Natasha held up her cellphone, and showed the screen to Tony. On it was one of the paparazzi's pictures from last night.

The headline said:

Peter Parker: The Man Behind The Mask.

"Dear god," Tony whispered "Dear god."

"What're we going to do?"

Tony snatched the device out of Natasha's grasp, and scrolled through the article. His heart sank as the words absorbed into his system. Apparently, Peter's constant presence around Tony led people to believe he was the elusive super hero.

He looked back up at his team. Natasha was wrapped in a bathrobe over her pajamas, her red hair tied up in a bun on the top of her head. Rhodey and Vision were both dressed in grey sweat pants and t-shirts.

Tony turned to Peter, who was fidgeting with the strings hanging from his navy blue sweat shirt. He then reached out for his notebook, and split it open in the middle. Then, he slammed it shut, and threw it back onto the island. Peter reverted his gaze to Tony, and chewed his lip nervously. His hands were shaking, making it hard for him to concentrate.

One of his greatest fears came true

All eyes were on Tony.

Tony set the cell phone back down on the island.

He didn't know what to say . . . Everyone was looking up to him. Usually, the rest of the team fought and argued over who was in charge, particularly when it came down to him and Steve. However, after the split, it was between him and Natasha, yet they were all counting on him now. He was the one with a lot of experience with the press; one that had been attacked by it for as long as he could remember. He gulped, making his throat feel extremely dry. He grasped a glass of orange juice on the counter, and drained it.

"Tony?" Rhodey question, wheeling closer to his friend.

Tony shook his head, and set the glass down. His friend's intense stare scared him . . .

"I—I don't know—I don't know what to do!"

Natasha sighed, and covered her face with his hands. Vision looked down at the floor, while running his hands up and down his arms. Peter sat as still as a statue, and stared at the cover of his notebook. His face seemed paler than ever, and his hands stopped shaking. He seemed as if he was asleep. Tony took a deep breath.

"I'll—we'll—figure something out. I swear. Peter, look at me."

The teenager looked up, his eyes glassy and void. It was almost eerie to look at him.

"Peter."

Tony walked over, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Peter shuddered, and dropped his head on Tony's shoulder. He was terrified . . . In a totally un-Peter like way, but that wasn't what mattered right now . . . What mattered is that the team—The Avengers—had to fix this somehow. Although the article was only in a tabloid magazine, anything suggesting Spiderman's identity got national recognition, and unlike the other previous accusations on other people, this one made sense.

"Peter, we're gonna fix this."

"What do you suggest?" Rhodey asked, leaning onto one of his arm rests.

"I don't know yet."

"Maybe we could release a statement," Vision said.

"That doesn't prove anything. Of course they expect us to deny Spiderman's secret identity," Natasha added, crossing her arms.

"It couldn't hurt," Rhodey replied.

"The press will just read into it, Rhodes!"

Rhodey huffed, glaring at the assassin. Vision shifted uncomfortably.

"I think we need to release a statement. Rhodes, you think you can write it?" Tony finally said.

Rhodey nodded.

"I think releasing something will show we have nothing to hide."

"But we do have something to hide," Peter said, sitting up again.

"It's an illusion," Vision replied.

"We do need to prove that Peter's not Spiderman. The statement will buy us enough time to figure things out."

Everyone nodded.

"Alright, let's get to work!"

Everybody scattered, leaving Tony and Peter standing by themselves. Peter stood up, and headed towards the door. To Tony, ever step he took seemed painful, like it was making every nerve in his body burn.

"Hey. We'll be fine," Tony said softly.

Peter turned around, and nodded. A reluctant smile spread across his face, making a flicker of hope spring to life inside Tony . . . He smiled back.

Peter took a deep breath as he held his phone up to his ear.

Aunt May had called him twelves times, and he knew he'd have to respond. He debated whether he should tell his beloved Aunt whether the article was true or not. Of course, he knew Aunt May would appreciate honesty, but she'd be hurt, especially since he didn't tell her when all of this first started. She'd be angry that Tony was involved also . . . She didn't trust him a whole lot at first, even though she set that aside for Peter's sake.

