The building shook.

Peter opened his eyes. His room was dark. He blinked several more times, trying to decipher if he'd just imagined it. He shrugged himself out of bed and tentatively crept down the hall. Reaching the commons area, he was met by an empty room. Moonlight filtered through the windows, casting shadows across the ground.

The walls shook, paintings banging against the drywall. The chandelier swung and Peter shot out a hand to steady himself. Was it an earthquake?

"Peter." FRIDAY chimed from the ceiling, tone sounding urgent. "Tony would like you to lock yourself in the safe-room. I've opened the door for you. It is located in the laundry room."

"Wait, what?" Peter squinted at the AI's words. Since when was there a secret door in the laundry room?

"The Tower is under attack. I must insist you hurry."

Peter looked towards the hall. The laundry room was the first door on the right. He'd be there in seconds, safe from harm.

He started walking towards the elevator instead.

"The laundry room is located-"

"I know." Peter pressed the 'down' button. Nothing. He pressed it again. "Why isn't this working?"

"You need to go to the safe room."

"Ok first of all, I don't need to do anything. Secondly, I'm not gonna cower away while Mr. Stark and the others are in danger."

"Might I remind you that you do not currently possess any of your powers."

"No, you don't have to remind me, I know." He pushed the button once more in frustration. "Forget this, I'm taking the stairs."

It took him a few minutes to actually find the stairs. For as long as he'd been here, he hadn't actually done all that much exploring besides that first day. Finding the stairwell, he threw the door open and bolted down them. The building shook again, and he had to wrap his arms around the railing to keep from falling over. He's only gone down one flight and he was already tired. Thank Odin he didn't have to go up.

Reaching two floors down, he tentatively poked his head out. It was the floor with the lab. He may not have had his powers, but he still had his brain. With free access to chemicals and gadgets and whatnot, he could whip something up to help.

Something like….. Uh… A device or something?

Peter darted over to a cabinet, tearing it open. If there wasn't the imminent danger of the attack going on, Peter would've been like a kid in a candy shop. After years of literally dumpster-diving for parts, to have so many different parts and tools in front of him was like… woah. Anyway. There was no time for this.

Still, he couldn't believe he'd spent time in this lab just yesterday and hadn't thought to snoop through any of the cabinets.

Shaking away his mesmerization, Peter grabbed a whole bunch of stuff and darted to the nearest clear bench. He got to work, experimenting for a couple minutes before figuring out something useful and quick to make.

He worked as quickly as he could, mind and fingers going on auto-pilot. Every couple minutes, the building would shake and parts would roll off the bench. The whole experience was moving so slowly and quickly at the same time.

The sound of unfamiliar voices made Peter halt. His head snapped in the direction of the door. He heard the voices again, sounding like they were just down the hall. Panic overtook Peter's brain, flooding his legs with adrenaline and screaming at him to run. He swept all the devices he'd made into his pockets. It wasn't many, but it'd have to do.

Why were they coming to the lab?

Oh god.

They were after the vial that contained the foundation solution. That vial contained the compound needed to synthesize different test cures. It would take at least a week to recreate it. Peter liked to call it the 'mother-solution'. Like mother-dough? Get it? He was suddenly craving sourdough bread. Anyway. That must've been what the attackers were after; they were after the research.

Peter's eyes frantically scoured the lab. Where was it again? His eyes landed on the fridge. Darting over to it, he opened it. A small vial stared back at him. He scooped it up and pocketed it, closing the door.

Ok.

Now what? If only he had his goddamn powers. But he didn't, so he was stuck. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

The lab door screeched as it was forced open. A man stood there, looking at him calmly. He wore a purple cape and had a metal helmet on. Also he was old.

"Is that a hard-hat?" Is what spilled from Peter's mouth.

The man didn't react. "Who are you?"

"Uh… no one?"

"Then you are of no use to me." He waved his hand and a few sharper metal objects levitated, pointing at Peter.

