with their super heroes and their fancy alien invasions."
Ellie giggled. "You're amazing too, I guess."
"She guesses," Peter grumbled and dropped, flipping to a crouch next to the mattress they'd found in the mostly gutted apartment building they were hiding in. He'd carried it and a couple of broken-backed chairs into the apartment at the very top, while Ned had done something clever and probably really illegal to get them power.
They were safe - at least he was pretty sure they were safe - and the other squatters kept to the lower floors. Not ideal, but better than hiding out in the sewer.
When Peter first met Ellie, she'd been clustered at the windows with the other kids, watching Spider-man tumble through the air, or spin weird shapes in his webs. (He'd tried for dinosaurs, once, but would deny that under torture.) Everyone else ran off when the kitchen opened, but she'd stayed, completely entranced.
The next time, she had a few sheets of crumpled paper with designs for him to follow. Some were abstract, intricate and kind of beautiful. Mostly they were ponies.
He'd tried his best, but he was pretty sure most of the entertainment value that visit had come from seeing how incredibly, unbelievably bad he was at art in the medium of web fluid.
Today, he'd swung by, before breakfast as usual, and the suits had been drawing up in a small convoy of black sedans as he'd arrived. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, he'd wondered if they were there for him. When he'd found out who they were trying to take - there hadn't been a choice. He was pretty sure of that.
He'd grabbed Ellie, shrieking in delight, and swung away.
And he was almost, like, ninety percent sure he'd done the right thing.
Almost.
Karen had helped him stay below radar - maybe literally - and even found him the empty block of apartments to hide in, and then, yeah. He still refused to feel guilty about that and, anyway, he wasn't sure how you'd even give an AI a bunch of apology flowers.
May knew he was Spider-man, but this he wasn't going to involve her with. And Mr Stark he definitely wasn't going to involve. Which left him, the Spectacular Chair-man, and Jessica Jones. She hadn't actively laughed in his face (that much) or told him he'd done the wrong thing, so that was something. Probably.
Things were looking up, Peter told himself. He only had to worry about keeping Ellie safe while Ms Jones tracked down people who'd, hopefully, want to help. Oh, and also about the persistent buzzing in his ear that he'd been ignoring for the last five minutes.
Ned had managed to take Karen offline without interfering with the other functionality of the suit - it still sent out location and vitals - just, you know. The wrong location. And probably the wrong vitals.
Peter guessed Mr Stark had some questions, now he'd put it back on again. The buzz increased slightly in pitch, not enough to hurt, but more than uncomfortable.
Ned returned from the kitchen, carrying the takeout he'd managed to rustle onto plates - he'd even found some forks. Peter waved a hand for dinner to start without him, as Ellie rushed the crackers, and then crawled out the open window up to the roof. He crouched on the side and tapped the side of the ear mic.
"New number, who -"
"Funny." Mr Stark, did not, Peter thought, sound amused. "So, hey, why am I seeing news reports of Spider-man kidnapping a minor?"
"I didn't - I can see from the outside it looks a little kidnap-ey. But Mr Stark, I swear-"
"Stop talking. Where are you? Where is she?"
"I'm minding her while a friend looks for her guardians." Yeah, that sounded … more or less about right. "It's a huge, just gigantic, misunderstanding. There were these guys-" Peter stopped quickly, way too much information. Danger, Will Robinson.
Fortunately, Stark didn't seem to have noticed.
"We need to get in front of this before it gets any worse. And if I sound like Pepper, that's because she's standing in front of me with flash cards, reminding me I should be supportive and understanding, and not strap you into the next rocket going to Mars. Bring the kid to the Tower. The next words out of your mouth are, 'Yes, Mr Stark.' Go."
"Mr Stark, you're not even at the Tower," Peter pointed out. "You left, remember?"
There was a taken-aback silence, then. "Is this - are you acting out? I'm in upstate New York for chrissake, not darkest Canada."
"I'm pretty sure acting out is breaking curfew or something, not kidnapping. Which I'm also not doing," Peter added, in case the reminder would help.
"Then what are-" There was some hurried whispering - his hearing was good enough to catch it, but not make out the words. Pepper, he guessed. "She's just a kid," Mr Stark said more calmly after a pause and, Peter suspected, through gritted teeth. "You're just a kid. At least tell me this 'other friend' is a responsible adult."
"She is absolutely an adult, Mr Stark."
"You know I can shut down the suit, right? Ned's not that good. But tell him I said 'hi.'"
"I know. I know that. But. I'm hoping you'll trust me instead." He thickened his voice, just a little. "This time."
There was a long silence. "I'm not sure whether to be impressed or offended you're going with emotional blackmail."
