Peter exited Stark Tower and sighed in relief, both because the afternoon had gone well (so well) and because it was darker outside. His eyes appreciated the change from the mid-afternoon sun. He'd been trying to figure out a non-weird way to wear sunglasses in a couple of his brighter classes, even, to help curb the sometimes-headaches. Thankfully Mr. Stark's lab had pretty gentle, non-fluorescent lighting.

He oriented himself, figuring out which direction he needed to head for his train stop, shaking his head in amazement as he started walking. Had all of that really happened? He'd been prepared to be with a whole group of other interns, and be doing fairly boring stuff like getting tours and watching lab safety videos, and getting ID badges. He had been hoping to maybe even see the R&D labs. Instead he'd found himself in Mr. Stark's private lab, working one-on-one with him. Well, not working with him, but he'd gotten to assemble an arc reactor, and got to work on a project with Mr. Stark's intelligent robot, who was amazing. What even was his life?

He reached down into his pocket to pull out his phone. He tried to remember if Ned would be able to answer right now, because he was so excited to share his crazy afternoon, when he suddenly felt a buzz of unease. It was the same alert feeling he got when someone was about to try to trip him or throw something at the back of his head at school. Or how he felt when he considered asking his parents for help with all the crazy changes his body had been going through since the bite. At school he had to be careful not to react most of the time, but this time, his body didn't even give him a choice.

He was extremely surprised to find himself suddenly clinging to the wall of the alley he'd been about to pass, at least 20 feet in the air. Just as he did, a car came careening right towards where he'd been standing, and jumped the curb, hitting a fire hydrant in the process. Gushing water further obscured the dark accident scene, but Peter could tell if he hadn't moved so quickly, there was an excellent chance it would have hit him.

Thankfully the alley where Peter had ended up was deeply shadowed, because a tall, blond man rushed out of a small storefront towards the wreckage, and Peter could hear him talking to the 911 operator on his cell phone. The man was peering inside the car and managed to get the door open. A few other people started to converge on the scene.

"Yeah, an older lady… She's unconscious…. Bleeding a little; I can't tell how bad… I didn't see it, just heard it. I dunno know what caused it… Yeah, I can stay... Four minutes? Okay."

Peter felt frozen as he stared at the accident from the dark alley. His heart was beating much faster than it should be, and he couldn't help but keep his eyes locked on the dark blue sedan—the exact same color as May and Ben's old Corolla—in its crumpled state. He was vaguely aware of someone breathing loudly, rapidly, and finally realized it was him.

Still no motion from the car, but Peter could hear the sirens of the approaching fire truck undoubtedly filled with paramedics who could and would help the driver. Taking a chance in the dark, he slowly climbed along the wall, angling up towards the roof, and boosted himself onto the roof. It was actually insane how easily he did that, like gravity didn't even apply to him. And how in the world were his feet sticking to the wall, even through his shoes? If his adrenaline wasn't already sky high, Peter was pretty sure he'd be completely freaking out. But mostly he was just concentrating on not being seen. Because as awful being hit by that car might have been, people seeing him climbing the wall in his tennis shoes, hoodie, and backpack sounded worse.

Right. What had just happened. Was that something he could have… helped with? He had no idea how strong he was, but he was pretty dang strong. But he knew he could still be hurt. He'd stubbed his toe just that morning and felt like he might die for about 30 seconds. But when Mrs. Anker's cat had scratched him a few days ago, it had still hurt and bled, but had been gone by dinner time. What WAS he? Was he going to keep changing? Keep turning into an actual spider? Focus, Peter. He pulled himself together enough to continue to his stop and board the train home, but immediately became lost in his thoughts again.

He had known the car was about to crash. Or at least had known something was about to happen. What if he could have helped that lady?

Peter arrived home and was surprised to find his parents already there. They were both eating silently at the table. Mary was staring at her laptop and Richard seemed to be half-listening to the news that was playing on the television. They both glanced at him as he came in, but instead of turning immediately back to their screens, his dad muted the TV and his mom only looked at her computer for another few seconds before turning away from it. Peter attempted to head to his room, like he usually would, but instead Richard's voice called him back.

"Aren't you going to join us?" his father asked. Peter slowly turned and let his backpack slip to the floor. Okay, then.

"You had the internship today, right?" Mary asked with a smile. "How was it?" Oh. She was interested? He pulled a dining room chair out and sat down, a little apprehensive, but also gratified that they were asking him about his evening.