Obviously, she'd still allow him to fight with the Avengers.

Right?

The phone barely rang before Aunt May picked up.

"Peter!"

She was heaving, as if she'd run a long distance. Her voice was filled with worry, confusion, and, much to Peter's chagrin, disappointment.

"Hi Aunt May," Peter whispered, pressing his phone closer to his cheek.

His heart was beating a mile a minute, and in a way, he could sense her heart beat also.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Oh—um—yeah, I guess so."

Silence. He could still hear her breathing.

"Peter?"

"Oh—um—what? I'm still here."

"Good."

He could tell what question was sitting on Aunt May's lips . . . How couldn't it? Peter bit down on his tongue, accidentally drawing blood. The metallic taste floated around his mouth, so he swallowed, trying to get the sensation out of his mouth.

"I—I know what you are going to ask, Aunt May—"

"Yeah?"

"About that article. I know it seems really suspicious and I really want to explain. See, truth be told—"

This was the moment.

Peter's mind swirled round and round, desperately trying to come up with a solution. Images of Uncle Ben flew up into his vision, sending a painful pang throughout his body.

"Peter?"

"I'm—"

"IS THAT AUNT MAY?" a voice practically screamed.

In a split second, Peter's phone disappeared out of his hand. The familiar presence that usually came along with Tony greeted him.

Every time Tony was near, Peter could feel it . . . The same way he could sense when Gwen or Aunt May was near. Yeah, maybe it was his spidey-senses, but Peter imagined it was some kind of attachment—an empathetic one—to all the people cared about.

Or maybe he was just crazy.

"May? May! Hi, it's Tony Stark! Yes. Yes. It's me. I just wanted to clarify something about the article. It's those damn paparazzi, always sticking their noses into places they shouldn't. I mostly feel bad for Peter—Yes, I do—People now think he's Spiderman when he's really not."

Peter jumped off his bed, and stared at Tony. He waved at Peter to sit down, a frustrated look on his face. Peter obeyed reluctantly, silently praying that Tony wouldn't dig himself a hole six feet under.

"Of course he's not Spiderman! No—No—Peter is an intern, and is helping the United Nations and myself work on ways to advance the Avengers in a way to benefit the safety of the citizens of this word."

To Peter, this sounded extremely wordy and slightly ridiculous, but he went along with it. As Tony spoke, Peter's mind was made; he had to keep Aunt May safe by withholding the truth for a little while longer. He didn't realize that when he decided that the time was right, she'd be furious for not lying once, but twice.

"Yeah, Peter is a little disturbed by these accusations. He seems . . . in a daze—Of course!"

He handed Peter's phone back to him, and winked.

"Aunt May?"

"Mr. Stark explained this whole situation to me. I want an answer from you though . . . Is the article true?"

Peter wanted to kick Tony. Aunt May pinned a lot of trust on Tony. Mainly because he was taking care of her precious nephew. If Peter admitted the truth, Aunt May wouldn't trust Tony anymore, which meant she'd make him leave. He'd have to give up the Avengers. Currently, the team was short on members so his lose might be detrimental, hurting both the world and possibly himself.

Sure, he'd be living in Queens again, so he'd be close to Gwen, but deep in his heart of hearts, he knew he couldn't take that. Being Spiderman was who he was; it was his identity. Aunt May and Uncle Ben always encouraged him to stay true to himself, even if it sounded cliché. Peter tried to live by that. Yeah, he'd really screw up and do something that he knew wasn't right, but in the end, he'd always pull back to the old Peter . . . The one that got bit by that radioactive spider almost a year ago. The one that wanted to make a difference in the world.

He'd be a liar though.

I'm already a liar. I doubt I can make it any worse by lying again.

"The article is bullshit, Aunt May."

Tony snickered and dramatically clapped his hands, as if he was praising the kid for spitting out a cuss-word.

"Okay," Aunt May finally said "I'll trust you."

"Thank you, Aunt May. Hopefully, I can come down soon. I miss you."

"I miss you too, Peter."

Aunt May's voice seemed tired, and maybe a little lonely. Peter frowned.