"I tried being reasonable, but it didn't work great - I quit the debate team when I started risking my life to save innocent people."
"Okay, stop - enough." Stark took a deep, and Peter hoped, calming, breath. "I thought you were ready to join the Avengers, and obviously there's a reason you don't want me involved, or you'd have asked. So, fine. Handle it. But if I see this going South, you will not believe how involved I get or how fast I do it. Say 'Yes, Mr Stark.'"
"Yes, Mr Stark. And, thanks. I swear I don't care you abandoned New York."
"Don't push it, and don't thank me, kid. You're just lucky I have a history of poor life choices and a fiancee I'd much rather spend time with than you. Do. Not. Escalate. And wake up Karen, because clearly adult supervision is required."
The line had barely disconnected when the earpiece buzzed again; Peter gave up any hope of warm pad thai.
"Peter? Peter. Thank God!"
"Oh. Hey, May." He was pretty please he managed to sound both calm and, he thought, upbeat. Everything was totally under control.
"Don't you 'Hey, May' me - why the hell is the news telling me Spider-man kidnapped a child?! "
She sounded significantly less calm and upbeat than he did, Peter had to admit, and it was pretty unlikely Ms Potts would have his back this time. "It's Ellie. I told you about her? I'm just looking after her for a few hours until her guardians get here."
"Ellie." May subsided, a little. "She's the one who sounds like birds?"
"She doesn't sound like birds, she makes bird sounds. And other stuff. But that's - bad people were coming to take her."
"So you took her instead. Of course you did." Now there was definitely more resignation than anger; Peter decided to call it a win. Or at least a solid draw. "Where are you both?"
"At that old apartment building a couple blocks down from that bakery that has those claws you like. It's safe. Ned's with her right now," he added, on the off-chance that helped his case any.
May's tone sharpened, so probably not. "Ned, told me five minutes ago you were sleeping at his place, Ned?"
"Yeah, but I think he's just going by Spectacular Chair-man now."
"Right." Peter could practically see her pinching her nose. "Where is Stark?"
"Mr Stark's… you know, we're cool. He trusts me to handle it."
"Peter Benjamin Parker."
"Really! I mean. For now." He nudged a chipped off piece of brick with his toe, before kicking it into the shadows of the roof ledge. "And I have a plan. I promise. This will be over really soon."
The adrenaline of the day was beginning to wear off; he was kind of hungry, kind of cold, and mostly tired.
May's tone softened, like she heard it. He hoped she hadn't. "Just be careful, okay. It's not just … just creepy flying guys, now. If people think you kidnapped a kid, no one will help you. The cops will be after you. They don't know you're a kid. Be careful. I love you."
"I'll be careful, I promise. I'll call. Love you, May."
It seemed very quiet, when the line went dead.
Peter crawled back down the outside of the building and in through the window, to find Ned asthmatically telling a stuffed bunny that he was its father, to Ellie's rapt audience of one.
"Dude," Peter hissed. " Spoilers."
-o o-
"I know our resources are a little thinner than they used to be, but, really?" Phil looked at his team, gathered around the mission table. "We couldn't track someone swinging from building to building in red and blue spandex? Because that seems like something we should be able to track and, honestly, I'll sleep a little less soundly tonight if we can't."
May huffed dismissively. "Like any of us sleep."
"The suit's got a little more going for it than you'd think," Fitz said, quietly, not looking up from his data pad. "I'd say StarkTech. Closer to what's in the armor than anything on the market."
As it was the most he'd said all day, close to as much as he'd said all week, Phil didn't press for further details. "Makes sense," he said instead. "Spider-man was in Berlin. Stark souped him up a little."
Daisy stared thoughtfully at the still image: Spider-man against a bright blue, almost cloudless sky. Web line in one hand and screaming young girl in the other. It was practically the same image that had found its way into the evening editions and local TV stations. "But if he's playing on Stark's team, why get in the way of government agents?"
"Given the circumstances, maybe he thought they were bogus," Mack suggested. "That or he decided the Accords didn't extend to children - either one would be pretty understandable."
"So Elle's in the wind and the poster boy for the Accords is still upstate. I guess he's doing the smart thing and- "Phil paused. "Even as I say that." He turned. "We're sure Stark's still upstate?"
"If he isn't, we won't be the only ones he fooled." Jemma half-smiled. "Wherever he is, he mostly seems to be amusing himself calling into any local radio stations running anti-Spider-man stories and questioning their intelligence. Amongst other things."
Phil grinned. "And there's the Stark we know and never talk to, or interact with, in any way."
"You realize there's no possible way he can still think you're dead, sir," Jemma pointed out. "Especially after the last year."
