Peter came to a stop on top of a grungy, run-down Walgreens on 234th. He tiredly made his way to the edge, taking a seat on the ledge facing out into an alley.
He sighed and flopped onto his back, his hands cushioning his head. The sky was dark, but the clouds brought grey highlights to it as they passed over the city. Peter sighed again.
"Is everything alright, Peter?" Karen asked, her voice pleasantly quiet in his ear.
"Yeah, Karen, I'm fine. 'M just tired." He propped himself up on his elbows so he was staring at the streets. "And bored. Who would've guessed Wednesdays are the slow ones."
"Do you want to play a game? I can pull something up if you want. Go fish? Checkers?"
Peter shook his head. "No thanks. Good idea, though. Maybe later." He pushed himself to his feet and paced back and forth just for something to do, balancing haphazardly on the very edge of the roof. It was hard to believe he ever had a fear of heights—of the fall, really. But falling wasn't scary, not anymore.
All of a sudden, a new screen popped up in his HUD, light green surrounding the image. Cotton filled his mouth and every muscle in his body tensed as he read the words, and the sick feeling only grew when Karen announced, "Mr. Stark is calling you."
Words stuck to his tongue the first try. He cleared his throat, ignoring the way his heart pounded in his chest. "Decline it. Please. Don't let him force it through, either," he muttered roughly.
Karen complied, the notification flashing red before sliding away. Not a full minute had passed before it was replaced with the same thing.
"It appears he won't take no for an answer. Shall I accept the call this time?"
"No!" he all but yelled. "No, just- just tell him I'm busy, and I-I can't talk right now."
"Are you okay, Peter? Your heart rate is too fast to be considered normal, and you seem to be having trouble breathing," Karen asked, voice quiet and concerned.
His legs buckled and he dropped into a low crouch, burying his face in his hands. "Yeah, I'm fine." A weak, unconvincing laugh accompanied him as he said, "Just tired, remember?"
Karen was silent, and Peter was almost positive she was staring him down. "Alright," she said grudgingly before her tone lightened into something lighter. "But if you want to talk about it at any time, I'm always here."
Caring, he realized. That's what was in her voice.
The tight grip on his chest loosened at that. Peter ignored the pinprick of tears as he pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes before lifting his head. "Love you, Karen," he murmured softly.
"I love you too, Peter."
He stayed there for a couple of moments, just trying to recover from his almost-panic-attack. When he finally got his breathing calmed, he rolled backwards and popped up on his feet. Peter rolled his shoulders out before pulling an arm across his body, stretching the muscle out that way, too. He took a couple of deep breaths just to prove to himself he could.
He jolted as another notification popped up. "Peter, it seems you have another call coming through."
A small smile darted across his lips as he read the name, and he didn't hesitate in asking her to accept it.
"Hi, sweetheart." Aunt May's cheery voice flooded through the speakers.
"Hey, May. What's up?"
"Just wanted to let you know work is sending me out again." There was a pause and the sound of rustling before she continued. "This time it's to New Hampshire."
Peter's smile dropped slightly as sadness settled over him. He did his best to shake it off; he knew she only worked overtime like this to provide for him.
"I hate to leave like this, especially since you're on break this week. I was really looking forward to some quiet time with you, kiddo, but it's only for a few days—nothing more than a week. But I have to leave soon and I don't think you'll make it back in time for goodbyes, so I just decided to call you instead."
He swallowed harshly, ignoring the disappointment in his chest. "That's fine, May, really. I'll probably stay with Ned for a while if I get too bored," he said as lightly as he could.
"Okay, sweetie, that sounds fine. Just text me if you do. I'll try to call as often as I can, yeah?" she reassured. May sounded regretful, and that just made Peter feel worse.
"Yeah. Have fun, May. Well, as much fun as you can have on a business trip without me," he joked.
She laughed at that. "I will, honey, don't worry about me. Just do me a favor, Pete—don't spend too much time out in the suit?"
A short pause followed as he between them as he read between the lines, hearing the don't get yourself hurt loud and clear.
Karen broke in softly before he could answer. "Peter, I hate to interrupt, but someone's running down the alley. It could be a situation that requires your full attention."
Peter blew a light raspberry. "May, I have to go," he said quietly. "Uh, something came up. Probably another mugger or something. Have a safe trip, I love you."
"Take care of yourself, sweetheart. Be careful. I love you too." The end of call tone beeped as the call dropped.