That was a consequence of him being true to himself . . .

"Bye," he finally said.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Peter hit the hang-up button.

"Did she buy it?" Tony asked, flopping back onto Peter's bed.

"I think so."

"Good—good."

Silence.

"So, I brainstormed a little bit and came up with a few ideas! Wanna hear?"

"Sure."

"So, we wanted to avoid having to throw you off a building with a power disabler to prove our point."

"You've made a power disabler?"

"Yeah. Duh. But that's not the point. So, here's our plan. We hold a press-conference where you give some long, boring statement about how you're not Spiderman and how Stark Technologies is great and epic and all that. A little advertisement wouldn't hurt. I—"

"Back to the point."

"Okay, so we use the spider formula to make another Spiderman and then we—"

"ANOTHER SPIDERMAN?"

"Yes?"

"WHAT? HOW?"

Tony face dropped. He seemed dazed, as if he didn't realize what he'd just said. He then sat up straight and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Tony?"

"Yes?"

"What do you mean create another Spiderman?"

"Uh—well—I'm not saying we have to, but—um—we could—potentially."

"Oh my god!"

"Sorry."

"Have you told the U.N.? Or Rhodey?"

"Don't you dare tell Rhodey!" Tony yelled, jumping up from the bed.

"How the hell did you make a Spiderman formula?"

"I might have—you know—harvested a DNA sample. Just—um—little stuff, y'know?"

"What the—"

"It's a good idea! That Spiderman goes out and saved the day. Y'know, stops a thief or something like that. The news station sees it and the blame is taken off you!"

"Who would you give it to?"

"I don't know!"

"Is the formula safe?"

"I tried it out on a monkey—which is currently dead. But not because of the formula! I might have given it Smallpox. Complete yet unrelated accident! I swear!"

"No. No! This isn't a good idea!"

"But it could work! It would also help out our shortage problem! Give the person an identical suit and it would distract the press from you. The person would be swinging around so they wouldn't get a good picture. If the U.N. gets all antsy about it, we'll just say the same thing happened to the new Spiderman."

Peter hesitated. Tony was on the right track . . . No statement or press-conference was going to do the trick. Everyone needed to see him somewhere, while Spiderman was doing something else. It also would help out with the Avengers shortage.

"You could train the new person!"

Peter sighed.

He didn't want to think right now.

He was tired of thinking.

So, against his better judgement, he said: "Fine."

"YES!"

"Who're you gonna get to be the new Spiderman?"

Tony frowned and rubbed his chin methodically. He mouthed a few names to himself, as if he was thinking if they'd be willing to play the part. Suddenly, his face lit up and he dashed out of Peter's bedroom.

Peter stared at the door way, completely flabbergasted.

"Everyone please head to the conference room," Happy exclaimed over the speaker.

Peter glanced up at the ceiling, and shrugged.

Right now, he didn't give a damn.

"I have an idea!" Tony exclaimed.

Everyone stared at him quietly.

"Okay, don't want to ask 'Oh my! What is it?' Fine! I'll just say."

He turned to Rhodey, who was sitting next to him.

"I know you are gonna hate me for asking, but I really need you to do a big favor for me! It's really practical and doesn't involve creating an AI that wants to destroy the world! I swear! It'll be good. Peter likes the idea! Just please say yes! I'll—"

"Tony, just say your idea," Rhodey cut in.

"I need to see Jessica. I really, really do."

Author's Note:

I am so sorry I haven't updated in a while! I've been so busy and stressed, so I needed some time to relax and work a little on my original stories.

Yeah, I know it's another cliff-hanger! I promise I'll get to all your ideas, but I really want to get this one out of my system before moving on.

Brownie points to anyone who knows who Jessica is. :)

Two more things:

Should I change this story's rating to a T? The character do cuss, and I want to make sure I'm in the correct rating.

Last but not least . . . I need ideas for a mission. I thought of another rescue (See "Total Eclipse of the Heart" chapter) but I want to do something different. Ideas are welcome!

Thank you so much for reading!

Much Love,

gotmoreissuesthanvogue