"I don't think you wanna do that!" Peter cried, arms flailing in front of him.

"And why's that?" Oh boy, apparently Peter got a baddie who liked to talk. Phew. Or was that worse? This was Peter who the man was talking to afterall. "Because… uh… who else do you know who can do this?!" Like he was dissociating, Peter watched himself attempt to do the robot (terribly). At least that thoroughly threw the bad guy off, as he stared, dumbfounded at Peter. Finishing up his dance, Peter shot him with a wink and some finger guns.

Silence.

Peter swallowed. "You're really gonna kill me now, aren't you?"

The man didn't move, expression morphing into something unreadable, but the objects lowered back to their original places. "What are you doing here, child?"

"Ok first of all, I'm 18 and half. Secondly, I'm… doing… stuff. Why?- Actually, you know what? Out of the two of us, you don't get to be the one asking why I'm here!"

The man took a single step forward. Peter shot back, slamming into a wall behind him. He smiled cheaply.

"Why are Stark, Strange, and Banner working on a cure?"

"Uh… 'cause they're nice? The real question is, why're you trying to stop them?"

"I don't trust them. For all I know, they're going to sell it to the US government. If that were to happen, we would be eradicated."

"Sorry to break it to you, dude, but we're already dying."

The man's face changed, eyes narrowing. "We?"

CRAP. SHIT. FUCK. ha ha, whoopsies~

Peter felt his eyes shoot open as he realized his slip up. He tried to cool his expression quickly, but definitely didn't do it very well: the man had noticed. Helmet Head took another step forward. Peter pressed himself into the wall.

"A young mutant. Interesting."

"Uh… no?"

The man raised his chin, regarding Peter with a newfound interest. "They'll never accept you."

"Actually, I think they do."

"They cooperate with the US government who is responsible for this disease."

"They only cooperate when they have to. They're not the government's puppets or anything. They're working like crazy to find a cure. For us. For you. Even if you are jerks."

The man pulled up his sleeve. "Look at my arm."

Peter did. He saw some tattooed numbers. "Uh.. cool?"

"I was marked when I was a boy. It was that day that I learned the world will always hate. And it will hunt and slaughter what it hates. I was hunted for being Jewish and I am hunted now for being a mutant. You are too young to understand. But you will. They will hate you when they discover you. You can only hide for so long."

Peter crossed his arms. "Yeah well, I won't have to worry about that at all if you stop them from finding the cure and I die because of it."

"We have people and equipment at our base. So long as we get the groundwork, we will finish it."

"And what? Only give it to mutants who agree to join your cause?" The man didn't respond. He set his gaze. So did Peter. "You're not getting your hands on that research."

"And you believe you can stop me?"

Peter swallowed. "I- uh…"

"Stay out of my way." The man turned and started towards the fridge.

They must've been casing the joint, because he knew exactly where to look.

Peter couldn't let him see that the vial wasn't there! Uhhhh….. Peter snatched up a utility clamp. He launched it.

It clocked the man in the side of his helmet with a clang.

He stopped mid-step and turned around.

Every instinct in Peter's body screamed at him to run, but he stood his ground, fixing the man with a look that he hoped conveyed toughness. The man flicked his hand and a table smacked into Peter and pinned him to the wall. It pressed harder and harder into his gut and Peter double-over. He couldn't breathe. A squeak escaped him as he futilely tried to push the table away.

There was a flash of red and then suddenly the bad guy's attention was on something else. The table was let go of and Peter collapsed to the ground, sucking in a breath. His stomach hurt. It hurt so bad.

The man down at Peter. "You will not interfere."

He then turned away and Peter took the opportunity to crawl towards the door, hand wrapped around his midsection. Blinking stars away, his eyes landed on Tony, in his Iron Man suit, who had been launched into the far wall. The baddie's attention was fully on him instead of Peter.

"Stark."

