After the… incident, the only place that felt like home was the NYC sky.

Swinging through the air, limited by nothing but himself, Peter felt good. He felt free. Despite the fact that it was technically this that ruined his life, he couldn't help but smile as he put on his webshooters and pulled himself up.

For the most part, the people of New York loved Spider-Man. The people of Hell's Kitchen were no different, shouting greetings and waving as he flew by.

After Mysterio, pretty much everyone hated him. People would boo and throw things whenever they saw him. They would harass a teenager just because of what Jameson said. It still felt weird that no one knew who he was now, but at least now they were more positive about him. No one tried to hurt him.

At least, no one without an agenda tried to hurt him. Cause there were definitely still people who hated Spider-Man, but they at least had a reason, shitty as it may be. No one hated him just because of who he was. It was probably the first time in his whole life where no one had any strong opinions about Peter Parker. He wasn't sure whether to be grieving or grateful for that.

Right now, though, absolutely none of that mattered. Right now, he's Spider-Man. The friendly neighborhood hero that New York sorely needed. And right now, he was going to do what he always did; help.

At first, there wasn't a whole lot of actual crime for him to take care of. There were some petty thieves here and there, but nothing that took more than a couple minutes for him to fix. Occasionally, some people needed help with simple things like directions or finding their phone. Mostly, Spider-Man just swung around the city, trying to keep his mind off of work. Off of Ned.

Something was definitely wrong. Was he in danger? That shouldn't be possible. Ned didn't know Peter's secret identity anymore, and the only reason he was in danger before was because he was Spider-Man's guy in the chair. Everything should've been fixed when the final spell was cast.

Maybe someone figured it out? Knew that Ned once worked with Spider-Man? No, that wasn't possible either. Just a couple of hours ago, Peter confirmed that even his lawyer's extensive notes didn't give away who he was. If that didn't slip through the cracks, then nothing else could've. The connection between Ned Leeds and Spider-Man was completely severed everywhere but in Peter's memories. Not even pictures of them survived. So how could Ned have run into trouble that would require him to get a superhero lawyer?

It was scary, disturbing even. If Ned was down bad like this, then what about Happy? What about MJ? Was it possible for the spell to be undone? Was everything that happened all for naught? Was the universe in danger again?

The sound of a car hitting something metal broke him from his spiral. Spider-Man looked down from the building he was crouched on top of to see that a car hit a fire hydrant head on. The airbags in the car were deployed, and water was spilling everywhere. He jumped down, swinging himself over a streetlight before hitting the pavement.

Just as he touched down, the driver side door of the car opened, and a man fell to the pavement. He had one hand clasped to the side of his head. Spider-Man knelt down next to him. "Are you alright, sir?" A few feet away, he heard a couple bystanders calling 911.

The man looked up at him, confused and disoriented. There was a stream of blood running down his face, and the palm of his hands was painted red. He blinked slowly. "… Spider-Man?" He asked quietly.

Peter looked at him carefully, assessing his injury as best as he could. He didn't smell any alcohol nearby, so he was pretty certain the man had a concussion. Briefly, he peeked in the car, and yup; this guy hit his head hard on the dashboard. Must not have been wearing a seatbelt.

"Don't worry, sir. You're going to be okay. I just need you to stay awake, alright? Just focus on me," Spider-Man ordered. The man reacted with another slow blink. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll be right back."

Before the man said anything - honestly, he probably wasn't going to speak anyway - Peter stood and reached into the car, throwing it into neutral and taking the keys out of the ignition. He dropped the keys in the driver's seat and got back out, checked on the driver again, and rounded to the front of the car, pushing it away from the fire hydrant.

He got soaked as he pushed the hydrant back in place, stopping any more water from getting onto the street. It was still basically winter (that damn gopher hid in his hole this year), so the freezing air and the cold water from the hydrant wasn't a good mix. This was not going to be fun for him until he could get home and shower. He'd be lucky if he didn't catch a cold from this.

Luckily, though, there wasn't much else he needed to fix, and he could hear the sirens a few blocks away. Peter walked back over to the man, who was still focused on him. As Spider-Man knelt back down, the man's face shifted to pure confusion. Not a great sign.