"Yeah, but it's kind of our thing: completely ignoring each other's existence is how we show we care. And it's cheaper on holiday cards too. Besides, as tenuous as S.H.I.E.L.D's position tends to be, the bigger the distance between us the better."
"But he wouldn't be staying out of it if he didn't think Spider-man was right," May pointed out. "Which means he doesn't realize the agents were sanctioned. Once informed, and given orders, he's required to act. We have no more than two, perhaps three hours before Ross gets a green light - we're running out of time."
"I think," Daisy said, thoughtfully. "I think, Spider-man would have talked to us if he could have. He didn't throw any punches, he just got Elle out of there as soon as the fighting started." Daisy shrugged. "If we can't find him, maybe we can let him find us. We might be able to open a dialogue."
Phil nodded. "It's the closest thing to a plan we have - get it done."
-o o-
"If you're just joining us, this is Trish Talk and we're discussing the recent alleged kidnapping involving Spider-man and a young girl, now named by authorities as Elle Iwamura. I know we have a lot of people talking about this, a lot of concerned voices. Before we go on, again, please dial five-five-five eight-two-four nine-oh-seven if you have any pertinent information to share with the police.
"Now, here's our first caller. You're live, welcome to Trish Talk."
"Hi, yes, first time caller, not remotely long time listener. Although I hear you have a huge demographic, so kudos there."
"Thanks." Trish bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing; as if Tony Stark's voice wasn't one of the most recognizable in the city.
"This is a non-event; there's nothing to talk about. Obviously, the kid was in danger and Spider-man pulled her out of the fire. She's fine. She's probably eating ice-cream right now, listening to bad - just, really terrible - Darth Vader impressions. I would guess. If I had to guess. There are far more important topics of conversation."
"Uh huh. Would one of those topics be the recently announced engagement between Virginia Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, and Tony Stark, ex-CEO and… huh." Trish tapped a pen against her lip, pretending to think and making that clear in her syrupy tone as she went on. "What exactly does Tony Stark do? He seems to have a lot of time on his hands right now, for instance."
"I'm going to go with genius, billionaire, philanthropist and - it turns out - unwilling florist. Did you know there are forty-thousand different breeds of orchid?"
"I did not know that." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the switchboard controller, Megan, frantically gesturing for her to wind it up. She smiled sweetly. "But I would love to hear about each and every one of them, and I'm sure everyone listening would too."
She had a brief second of warning, seeing Megan wince, before static filled her own ear-pierce. It died quickly.
"Hi," said a new voice, this one female, and not one Trish recognized. "Also a first time caller. Big fan of orchids, had to jump in here."
"How did you-" Trish started.
"Hey, look at that, it's the other team on the field. You're not British," Stark interjected. "And you haven't threatened anyone, so I'm going to say … Skye? We've never formally met, but have you ever considered getting into landscaping?"
"I prefer Daisy, and rock gardens aren't really my thing. Let me know if you ever need any rubble cleared, though," she added, tone acidic. "There always seems to be a lot of it around you."
"Okay, small talk's over." Stark sounded, not angry, exactly, Trish thought. Defensive wasn't right either. Frustrated, maybe? "Let's skip to the part where I remind S.H.I.E.L.D. it's in the penalty box. Stay there, boys and girls, or this gets bigger than anyone wants."
"Hey," the woman who'd called herself Daisy said mildly, very nearly sounding amused. Or perhaps mocking. "I'm just delivering a message of support to Spider-man, like before. If you look at it the right way."
"You know, I didn't always see eye-to-eye with Fury - no pun intended, kind of wish it had been - but at least when he was running things, the cryptic comments had a little originality. Layers."
Trish coughed delicately as the static on the line faded, and the switchboard finally managed to cut Stark off. "So, we've had a lot about politics and a little about orchids - next caller, what are your thoughts?"
"I think the first caller was completely wrong," a woman said, with a note of righteous zeal. "There's no way there's forty-thousand breeds of orchid. Thirty-thousand, max."
God, Trish loved New York.
-o o-
"It's Ross again." Pepper held the phone, hand over the receiver, and tilted her head. "Which one this time?"
Tony smiled thinly. "Lady's choice."
"Third from the right," Pepper called as she drew her arm back and pitched the phone out the open window.
Tony watched it arc majestically into an oak. "Wow. You ever considered going professional? Because I'm telling you, kid - you could have a real future."
"Does it involve a honeymoon that isn't on the Raft?" Her expression was flatly unimpressed; Tony wasn't fooled.
"We'll ask if they have a baseball team," he said, and kissed the smile hiding at the corner of her mouth.