"Magneto, is it?" Mr. Stark pushed himself up. "The dumb fucking leader of the - what do you call yourselves again? The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants? Great name."

Oh that's who he was: that Magneto dude. Well, Peter finally understood why he was called that.

"You know me."

"Yeah, I know you're an idiot. I've been working my ass off to save your fucking boy-band and you attack me and my team? Real smart, jackass."

"You're harbouring a mutant. What do you want with him?"

Peter could sense his mentor go rigid. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"A token mutant to keep at your side to make yourselves look good? What will you do with him when the world turns on him, and, in kind, you? Toss him aside like trash? Or perhaps you'll work with the government to find a 'cure' for the mutant gene? Tell me, is that why you're keeping him here?"

"I'm trying to save him." Tony powered up his gauntlet. "And I'm not letting you stop me."

The baddie didn't flinch or anything. With a sweep of his hand, he sent Mr. Stark crashing through another wall.

He went over to the fridge and threw it open.

"No vial…" Peter heard him inhale deeply.

That was Peter's cue to run, he darted out. The hall was too long, he had to hide somewhere. He darted into one of the doors, locking it behind him. He was in an office. It was super organzied (so not Mr. Stark's) and had a bunch of notes on gamma radiation all over the place. This was Dr. Banner's office. Neat. Ooooo there were a bunch of his books on the bookshelf. Peter wondered if he'd let him borrow the-

Something smashed through the wall. Peter screeched. It looked like that same damn metal table. What a weirdly effective weapon. Magneto walked through the rubble. The vial in Peter's pocket suddenly weighed a ton.

"That's what you were doing here. Give it to me."

Peter scrambled around Dr. Banner's desk. "Uh… I don't know what you're…"

Bruce's desk moved, slamming Peter in the stomach. Peter curled over, but managed to push himself back upright. There must've been metal screws in the goddamn thing. God. Peter was starting to get annoyed at being attacked by desks and tables.

"If you won't give it to me, then perhaps I'll take you as well." One of Peter's electric shock devices floated out of his pocket and over to the man. "Your intelligence will be of great use to us."

Uh oh.

"He's not going anywhere with you."

The deep voice made Peter want to smile.

No, it still wasn't Thor.

But Nick was pretty cool too. Magneto's head turned, spotting the super-spy through the corner of his eye. Nick had a gun pointed right at the back of his neck.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you, you can't stop this bullet."

Oh shit. Ferromagnetism. That was Magneto's power: he could only control metal with iron in it - like nanotech. But most bullets were made of lead encased in copper. Oooooohhhhh.

"He doesn't belong with you."

"He's sick."

Magneto's face fell. His eyes snapped back to look at Peter who feigned a cheap smile. "Did I forget to mention that…? Ha ha, oops. My bad. Sure hope you didn't get close enough to catch it yourself."

He let go of the desk, effectively dropping Peter. With a sweep of his hand, he guided some concrete slabs (with rebar in them) behind himself just in time for Nick's gun to go off. He threw them in Nick's direction, but the man rolled out of the way, coming to stand adjacent to Peter. The slabs had taken out the rest of the wall, so it was completely open to the hall now.

Peter heard Tony's blast fire and the man came shooting back into the hall, tackling another mutant: a tall lady with dark hair and sharp knives for fingers. When she swiped, they were sharp enough to cut through Tony's armour. It was at that point that chaos pretty much erupted. A giant buff dude who was, like, ten feet tall with a red helmet came crashing up through the floor, yelling 'JUGGERNAUT' at the top of his lungs. Unsurprisingly, Bruce (who was in 'smart hulk' form) was on the buff man's tail, tackling him a second later. Stephen appeared immediately after, chasing a mutant who looked like he was part sabre tooth or something. The doctor was sending an array of yellow blasts at the mutant, each one missing by a fraction of a second. Magneto swept away to join the fight.

