"I dunno, guys. You don't think it looks weird?" Peter moved back away from the laptop screen so MJ and Ned could see more of a full-length shot. The red bodysuit fit like a glove, though it took a few minutes of struggling to get into. The thin hoodie over the top made it a little less… revealing, and broke up the bright red color with dark blue. Peter had the airsoft goggles on, which filtered light down to a more comfortable level for him, with the hood pulled up over his head and tightened under his chin to hold it in place. The black fingerless gloves looked cool, and the high top tennis shoes, which used to be black, but which were drifting closer to dark gray, were functional, if not flashy.

"I think it looks awesome," Ned said, ever enthusiastic and supportive.

MJ looked speculative. "The bodysuit sleeves are red, too, right?"

Peter tugged his hood and goggles off, then pulled up a sleeve of the light sweatshirt to double check, even though he knew the answer. "Yeah, why?"

"I think you should cut the sleeves off. They're bulky, and you might get caught on something. Plus, I think it would look cooler to see the red underneath.

"Cut them off? But it's brand new. That seems… destructive?"

"Oh, come on, it's not really, when that's what you bought it for. It's helping you stay anonymous, not warm, right?

"Well, it is starting to get cold," Peter equivocated.

"But the suit should do a pretty good job with that, if you're not out for like hours, and you're keeping moving the whole time."

"I guess?"

"It's your choice, obviously, but I think you should do it," she said. She moved off the camera for a minute and came back with a sketchpad, bending her head down as she worked on something out-of-sight for a minute.

"What are you going to do about a symbol?" Ned asked. "Is that still on the table?"

"Yeah. I think I'm definitely going with the spider-theme, since we got the web-like formula figured out. I told Mr. Stark I was working on something for a project at home, and asked about buying and even ordering a few of the pieces that I need through SI to finish it off."

"And what'd he say?"

Peter grinned. "He's so cool. He said I could just have the pieces, and asked FRIDAY to order the others, and won't even let me pay for them."

"Dude, that's awesome !" Ned said. "Didn't he want to know what they were for, though?"

"Yeah, he seemed curious, but I tried to make it sound kinda generic and boring. I said it was a trigger-based ejection system I had thought about using for cake decorating."

Ned's face was a picture of unimpressed.

"He bought that?"

"Well, for the spinneret-type pieces I needed, it could be that. I didn't show him the schematics or anything," Peter defended.

"Huh."

"Okay, look," MJ interrupted. She held a hastily drawn figure up to the camera.

"Whoa, that's… me," Peter said, studying the picture. She'd drawn him in his costume, using pen and some broad markers to lay down red, blue, and black. But in her drawing, his hoodie was sleeveless, and the red of the undersuit cut a bright line across his torso where he had one arm crossed.

"Peter, gotta be honest, she's right. That's cooler."

"I don't look as cool as her drawing anyway," Peter said. "But, yeah, I see it."

He huffed a breath out nervously, and pulled the sweatshirt off, then grabbed a pair of scissors out of the top drawer of his desk.

"I hope you're right about this."

"I'm always right about stylistic choices," MJ said. "Speaking of, you wanted me to do some different spider symbols to choose from?"

"Definitely."

"I'll text them over."

"When should the parts be in at SI?" Ned asked as Peter cut into the fabric, wincing. May would have been so annoyed at him cutting up a brand new hoodie.

"Um, tomorrow, actually," Peter said.

"Oh, wow. So you could paint on the symbol today, and finish your web-shooters—are we still calling them web-shooters?"

Peter nodded, not looking up.

"You could finish them tomorrow, and then you could like… do the thing?"

"I guess so." Peter finished cutting, turned the blue material right-side-out again, and pulled it on. He backed up again to let them see the whole costume. Because it was more a costume than a suit, no matter how often he called it that.

"Yeah, she was right," Ned said.

"I told you; I'm always right about these things," MJ said.

Tony stretched, careful not to disturb Pepper, who was sleeping next to him. This was the first time (in recent history) she had stayed over, and he was feeling ridiculously warm and fuzzy about it. Her face was mostly obscured by the sheet she had pulled up to her nose, but he had a great view of her long, sandy eyelashes nearly brushing adorable freckles: the same ones she tried hard to cover most of the time. He resisted the urge to brush his hand lightly down her hair. It wasn't worth waking her. She didn't sleep enough as it was.

Instead, he rolled to the side and grabbed his phone off his nightstand, perusing FRIDAY's curated list of communications and headlines. He glanced through them for a few minutes, and something caught his eye towards the end of the list.

QUEENS DEFENDER CATCHES RUNAWAY BUS
Is the Spider-Man Enhanced?

Why had FRIDAY given him news about another small-time vigilante? Since the Avengers had fought the Battle of New York years ago, it seems like one popped up every few months. Tony clicked on the article, which was dated the night before.