"Don't worry, sir. The paramedics will be here soon, they'll deal with your concussion," Spider-Man got as close to the man's face as he dared. "Just keep focused on me until they get here, alright?" The man slowly nodded. "I need you to tell me that you understand. With your words, I mean."

"… uh, yeah. Sure thing, kid," The man shifted, trying to sit up. Peter threw his arm out to keep him steady. "Can I ask you a question?" He mumbled sluggishly.

"Um, yes?"

The man reacted a moment too late for Peter's liking, but at least there was a reaction. "How come some teen like you is doing this kind of thing?"

Spider-Man froze. "Huh?"

"I mean, you're a teenager, yeah? Some geeky kid at a geeky school?" The man asked, as if it was obvious. "At least, that's the shit Jameson's been pushing since July. Or, he was… until Halloween. Lately, though, he's been acting like he never said your name on live TV…" The man rambled on and on, just barely avoiding saying anything compromising about Peter's identity.

Just then, the ambulance arrived, and a couple paramedics hopped out of the truck. They both rushed to where Spider-Man knelt next to the driver.

"Spider-Man! Is everything okay?" The younger man wasn't starstruck at all. Either he was used to this happening thanks to the more street-level heroes that have been popping up, or he was too focused on his job to care. "What happened here?"

Spider-Man stood quickly, trying to shake off his nerves. "I was on top of this building when I saw the car swerve out of control and strike the fire hydrant. The man got himself out of the car, and I shut it off and fixed the hydrant," He gestured to the man, who the other paramedic was attending to. "He's clearly concussed. Sluggish responses, drowsiness, confusion, the whole nine yards. Even started spouting some bull about me being a teenager." He prayed that his voice didn't shake on that last sentence.

Either he did a good job masking his fear, or the EMT didn't care. "Is that all he said? I have to make sure it's in my report."

Spider-Man nodded. "Yep. He didn't say anything else."

"Got it. Thanks, Spider-Man." The paramedic knelt down next to his partner and joined in on the examination. That was as good a dismissal as any, so Peter aimed his webshooters up and left as quickly as he could without looking suspicious.

That can't have been a coincidence. It was impossible. One minute, he's thinking about the structural integrity of Strange's mind-erasing spell, the next… someone remembers. Granted, he didn't remember much, and it was through a head wound, but still. The fact that he knew Peter was a teenager hit too close to home. He'd have to do some investigating. Maybe run by the Sanctum Sanctorum and check with one of the sorcerers about the spell.

Would that be safe? Did Strange still know that he had to cast a spell? Or was he completely unaware of it like most people?

Peter had too many questions running around his head right now, and not enough answers. He had to figure this out. He had to-

His old watch beeped. Shit. He was about to be late for his GED class. As much as Peter wanted to worry about all this magic stuff right now, it would have to wait. Despite it all, time kept marching forward, and Peter really wanted to make sure he could go to college soon. He could do all of this after his course.

"Did you guys have to send him home?" Foggy whined as soon as he got off the call with Ned Leeds. "I still had some stuff I wanted to get him trained on today."

"Sorry, Foggy, but I don't want him around this stuff," Karen stated as she dropped a box on her desk. "I don't want him touching any of it with a 10 foot pole."

Foggy sighed. "Okay, but does this stuff really need to be done?" He leaned against the doorframe. "We shouldn't let the whole Castle situation take precedence over our firm."

"We had nothing else booked for the rest of the day, Foggy. And while this isn't the most important thing we have going on, it still deserves our attention." Matt said as he fished out his electronic reader. "We need to know what to do if and when he decides to strike."

"Don't you remember the times you guys actually fought? The many times he kicked your ass and nearly killed you? Hell, you probably would've died the first time if I hadn't gone searching for you!" Foggy stood straight and walked further into the room. He puffed out his chest, trying to make himself seem bigger. "The Punisher isn't someone we should be messing with at all, but especially not because you have a death wish, Matt."

Matt slammed his hands on his desk. "I don't have a death wish. I just don't want people killed."

"You mean you don't want bad people killed? You don't want criminals stopped?"