Mary pulled a 6-inch sub sandwich out of the bag on the table and set it in front of him. "An Italian BMT lettuce wrap," she said, smiling like that should mean something to him. He smiled back tentatively. He suddenly remembered that a Italian BMT had been his favorite sandwich one summer as a kid, but he'd eaten so many of them, he didn't really enjoy salami anymore. Not that he would say that. The fact that she even remembered he'd liked them once-upon-a-time was something. As he opened it and nibbled at it, he was suddenly even more grateful for all the pizza he'd recently eaten. Otherwise he'd probably have needed to eat the whole thing, and he would have still been hungry. And this sandwich was definitely meant for bread.

"Yes, tell us about it," Richard said, dragging his eyes from the closed captioning on the muted TV to look at Peter. His gaze seemed more professionally curious than actually interested.

"Uh, it was really cool," Peter said, about to tell them how he'd been working personally with Mr. Stark, when his sixth-sense thing buzzed again, low in the back of his head. What the heck? He was just talking to his parents. It wasn't dangerous in any way to just tell them about his day. Despite thinking that maybe his buzzy-sense was glitchy, he took a breath and thought rapidly. "I haven't been to that part of Stark Tower before, and I loved all the technology and stuff, ya know?" He didn't want to straight up lie to them, but maybe he wasn't ready to share that specific detail yet. Thankfully his parents didn't pick up on the half-truth.

Mary wrinkled up her nose. "Peter, don't say 'ya know;' you sound like a New Yorker."

But I am a New Yorker, Peter thought in annoyance. But he just nodded. "It was pretty impressive," he said more demurely.

"Did you see Stark at all?" Richard asked, sipping at his tea.

"Yeah, a little bit," Peter said. He quickly took a big bite of his lettuce wrap, knowing that would keep him from having to answer any questions for a few minutes. His parents did notice bad table manners.

"Are they going to have you all working in the same place, or will they split you into different areas?" Richard finally asked before Peter could take his next bite.

"Um, I think they'll split us up a little bit," he said. It came out as more of a question than a statement.

"Good, good," Richard said, pulling open up his own laptop. "Do try to work in the DNA microarray lab if you can make it happen. That's what we're most interested in. Stark's version is actually quite a bit better than previous generations, and when he's ready to let other people finally use them, we want to be at the top of his list."

Who's we? thought Peter. But he nodded again. His mother had been listening in as he answered the questions, but now both parents were turning back to their work, and his dad actually stood up and left the room as he started a phone call with someone.

"Um, mo—Mary?"

"Yes?" She didn't look up.

"I got kinda hungry today after school. I could probably use some extra snacks so I can eat something on my way to the internship on those days?"

"Just order them with your card," she said distractedly. "Or buy them wherever. Just make sure they're not junk," she amended, with a small grimace. His mother had always been obsessed with healthy eating. The first time May and Ben took him out to get donuts for breakfast, May said he'd been amazed that the "bagel" had frosting on it. They'd teased him about it for years, he thought fondly. Anyway. At least it was a sign that Mary cared about him? Or at least about his health?

"Okay," Peter agreed. When she didn't respond, he said, "I'm gonna go do my homework?" and quickly escaped to his room at his mother's nod. Well, that was one more problem solved. His parents were unlikely to notice the quantity of snacks he got, as long as he didn't go completely overboard or have charges from ice cream shops or whatever. Of course, they might not notice that, either, but if he made a habit of it, it was bound to come up at some point. But he didn't need junk food, he just needed food , and more of it. He felt like his pants had gotten a little looser since the spider bite, like he still wasn't getting enough calories for his new metabolism.

Peter flopped down on his bed and opened his laptop. He pulled up the video chat app he used with MJ and Ned. Of course they couldn't just use something normal. Ned insisted this one was virtually unhackable, and said it was important that their conversations be secure. Peter had always rolled his eyes a little at that, but lately he'd been pretty grateful for his friend's technological elitism.

Ned and MJ both joined within a few minutes. They must have been working on homework too.

"Dude! How was it?" Ned asked as soon as he connected. "Did you get to see the giant arc reactor in the basement? Did you see Mr. Stark again? What did you get to work on? Did you meet anyone else cool? Did you—"

"Ned. Let him talk. Look at his face, loser. He's got stuff going on."

"Yeeeaaaahhh, there's a lot in my head right now. Mind if I just dump it all on you guys? Either of you have anything important you need to say first?"

"Nah, bro, it's all you," Ned said, eyes wide.