"Phew." Peter slumped in relief. "Thanks Nick- I MEAN FURY. Sorry."

The man shot him with an eye roll over his shoulder. "Why the fuck are you here right now?"

Peter smiled cheaply and pulled out a handful of shock devices from his pocket. "Helping?"

"You're in the way."

"You're in the way," Peter mimicked. "I mean- uh, sorry. Anyway, you want one of these? They send out an electrical blast that momentarily disrupts motor and cognitive function."

Nick took them all without a word. "Get your ass out of here. Don't make me fucking save you again."

Before Peter could sass him and get into even more trouble, the eyepatch man ran off, doing a couple ninja-style moves on the way probably just for show. Peter scanned his surroundings. Rubble was flying everywhere and the whole place shook. There were shouts of anger and pain coming from all directions.

Maybe his little shock devices weren't going to be as helpful as he'd hoped. But he did have the vial. He had to keep it safe. But he also couldn't just leave. That Magneto guy gave Peter a bad feeling. Peter couldn't leave Tony and the others to fight that guy all on their own. There must've been some way for him to hel-

Something made a noise beside him. Peter's head turned to spot a… man(?) stuck to the wall and staring at him with yellow eyes and skin, and a long frog-like tongue dangling in the air and dripping saliva. Peter briefly wondered if he ever looked that creepy - sticking to a wall like a creepy-crawler. He really hoped not. At least he never had a weird tongue - well, not visibly weird. He could make it sticky, but no one had to know that. Except for a couple people…

Peter reeled back. "GAH!"

"Little boy running away are you? You should stay and play, we'll have so much fun."

"Ok first of all, I'm 18 and a half, I'm a man. Secondly, ew."

The dude's face pulled back into a sneer and his cheeks hollowed out. The next second, a small ball of something came shooting out, headed right for Peter. Thank god, Peter still had a quick reaction time as human. He managed to dodge it before hearing a clang as the substance hit an exposed pipe just behind him. Casting a quick glance back, he saw a splotch of mucous-green stuck on the pipe. A couple strings hung off from the rest, swinging slowly.

"EWWWWW!" Peter cried. "That came out of you?! Oh my god! Go see a doctor, dude!"

"Little boy working for the enemy. A spy for Xavier?"

"The old bald guy that looks like Patrick Stewart? No."

"You can't lie to me."

"I can't? Huh, lemme try it out; how convincing does this sound: you're totally not the ugliest person alive."

The Toad-dude kicked Peter in the chest. He went crashing through the glass patio door, back hitting hard ground and glass raining down around him. Peter pushed himself up feeling shards bite into his palms and sticky blood on his skin. He backed up a step, feeling the cool air of the night breeze through his hair.

"Mutants who work for the enemy should be killed."

"Eavesdropping alert. Does that come from a history of knowing people are talking about you behind your back? I mean, can you blame them? You're, like, the living embodiment of mucus."

His eyes all but flared red and he leapt. Peter darted to the side, nearly slipping on the glass as he did. The Toad, meanwhile, landed gracefully on the balcony's railing. He spat his weird goop at Peter, forcing him to stumble even further away from the doorway: ie. his only means of escape.

Reaching down, the Toad picked up a long, shiny, and sharp shard of glass. He smiled wide, eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

Panic flared in Peter's chest.

"Uh, Mr. Stark…?" Peter dared a glance in Tony's direction.

Upon hearing Peter over all the chaos, Tony's head turned to spot Peter through the window. But the man was all the way back in the hall and blocked by a couple wasn't going to make it. Toad Dude was getting ready to pounce and there was nowhere to run and Peter could feel his body's energy sapping like water out of a cracked cup.

Like slow motion, Peter saw the mutant's muscles tense and then release, propelling him forward. His hand was raised and the shard glinted in the light of the moon.

Peter couldn't move.

A blur of black crossed through his line of sight and suddenly the Toad was falling from the balcony. And just like that, he was gone.