"So you support murder now?"

He scoffed. "I'm just saying I'd rather see a bunch of gang members or rapists killed than my best friend!" Foggy leaned over the desk, inserting himself into Matt's space. "You heard what he said; if you get in his way, he'll kill you. He's proven himself more than capable of that multiple times. If we don't get in his path, we don't lose anyone else. I'm not going to another funeral."

Matt cracked his knuckles. He could feel his face going red with anger. "Don't say anything about funerals to me, Foggy. You haven't been to nearly as many as I have. You didn't have to plan mine like I planned yours."

"As if I haven't been planning your funeral since the first time I found you passed out in your stupid red costume!" Foggy threw his hands in the air and stepped back, exasperated. Matt hung his head low. "Every single fucking time you put on the horns, I'm worried it's going to be the last time I ever see you! And with Frank fucking Castle back in the picture, that fear is so much closer to being a reality! We cannot do this!"

"Alright, boys, enough!" Karen slammed a couple thick magazines on her desk. "Foggy, your office, now! Both of you need to take a fucking breather!"

Foggy grumbled angrily. "Fucking Christ, Matty. I can't let you do this to me." He said almost silently as he left. Matt tightened his fist. Sometimes he hated his enhanced senses. He wished he never had to hear that.

Karen sighed, one hand rubbing at her temples. "Matt, will you be alright if I-"

"It's okay, Karen. Go." He said quickly and quietly, not moving from his position over his desk.

She nodded and quickly made herself scarce, shutting the door gently behind her. If Matt didn't know any better, he'd think that she was scared of him. That she thought the Devil of Hell's Kitchen was going to hurt her.

In reality, Karen was far more likely to strike him than he would touch her. She probably only left to make sure Foggy was alright, and to try and talk him down. Honestly, Matt couldn't be totally sure. When they bought this office space, they made sure to soundproof Foggy's office. He did always value his privacy, especially after he learned about Matt's abilities.

Matt sagged down into his chair, running his hands through his hair. A couple years into the Blip, Karen found a place that could make custom hair conditioners for sensitive people. Since Matt had been pulling double shifts as a lawyer and a vigilante, he had been insanely stressed, and one old habit of his was to mess with his hair. At that point, he'd begun pulling it out when he got really overwhelmed.

Karen ended up ordering him a bunch of that conditioner, which made his hair heavenly soft. It was easy on his sensitive fingers, and it didn't overwhelm his sense of smell. It stopped him from pulling out his hair, saving him from going bald. Karen offhandedly said that he'd look too much like Fisk if that happened.

Since then, one of Matt's go-to grounding mechanisms was to fiddle with his hair. Play with it, run his hands through it, braid the longer parts. He'd grow it out longer if he didn't hate the feeling of hair on his neck and shoulders. In any case, it really helped calm him down and reorient himself. It basically kept himself from going insane.

Matt would always be grateful to Karen for many reasons, but that was pretty close to the top these days. It was in these low moments that his soft hair kept him afloat.

Honestly, what was Foggy's problem with this situation? They've discussed this so many times before, he should be okay with it by now. Plus, Matt had an extra five years of training and fighting on Castle. Taking him wouldn't be easy by any means, but it wouldn't be the kind of hassle that Foggy's been imagining.

Plus, they weren't even doing anything about it quite yet. All he had done was pull out all their old files on Castle for a refresher. The path forward was always dictated by what laid behind, so this was far and away the best option to figure out what to do with the Punisher.

Matt wasn't just going to sit down and let Castle throw a tantrum throughout the city again. It was too dangerous. With his methods, there were always an insane amount of risks, especially to innocent lives.

Innocent like Peter. Matt would always feel bad for bringing that kid into this whole mess, but they sorely needed the help. And of all the people they spoke to, Peter was the only one with a genuine desire to help people. Odd as he may be, he was a good kid. And he didn't deserve to be put on Castle's radar.

Matt sighed, toying with his hair again. Before the Blip, in moments like this, Matt would turn back to his faith. Even through it all, he believed that God was still somewhere up there, watching what happened on the Earth. Whether or not He cared was a different story.