Peter twitched at the sound of footsteps charging down the pavement reverberating through the alley. He dropped away from the edge, slinking out of sight towards the middle of the roof. The steps slowed the closer the got to him and he peered into the alley. A flash of relief shot through him as he caught sight of the familiar face. As much of it as he could see, that is.
"Karen, is that- am I seeing this right?" He asked jokingly. "Is that the man himself, the one and only Devil of Hell's Kitchen, in Queens?"
Daredevil stopped in his tracks. He turned slowly to stare up at Peter, not saying a word.
"Well, the profile and heat signatures match. So does the apparent lack of manners. So I'd say yes, you are correct Peter."
Peter bit back a laugh.
"Yo, Double D!" he hollered and waved his arms at him.
"Don't call me that." Daredevil frowned and sprinted forward a few steps before stopping again.
Peter shrugged. "I like it." He hopped from one ledge to the next to keep up with the start-and-stop pace of the other man. "Who were those people from the other night?"
"I don't have time for this," he growled. It was a very intimidating growl. Too bad Peter grew up with a police officer.
Daredevil took off again, this time stopping at an alley corner a few hundred feet down. Peter followed behind him, not letting his attitude deter him. He watched demurely as Double D swiped two fingers over the ground before bringing them to his face, and Peter's nose wrinkled involuntarily as he watched him smell it.
"Okay, but while you're here… doing your thing," he said with a slight grimace, "I would really appreciate your help."
He was ignored. Daredevil straightened and turned in a slow circle where he stood, giving no sign he was paying any attention to what Peter was saying.
"I was looking for Kingpin. Not the- the ninja people," he blurted.
Daredevil froze. Peter jumped on the opportunity, thinking this was as close to listening as he was going to get.
"I have a- I have a source, and he told me Kingpin would be at that conference center that night, so I wasn't really expecting anyone else, even you. I'm trying to build a case on him, an exposé type of thing, since, you know, most of the general public seems to think he's actually doing good for New York when it's really the exact opposite. But whatever. I just, I wasn't expecting to see ninjas? And it seemed like you knew who they were, and it kinda seemed like you were expecting them. Expecting to fight them. Or you were looking for Kingpin, too, and my friend was just way off-base. I just need some help here, man, and it seems like you know what's going-"
His rambling was cut off when the other vigilante rushed off with no explanation. Very true to brand. Peter groaned exasperatedly, and then reluctantly followed via web-slinging. He was not giving this up. Without answers, that is.
Peter kept up the fast pace with relative ease, only losing Daredevil twice the whole trip. The pace eventually slowed down, and Peter came to a halt on a rooftop as his trackee finally stopped at some docks. Daredevil didn't seem too fazed by the long run, and he couldn't help but wonder if Double D was enhanced or just extremely in shape.
Peter could infer he was looking for something, or someone, and he got his answer when a nearby door banged shut.
A tall man walked into the dull lights, a crooked nose and a split lip obvious even Peter's angle. Most notably was the familiar white skull painted across the front of his tactical vest and assault rifle held loosely in his arms.
"Red." The Punisher greeted. He lifted the gun strap over his head and slipped it on before swinging it around his shoulder so it rested on his back.
Double D was silent.
"I'm not helpin', Red. If that's what you want, find it somewhere else. Got my own shit to take care of."
Double D growled at him. The Punisher didn't look impressed either.
"I'm serious, Red. Don't care what you've got goin' on right now.
"Come on, Castle. I'm not asking." He took a step closer, and Peter saw The Punisher's hand twitch towards the weapon on his back. Peter leaned forward slightly, his weight balanced over his toes in case he needed to intervene. "Whatever it is, this is bigger."
"Did you go fuckin' deaf, too? Said I got my own shit."
Too? Peter was thrown. Why in the world would he say 'too'?
Daredevil stalked right up to him and shoved him. Punisher didn't even budge. He just shook his head slowly, solidifying his whole "I'll help you over my dead body" stance.
Double D didn't like that.
"Asshole," Double D snapped.
"Criminal."
"Murderer."
"Liar."
"Psychopath."
"Hypocrite."
Peter watched the exchange intently, head snapping back and forth like he was watching a tennis match. Instead of hurling another insult at Punisher, Double D muttered something so quiet Peter missed it, but loud enough to set the other man off.
"Okay, you listen here, you son of a bitch," Punisher roared and marched forward, pointing a finger at Double D's chest.