Peter blinked. "Cat?"

Bright emerald eyes shone against the dark background. "Hi Lover."

Quicker than he could process, much less understand, what just happened, her hand was around his wrist and she bound something over it. It was like a fabric cuff that had a cord attached to another one that was around her wrist.

"Wha…?" Peter started.

Felicia grabbed his collar then bent over backward, right over the railing. They tipped over it and were free-falling in an instant.

Peter screeched. Like, literally, screeched. His free hand scrambled to clasp at the cord connecting him and Felicia, all but digging into it with bony fingers. "WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"

"I'm saving you," Felicia called from a few feet above, one hand holding the cord and the other latched onto a grappling hook that was imbedding into the balcony that was now dozens of feet above them.

"NOW MIGHT BE A GOOD TIME TO MENTION I HAVE A FEAR OF HEIGHTS!"

"I've gotch you, Lover, relax."

"I WILL NOT!"

Using their momentum to swing them back towards the Tower, Felicia unhooked her grappling hook from the balcony above them. Peter's heart stopped. They were gonna die. This was it. Suddenly, Peter's body hit solid ground. Another balcony, this one half a dozen floor lower than the other one. Felicia landed next to him gracefully.

"Oh my god!" Peter was breathless, chest heaving and heart pounding so hard, he swore it was a second away from busting his ribcage. "Oh my god."

"We need to keep moving."

"WhAt?!"

Her hand was in his hair now and she peered down at him, an empathetic look on her face. "The Tower is dangerous. We can't stay here."

That got Peter's attention and he sat up. Big mistake. Blood rushed to his head, pushing at his temples and spotting his vision. He slumped back, catching himself with his elbows. "Cn't leave th'm…" he slurred.

"Take it easy. Here we go, up and at 'em." She helped him to his feet.

"Ugh."

"You ready to go?"

"Ready to… what?"

Welp, apparently to Felicia, that was a 'yes'. She took his hand and launched them over the railing, shooting her grappling hook. They swung, Felicia gracefully and Peter screaming like a lunatic again.

At the peak of their swing, she unhooked her grappling hook and re-launched it, swinging them again. At the low point of the second swing, she released, dropping them onto the roof of another building. They rolled, Felicia taking a hold of Peter's collar and guiding them into a seamless double-somersault-like-thing until she came to a stop on her back with Peter over her. Peter's hands shot out, propping himself into a lazy plank. Despite his knees being on the ground, the mere strength it took to hold up his upper body was too much. He felt like he was going to pass out.

No. He couldn't go to sleep. Not now.

"I've gotta help them." His voice was heavy with exhaustion and breathless and he was slowly sinking with each passing second. Felicia's hands found his shoulders and firmly pressed, helping keep him up for a little longer.

"There's nothing you can do, Lover." Her voice was gentle and oddly empathetic. "Come on. We're not far."

With that, she rolled back, sending them rolling into that same two-person somersault until she was upright and Peter was being hauled to his feet, wobbly as a- uh- a really good simile that he couldn't think of right now.

Peter cast his eyes back towards the Tower. From this distance he could see multiple holes blasted into the side of it, crumbling slowly and sending pieces of rubbled tumbling to the street below. Through one gouge, orange flames were visible, licking up the sides of the walls.

Suddenly Peter was being tugged away. Then just as quick, the ground was gone from under him. He slammed into the side of a building shortly after with a painful thud.

"Sorry, Lover. No way to avoid that one."

Peter didn't really care; he was more focused on the height. At least he'd managed to (sorta) keep his cool this time. He wasn't screaming like a crazy Taylor Swift fan anymore. His heart was still hammering in his chest and his palms were sweaty from clutching his death-grip on the cord.

"Come on, let's get climbing."

Peter tore his eyes from the ground far far below and looked up. Felicia was standing on the side of the building, parallel to the ground with one hand wrapped around the cord connecting them, and the other around her grappling hook, which was hooked a few stories above them at the top of the building.