After what happened with Elektra, he'd nearly lost his faith entirely. As much as he believed God would save him, Daredevil completely consumed him first. There was no point any more. But Father Lantom wanted Matt to keep going, to keep believing in God and hope for his redemption. Matt owed Lantom far too much to deny him that final wish.

The Blip didn't help. He literally felt the entire world change in an instant. He heard as half of his city died, felt the air shift as their bodies disintegrated. That kind of experience, that intimacy with the apocalypse, was enough to shake anyone's faith, let alone Matt's.

But somehow, through it all, he remained devoted. Matt blamed his mother. They both survived, and she came knocking down his door the day it all happened to look after him. They got somewhat close in the first couple years, and she managed to get him back to the church.

The day she died, she begged Matt to maintain his belief in Christ. She desperately wanted her family to be reunited in Heaven, and the only remainder was Matt. He promised her that he'd see her and his dad again one day, and held her hand as she went.

It was hard. Almost impossible for Matt to keep it up. But he went back to church regularly, and prayed, and fulfilled the wishes of Father Lantom and his mother. Matt knew that God would always be watching over the Devil in him.

So, going through the motions, Matt clasped his hands together and leaned his head down. "Pour forth, I beseech thee, O Lord, thy grace into my heart; that, to whom the incarnation of Christ, thy son, was made known by-" He took a heavy breath in and out. "Look, we both know that you're not really the most involved with your Creation, so I'll be quick.

"Please give me the strength to look after Karen and Foggy. They're good people, and they don't deserve to get hurt because of my mistakes. Please give me the strength to quickly deal with Frank Castle, who threatens my city. He wants to hurt people, and I can't let that happen. Not again," Matt squeezed his hands even harder, cracking his knuckles. "And please, let me protect Peter. Despite what he may have done, he's just a kid, and he needs help. I believe I can help him. Please allow me to do so." He bowed his head even further. "In Jesus' name, amen."

Karen and Foggy were waiting outside his door. Matt dropped his hands and nodded to them. They cautiously entered the office, Karen with a hint of anxiety while Foggy exuded annoyance.

"I didn't realize you prayed anymore." Foggy said simply.

Matt shrugged and looked up. "I've found that it's a good coping mechanism, especially through the apocalypse," He stood and rolled up his sleeves. "Look, Foggy, I'm sorry for what I said. But the fact remains that Castle is still a threat to everyone, particularly us, and we're the only ones that can intervene."

Foggy sighed. "I know, and I'm sorry too. But it's incredibly dangerous, and I'm worried about you. You can't go swinging in there without any backup. Castle could easily make good on his threat."

Matt sighed. Karen hummed and scurried over to her computer.

"Everything alright, Karen?" Matt asked, confused at her sudden spike in heartbeat.

"Mm-hm," She hummed, typing rapidly on her computer. "Aha!" She laughed as she found her desired page. She waved Foggy over. "I know you said you're worried about Matt going in alone, but what if he doesn't have to?"

"Karen, what do you-" Foggy began as he started reading her screen. "Oh. Wait a minute. That could work."

"I don't know if you guys have realized this, but I can't exactly read that." Matt deadpanned.

Karen chuckled and approached Matt. "Foggy doesn't want you going into Castle alone, which makes sense. I wouldn't want you dealing with him on your own either. But there are so many heroes running around New York now! All with a bunch of different super powers!"

"So… a team-up?" Matt asked.

"We could easily call Jessica Jones or Luke Cage. They're still around, and they're both enhanced," Foggy sat down at Karen's computer, staring at the screen.

"We could even call Spider-Man!" Karen added. "We've worked with him, we know he's a good man who doesn't want to really harm anyone. Plus, he was an Avenger. He'd be a great person to work with, and I'm sure he'd be happy to help us take Castle down!"

Matt raised a hand to his chin, considering the idea. As much as he didn't want anyone else mixed up in this mess, he could see their point. Everyone in New York City knew just how much of a threat the Punisher was, and pretty much everyone had incentive to keep him from operating.

"So, Matty?" Foggy asked, looking his way.

Matt sighed. "It's not the worst idea. Let's go through the records first, then we can figure out who we can call."