That was apparently all the provocation he needed to take matters into his own hands, jumping on The Punisher and bringing him to the ground. He got maybe two punches in before Punisher flipped them over and landed a few blows himself. But Daredevil threw a hard right hook and knocked him off of him. The pair lurched to their feet, facing each other like boxers in a ring.
Double D attacked first, feinting left before doing some flip-spin-judo kick that sent The Punisher staggering back. He righted himself before hitting back hard in retaliation, fist connecting to the side of Daredevil's helmet with a loud crack.
Daredevil used the momentum of the punch to his advantage, falling to the side and sinking to the ground before rolling behind Punisher. He drove a hard kick above the back of his knees, snarling.
The Punisher stumbled forward, and when he turned back around to face Double D, a harsh, slightly feral grimace was set on his face. Peter rolled his eyes as The Punisher ripped the gun off his back and reloaded it. Typical. Daredevil returned the gesture, pulling something of his own from his belt and snapping it out. It was… a stick? Baton? Whatever it was, Peter seriously doubted its safety.
"Whoa, okay, alright!" Peter yelled and sprang to his feet, putting his hands up in a referee position. Both men looked up at him in surprise. "That's enough." From his spot on the roof, he shot a clump of webbing between the two. It stuck to the wall, exactly centered. It was as much as a warning shot as he would give. "I'm all for working out personal issues, but it should be with, you know, actual communication? Words? Ring a bell, anyone?"
They both glanced at each other like they couldn't even believe he was interrupting.
Double D cracked first, folding his baton in half and jamming it back in his belt. "Castle," He spat blood from the side of his mouth before gesturing to where Peter was perched. "Spider-Man. Spider-Man, this is Frank Castle."
Peter waved down at Mr. Castle only to get a frown in return. "Why'd'ya bring a fuckin' kid, Red, huh? Think this's some sorta joke?"
Double D scowled. "I didn't bring him. He's not a kid."
Mr. Castle quirked an eyebrow and stared up at Peter. He resisted the urge to shrink away.
"Whatever you say," Frank said sarcastically. He turned back to Double D. "I'm still not helpin'. And it seems like you got your own backup anyway." He tilted his head towards Peter. "What'd'ya need me for."
Daredevil glowered but didn't try to stop him as he stomped back to the building he came from.
Peter had to hold back his laughter. He looked like a kid that was just told no, he can't have a puppy because they already had one. And it peed everywhere.
"As much as I majorly disapprove, that was so cool," Peter said as he swung down. "I definitely didn't get to see much of that Sunday night. Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
"Long story," Double D said briskly and folded his arms over his chest.
Peter just nodded, accepting the horribly vague answer. "Okay, man. Cool. I respect that."
An uncomfortable silence fell, and Peter awkwardly pointed over his shoulder. "Uh, nice meeting you. Again. But I, uh, I gotta go, it's a school night and I'm already past curfew."
"A... school night," Daredevil repeated slowly.
Fuck. Peter's heart dropped to his stomach. He tried to cover his panic with a smile. "Uh, yeah, I- I just meant that-"
"How old are you?"
"Um, I go to college?" It came out more like a question than an answer.
"Yeah, right, kid. And I've seen Madonna in concert." Daredevil took a few steps closer, and Peter's back hit the wall as he tried to back away. "Try the truth this time. How old are you?"
Peter looked down, his face hot. "I turned sixteen a few months ago."
Double D stopped. Peter looked up to see him with his head cocked to the side, seemingly looking him up and down. He hummed in understanding after a minute. "And I'll guess people keep saying you're too young for this."
"You're not?" he said sharply, brow furrowing.
Double D shrugged. "No," he said simply. "You're still here, aren't you? Why should I think you'd listen to me, of all people?"
Peter stared. This was... new. A small smile crossed his lips slowly, and he nodded his head in agreement. "You're right, I wouldn't."
Daredevil smiled back—well, it was more of a mild upturn of the lips, something very MJ—but Peter was still caught off guard at how unnatural the expression seemed. The other vigilante seemed so doom and gloom up till then, both in the media and outside.
Peter climbed up the wall to the roof but so he could swing off, but he was stopped by a "Hey!" from behind him. He watched as Daredevil scaled the dumpsters onto the roof, but didn't offer any help. It'd been made abundantly clear that it would be rejected immediately anyways.
"Friday night," he said when he was on his feet in front of Peter. "Fogwell's Gym. 9:30. And how about that, it's not even a school night." He smirked. "I'll answer your questions, give you some tips. Bring the suit."
A wide grin split Peter's face. "Really?" he asked, already excited.
