Peter

Queens, New York

The rest of the day dragged on at a painfully slow pace.

I called Aunt May from Battery Park and told her everything that happened.

She was sympathetic, but she reminded me that she really had no expertise in the superhero department. Mr. Stark offered me a ride home, but I opted for the subway instead. I was cut off from my one and only superhero connection.

There was nobody that could help me now.

May offered me dinner, but I could barely eat a few bites.

"Maybe it's for the better." May suggested as she sat down next to me.

I shook my head. "I can't possibly see how it's for the better."

She stroked her hand across my back, just like how she used to when I was doing breathing treatments with a nebulizer when I was little.

"I never was a field agent when I was at SHIELD." she said thoughtfully.

I looked up at her. Being a SHIELD agent was the second-best thing to being an Avenger. I never understood why May stuck with a boring office job, bouncing from different divisions within SHIELD.

May continued. "Yeah, I had basic training in weapons and in self-defense. They offered me a position as an agent before they asked Ben and Richard, but I turned it down."

"Why?"

"I just had a feeling I shouldn't. So instead, I took up a position in their Human Resources department. Counseling."

She traced her finger along the table's grains of wood.

"Espionage requires a certain type of person. It's a dangerous job with long hours, intense mental strain, and a thin line between good and evil. Even the strongest agents get worn down. With every agent that came into my office, with every story that I heard, I was even more grateful that I hadn't accepted the job."

There was a sad look in May's eyes that told me she had heard horrible things that she didn't care to repeat. I could picture it: torture, murder, betrayal.

I didn't know it then, but eventually, I'd become neck-deep in that kind of world in the worst way possible.

"Why do you think Stark acted the way he did, Peter?" she asked quietly. "He has too many regrets to let this one slide. You need to take a break from the hero life. You're behind on your school assignments, you barely get any sleep," She took a whiff of my hair. "And you really need a shower."

I squeezed May's hand, thanked her for dinner, and headed into the bathroom.

Now I realized that Mr. Stark didn't take away the suit because I had screwed up. He did it because he was worried about me. May was right. Mr. Stark did have regrets. Ultron, Leipzig, Bucky. May and Mr. Stark were both worried about me.

But I had to be out there. Being Spider-Man was in my DNA. Literally!

Guilt and humiliation churned away in my stomach.

I knew that I could've done better. I planned to do better. But how could I do that without my spider-man suit? There was no way I could chase down the Vulture in my peewee, DIY suit. They would beat me to a pulp.

After showering, I pulled on some clothes and sat out on the fire escape.

Ever since the spider bite, the city always felt more like a living thing.

The sounds of car engines, sirens, smoke, food cooking, people talking, dogs barking.

That was the way the city breathed.

I knew I should be on patrol right about now. Night had set in fast and that's usually when the crime started. But I was benched.

I leaned against the railing and gave a tired sigh.

"Hey, Queens."

I bolted to my feet.

From out of the shadows emerged a tall, bearded man wearing a worn jacket and cargo pants. I almost didn't recognize him, but it was Captain America.

"Captain Rogers, I didn't-"

He held up his hand just like Mr. Stark did to cut me off.

"Kid, remember, I said we were beyond that now. It's just Steve."

He sat down next to me. It felt so casual, I couldn't believe that I was sitting on the fire escape with Captain America.

He must've seen me staring.

"What? Is the hobo-beard thing not working for you?"

I had to laugh. "No, no. It's fine."

It's just that this was a whole different Steve Rogers.

In all the posters and videos, he was a clean-shaven, loyal soldier. But the last six months had changed him into a fugitive on the run.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "Isn't it dangerous to be here?"

"Natasha sent me."

Aw, great. He knew about the incident. I embarrassed myself in front of the entire city, Mr. Stark and the rogue Avengers.

I looked down at my feet, dangling three stories above the ground.

"I guess it was because of today, wasn't it?"

"What happened today?"

I did a double-take. Steve Rogers was out of the loop? That was a first.

"I screwed up, Cap." I moaned. "Bad."

"Come on, how bad could it be?"

"An entire ferry was split in half. Mr. Stark even took away my suit."

Steve chuckled softly. "That makes two of us."

I'd completely forgotten that Mr. Stark currently had Cap's shield. But that was different.

That day in Siberia, after Steve, Bucky, and Natasha had left, I helped Mr. Stark limp to a government helicopter and I carried the shield with my free arm. The thrill of holding it again was replaced with something more solemn.

I wondered why Steve had given it up. Mr. Stark was out of commission. He didn't have to drop it there. Then it occurred to me that Steve had left the shield out of respect for Mr. Stark and Howard. Through thick and thin, Steve Rogers had morals.