So Peter told them. He told them about being sent up to Mr. Stark's personal lab, and never even seeing the other interns. He told them about getting to put together an actual arc reactor, and how Mr. Stark seemed surprised he could do it. He told them about DUM-E and about pizza, and about his parents' weird interrogation when he got home. About ten seconds into his tale, Ned had to mute himself to avoid interrupting Peter with his constant exclamations. MJ even had to stop Peter once to ask Ned if he was good, or if he needed a literal breather.

And then Peter got even quieter, and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. He listened again to make sure his parents were busy and nowhere near his room. Then he told them about discovering his new ability to jump who-knows-how-high and stick to walls through his shoes, and about his body's crazy automatic reaction that kept him safe from the careening car.

At the end of Peter's story, all three of them sat in silence for a moment.

"I just… I've been thinking about May and Ben ever since it happened," he explained haltingly. "I mean, this car looked so much like theirs. And what if… what if I'm strong enough that I might have been able to help? I hope… I hope this lady will be okay, but what about other people who have horrible things that happen to them? And if I could do something about it maybe, and stop some of that. If I can, and I don't, then that's not right. Then I'm the… the reason some of it happens. Shouldn't I figure out a way to help?"

MJ spoke first. "First of all: no. You are not the reason any awful thing happens to anyone, just because you might be able to stop it. But yeah. What if you could help, without putting yourself in danger?" Her eyes flashed slightly at that. "What would that look like? Like… like a vigilante?"

"No! Just, like a helper . I could maybe like stop muggings or help lost kids, or figure out how strong I am, so I know if I could maybe help with anything big. But in a way that no one knows who I really am."

Ned finally found his voice. "Peter, you're not a helper. Super strength, super senses, some crazy danger-ESP, and you can leap 20 feet and climb along the wall? Dude. You're superhero!"

Peter's eyes widened abruptly. "No! I'm not—I'm not like any of them!" he said, his eyes flicking to the poster on his wall of the Avengers. It was a publicity shot taken shortly after the Battle of New York. But Peter had spent the afternoon with one of them. And could probably arm wrestle several more. Could he—? Were his weird mutations actually kind of like super powers?

"How could I stay anonymous? No one can find out about this!" he said firmly.

They threw ideas back and forth for another 20 minutes, but Ned had to go do dishes, and MJ said she had a big Art History paper to work on. So by 8 o'clock Peter was alone with his thoughts again.

He had a lot—a lot —of thinking to do, and some decisions to make. And a good chunk of research, as well.

"Tony?"

"Oh, hey , Pepper!" Tony's mind scrambled rapidly, trying to figure out how late it was, and if he had disappointed her once again.

"Hey. I was just curious if you already ate. I know it's late, but I brought some Chinese home with me."

He managed to glance at his watch and it was only 8 o'clock. Oh, thank heavens. He was really trying to change his habits, but he got fixated on projects so easily. He needed to set more protocols with FRIDAY to make sure he couldn't get carried away late into the night. At least not when she was home. He was going to make things work this time.

"Hey sweetheart," he greeted her happily as she leaned in for a kiss. Re-relationshipping was still a little bit new for them, and there were little bits of stiffness in moments like this that should be automatic and comfortable. "I had pizza with the kid, actually, but I'll sit with you while you eat." He quickly sorted things away into their digital folders, and closed the project he was working on.

"The kid?" Pepper asked curiously. She smiled as he took her hand in his and led her from his workshop. He knew little things like that actually meant a lot to her, and he was doing things right this time.

"Uh, yeah. The Parker kid? The one I was talking to outside the Gala last week? He's in our intern program, and I think he's going to be working with me instead of with the other interns."

Pepper stopped, their connected hands causing him to turn before they reached the elevator. "Working with you? Like he was here in your lab with you?"

"Yeah," Tony said slowly. "Is that a problem?"

"No, I guess not. I'm just surprised. I didn't expect you to take any interest in the program other than showing up a few times for the 'wow' factor," she said, her voice and her eyebrows dropping in a tease.

"'Wow factor?' Thanks for that," he huffed, tugging her into the open lift with him. "I can do kids, I think! Smart ones anyway. And Parker is smart. Like maybe smarter than me. I definitely have to find out if he's smarter than me," he said, almost to himself.

Pepper laughed lightly and stepped into his space, close enough that he felt her warm breath on his neck when she responded. "Smarter than you, huh? This I've got to see. Keep me posted, would you, FRIDAY?" she asked, glancing up at the ceiling.

"Of course, Ms. Potts," FRIDAY replied.

What she did next thoroughly distracted Tony from thoughts of his bright new intern. When they came up for air, he couldn't help but ask, "What do you think of that 'wow factor' now, love?"

Her incredulous laugh was exactly what he was looking for, and his answering smile was nothing like the one the public got to see.