"Yeah, really." Double D awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. "You've got potential, kid. I just want to make sure you don't get yourself killed out there."
Peter beamed even harder at that, even though it sounded vaguely patronizing. "I'll be there." He saluted loosely before taking a running start at the ledge, jumping off catching himself with a web.
Karen said something about heading home for the night, and Peter was hoping on doing exactly that. There was nothing over the police scanners, nothing happening in the buildings or on the streets he swung over. He could take the rest of the night off.
He made it two blocks before he became aware of the vague feeling that someone was following him. He tried to dismiss it, but he couldn't completely ignore the low buzz accompanying him as he got closer and closer to his house.
Peter let go of his web a few streets from his house, tuck-and-rolling onto the pavement. He ducked behind a familiar dumpster and ripped his backpack off of the wall before changing out of his suit as quickly as possible, still on edge for a reason he couldn't quite place. He stuffed his suit into the bag and slung it over his shoulders, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he stepped onto the sidewalk.
He barely made it a few steps before the base of his neck prickled and unease slowed him down. Peter stiffened, his shoulders rising defensively as his senses sharpened, trying to pick out what was tripping his spider sense.
An instinct deep inside caused him to sidestep into an alleyway and quickly hid behind the corner of the wall. Peter flattened himself, pressing his body against the cold brick and breathing shallowly. His heart was beating so hard he thought it was going to burst out of his chest.
Not even seconds later, a dark, large figure stalked through the street. Peter's hands shook, his spider sense so overwhelmingly intense it nearly drove him up the wall. But something told him to stay still. That if he moved, he would be found. And that same something told him he didn't want to be found.
The figure prowled by the mouth of the alley, so close he could reach out and touch them if he wanted. A dull shine caught his eye as the figure extended his arm, and his breath caught when he realized what is was—a blade.
The person stopped abruptly, and every muscle in Peter's body froze.
His eyes darted down to where the knives were gripped between the figure's hands. He watched as the fingers flexed, tightening over the leather bases. He wanted nothing more than to turn and run but forced himself to stay stock still. Peter clenched his teeth, overwhelmed by the feeling that the person was searching—hunting—for someone. Him.
What felt like hours passed before the figure started again, continuing the silent sweep of the streets they were doing before. Peter stayed in the alley minutes after they left, trying to reign in his terror. His legs were numb, and he knew the only reason he was still standing was his hands stuck to the wall.
"Karen," he breathed. "Who was that?"
"I… don't know, Peter. I couldn't get a facial scan. I'm very sorry," she answered dolefully.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "They're gone though, right?"
"Yes, the person in question seems to have left the vicinity, but I'm afraid they're now located on the street in front of your apartment."
Peter exhaled sharply at that, eyes snapping back open as he had a mild heart attack. His mind was racing. Whoever that was, they had been following him. And now… now they were at his apartment. His home. The place where he and May slept at night.
God. May. Relief washed over him, and he was so, so grateful for the small mercy that was her leaving earlier that night.
Did they know his name? His face? Peter tried to be so careful about it. Could he really have made that big of a mistake? No, no there was no way. He could count the number of people who knew his identity on one hand.
And there was the possibility that the person didn't know his address, that they just knew the general vicinity. He couldn't risk giving their address away. He wouldn't put May in danger like that.
Peter had learned to trust his spider sense. And right now, it was telling him to get the hell away as fast as he can- and stay away.
Peter bolted out of the alley and down the road, almost slipping on a wet patch around the corner. He ran as fast as he could, a bruise forming on his spine where his backpack was banging against him. One, two, three blocks passed before he slowed down, panting as he looked up at a familiar apartment complex.
He burst through the doors and sprinted up the stairs two at a time. Peter made it up the three flights and was pounding on the first door on the left in the hallway in less than a minute. He knocked relentlessly as he caught his breath from the adrenaline-spurred trip.
Ned quickly opened the door, clad in his pajamas with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "Dude, what's going o-"
"Can I stay here tonight?" he interrupted, knowing he looked desperate. "Please. It's important."
Ned stared at him, slightly shell-shocked. But he snapped out of it fast, starting as he nodded his head. "Yeah. definitely. Here, come on in."
Ned stepped out of the doorway back into the Leeds' apartment and Peter brushed by him, padding through the door with his eyes downcast. "Thanks, man," he murmured and quietly made his way towards Ned's room.
He only relaxed when he heard the sound of the door locked and bolted shut behind him.