Peter tried to get a footing against the side of the building, but slipped a few times. God, it was infuriating not having his stickiness anymore. Or strength. After a few tries, he finally got his footing and immediately almost lost it because of how tired he was.

"Almost there, Lover, you're doing great."

Peter muttered something slurred and along the lines of 'your butt is great'. Just kinda slipped out.

Felicia chuckled and tugged at the cord. Peter took an agonizing step. He was soooooooo tired. Like holy heck. Three steps later, his footing was starting to slip, but before he could fall back completely, an arm hooked around his mid-back. He let some of his weight fall against the arm.

"Another step, here with me, here we go. There you go. One more. And another. You're doing great, Lover, almost there. A few more steps. Another. Here we go."

She continued talking to him until they crawled over the edge, coming to a slanted roof. Peter wanted to scream as he dropped on all fours, clawing one hand in front of the other up the slant.

He had no idea where he was even going at this point; he was just blindly following Felicia, who gave the cord a gentle tug each time he stopped moving. After decades of crawling, Peter reached the top of the slant. Felicia sat on the ledge and Peter followed by flopping his mid-section over it. He blinked at the sight of a flat piece of roof hidden between this slant and another that was adjacent to it. The flat piece had an awning sticking out of the adjacent roof, held up by a couple of metal beams.

Felicia dropped down the seven-ish feet. Peter whined as she tugged at the cord, effectively pulling him over the ledge like a worm. Honestly, he couldn't even care to worry about face-planting into the ground, which he was definitely going to do.

Instead, Felicia caught him, full-on catching him by the armpits. Peter's face was pressed against her shoulder, in some of her hair. Her hair smelled nice, like coconut.

He told her that.

She chuckled and said he was adorable.

He smiled and said she was adorable.

Adjusting him, so he was leaning heavily against her, but upright, she started hauling him in the direction of the awning. There was a little set up under it with a couch, a rug, a couple of decorations, and a coffee table. Also there was a string of fairy lights.

It was so prreeeetttttyyyyyy!

"Is th's a sex thing?" Peter jangled his cuff and the cord. Felicia gave him a wicked grin. He smiled, head bobbing. "You 'nd I are like hot water and m'gnesium."

Black cat rolled her eyes and traced a finger down his jaw. "Explosive."

A big dopey grin carved into Peter's face. "I love how you get me."

"You forgot you need a flame or catalyst, Lover."

"N' I dn't. Your butt is on fire." Felicia chuckled a lot at that. Peter chuckled too - more deliriously, though. Also, he was barely even conscious at that point. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course, Spider." Felicia grunted as she shrugged Peter off and onto a couch. He fell into it with a soft thud, legs hanging off of it. She picked them up and set them on the couch. She started taking off their cuffs.

"I think I'm attracted to Thor."

He heard her pause then just as quickly chuckled lightly. "Is my Spider bisexual?"

A grin carved into Peter's face and he attempted a shrug, but he couldn't tell if his shoulders actually moved. "May-be."

"I knew it."

"No way." Peter's eyes were still closed, but he could hear her smile.

Felicia's hands hooked under his right side and pushed him farther into the couch. A weight set itself down on the available portion of the couch, pressed close to Peter. Peter lazily flopped an arm around Felicia, and rolled to rest his head on her chest.

"You're too good to be straight."

Peter breathed out his nose in amusement. "I like you more than Thor."

"And I like you more than everyone."

"Will you peg me sometime?"

A moment passed and she chuckled - she'd been doing that a lot. "Anything you want, Lover. We'll talk about it more when you're not slurring your words." He felt her fingers brush a strand of hair out of his face. A warm kiss was planted on the tip of his nose. "Rest, Peter."

He snuggled in close, feeling warm and content. Letting out a breath, he let his mind succumb to sleep