Maybe the reason why I wanted to be like Tony Stark so much was because he had flaws. At least that was attainable.

When I was younger, I thought Captain America could do no wrong.

I didn't know how you could be almost perfect in every way like Captain America, so I stuck with the next best thing.

But six months ago, I learned that even people like Steve could be pushed to the breaking point. He had made some mistakes trying to do the right thing, but he was still good.

Now I was sitting with him on the fire escape and the heroic facade had faded.

He wasn't a legendary soldier who fought aliens and robots every other week, this was just some guy who had taken a big risk to see how his best friend's kid was doing.

And I think I liked the new guy better.

"Happy late birthday, by the way." Steve said.

"Oh, thanks."

"Did you get Natasha's card?"
I nodded.

"Good. She was worried it might not go through."

I tried to hide the anxiousness in my voice. "How is she?"

"Well," he gave a tired sigh. "Life on the run is a little overrated, but your mom's doing really good."

"And Bucky?"

"He's safe."

I stared down at the ground again. "But not better."

"The people who are caring for him are optimistic that he can begin conscious rehab in about eight months or so."

My face fell. "That long?"

"You need to remember that Hydra's been controlling him for seven decades. That's longer than even Tony's been alive. The lead researcher, she was pretty technical. I'm sure if you met her, you would understand better than I did, but Hydra used electroshock and psychological methods on him. For the average 100-year-old, his brain is as good as it was when he was thirty. But he has the most intense damage from PTSD and brain trauma that has ever been recorded on an MRI."

I bit my lip.

I heard stories from kids from military families who talked about their parents' or their grandpas' PTSD issues. I never knew I would be in the same situation (kind of).

We sat in silence for a little longer.

"Look kid," Steve said. "I know things are complicated what with Natasha on the run and Bucky in rehab, but they care about you. Did you know that Natasha's been listening in on your voicemails with Happy?"

"She heard all that?"

Well, that's embarrassing. So much for trying to look professional to the Avengers.

He chuckled.

"Don't worry about it. You don't have to impress anyone. You've just gotta be yourself."

"But I wanna be like you guys."

He saw how insistent I was, so he stared out at the skyline instead. We could see Upper Manhattan's skyscrapers from here.

"Calvin Graham. Enlisted in the marines during WWII at age 13. Youngest U.S. Servicemen to fight during conflict."

Steve rattled it off like trivia he found in a book. He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Figures. I couldn't get into the army at twenty-four, but the thirteen-year-old could. You know, after the war, Calvin dropped out of school and got married when he was still a teenager."

I gave him a weird look.

"Are you saying that I'm gonna end up like Graham?"

"Maybe not in that way, but….it's a possibility."

"Relax, Cap. I'll be fine."

"And how many absences do you have right now?"

I was quiet. At the start of the school year, I promised May that I wouldn't miss any school for Spider-Man. But it had gotten worse. Counting today, I missed three days this week. Spider-Man was getting more time than Peter Parker was.

"Bucky and Natasha wanted to raise you away from the fight, Peter." Steve said.

That was like two active military parents telling their kids they don't want them to be in the army after they grew up on the bases.

"Why?"

"War does things to people. It messes with their minds. Either that, or you end up like us: Workaholics who can't get a life outside the job."

He gave me a sympathetic look.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but Stark benching you might be the best thing for now."

Mr. Stark and Steve agreeing on something? That was new.

He patted my shoulder.

"You should try out civilian life for a little while. I've heard it's nice."

Steve stood up and stepped onto the fire escape ladder.

"I'll tell your ma you said hi. Oh, and by the way," he grinned. "You haven't seen or talked to me for six months."

I nodded. "This conversation never even happened."

He smiled warmly. "Take care of yourself, Queens."

"Thanks, Brooklyn."

And just like that, Steve Rogers disappeared into the night.

I wanted to get into that superhero life.

But everyone I was close to now- May, Steve, Mr. Stark, Bucky, Natasha- wanted me to stay out for now. If I wouldn't do it for myself, shouldn't I at least do it for them?

So with that, I climbed back into my room, shut the window, and locked it for good. No more late-night escapades. At least so I thought.

Hey, guys! Thanks for the kind reviews you've left recently!

I wanted to emphasize the uncle figure that Steve is taking in Peter's life with this chapter and I'm loving writing their new dynamic.

Ironically, homecoming is this weekend for me.

I'll probably ditch the dance like Peter does after an hour or so.

But instead of fighting the Vulture, I'll probably just go get ice cream. xD