The new Spider-themed hero has been sighted several times this week, but until now seemed to be sticking to interrupting muggings, stopping shoplifters, and drawing attention as he swung through the air on web-like strands. Breaking his modus operandi, today he proved he's on a different level than the public previously thought. At 6:05 PM tonight, the Spider-Man grabbed onto the back of a city bus, which was careening towards the Williamsburg Bridge, and was able to slow and eventually stop it before anyone was injured.

The momentary hero fled the scene as soon as he brought the bus to a stop and checked on the bus driver and passengers, who were unharmed. In an interview with the driver, she attests that the brakes became inoperable. The cause of the malfunction is unknown.

Experts are insisting that the new vigilante must have enhancements: strength, at the very least. What other powers does the masked individual possess? Is he more man, or more spider? Is "he" even a he, or even human? And most importantly, is he a danger to anyone?

What in the world? A city bus… That had to be 20 to 30,000 pounds. Tony's brain quickly did math on the forces involved without any conscious decision to do so. Dang right, this guy was enhanced, possibly enough to get SHIELD's notice. Why hadn't Tony heard of him before?

He spent the next few minutes reading articles about other sightings. The Spider-Man had only been making appearances for a few days, and yes, until now, it had been small-time stuff. The most remarkable thing about him up to the bus episode had been how he apparently traveled by swinging through the air, attaching himself to buildings and using physics to avoid crashing into anything.

Not that there was a complete lack of crashes. When he searched YouTube, Tony found quite a few "fail" videos already, which seemed to feature the new hero miscalculating, or misfiring. Were the webs organic? Was it tech? What about that video where he'd been spotted climbing up a wall, apparently just sticking to it with his hands and feet? His disguise-or-whatever-it-was screamed amateur, but his abilities were intriguing.

Pepper's slight movements next to him interrupted Tony's train of thought, and quickly tugged his attention away from the article on his phone. He'd have FRIDAY gather more information. Or maybe Peter. He lived in Queens, right?

Pepper was definitely awake, and Tony stopped thinking about other things. She deserved his full attention whenever possible.

"Peter, what the—"

Peter shushed his clamorous friend quickly. "You saw the article, I'm guessing?" he whispered, hoping Ned would match his volume. He'd seen it this morning too, as he scanned headlines for signs of himself. It hadn't exactly made him feel better.

"You didn't check in last night," MJ hissed from his other side, falling in next to them as they walked towards their first period classes. "We've kind of been freaking out. And what's wrong with your eyes?"

Oh, crap. He was in trouble.

"I, uh… sorry. I turned my phone off. I had a lot to process," he said, rubbing ineffectually at his still slightly-red eyes. He probably should have at least looked at his messages and even voicemails when he'd finally turned it on to set his alarm, but he just couldn't deal last night, and had been running late this morning.

"That's understandable. But you could have processed after you let us know you were home safely."

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'll tell you about it at lunch?"

" Yeah you will," MJ said angrily, turning to go to her English class, while Peter and Ned continued to World History.

"Dude. I was upset, but she really might kill you this time. Why didn't you turn your phone back on? Or tell us that's what you were doing?"

"I didn't get home until late. My parents were working overnight, and after the bus thing, I had a lot on my mind," Peter whispered as they took their seats. "I'll tell you about it at lunch."

As Peter sat and listened to the lecture, the night's events flashed through his brain for what felt like the 37th time.

He hadn't actually thought he could stop the bus. But when he saw it heading for the bridge, blasting through a red light, he'd just acted. After five days of working on it, he finally felt like he was getting the hang of swinging with the webs, and he'd managed to land on the back of the bus, surprising himself a little. Not as surprised, though, as he'd been when he'd instinctively grabbed on and swung his heels down to the ground and tried to hold it back. It took about 30 seconds and had nearly destroyed his tennis shoes, but he'd managed to bring it to a standstill.

He'd already been a little shell-shocked that he'd managed that and had been headed home an hour later when he'd heard the squeal ahead of him and saw a small sedan lose control on what might have been a tiny patch of ice. He'd acted instinctively again, and had caught the front end before it hit anything. Compared to the bus, the car had been easy to catch, and he found himself staring into the terrified eyes of the driver, a father with two young boys strapped in the back. He had nearly the same hair and shape of glasses as Ben had worn, and Peter had frozen, tears blurring his vision.

"Hey, you're the Spider-Man guy!" the older of the two boys shouted. "I saw you on YouTube at Danny's! Thank you, Spider-Man!"

Peter had nodded and sprung from the car, swinging hard and fast until he reached a roof close to his building. It had a vent that let warm air from a restaurant's kitchen into the air, and he could sit with his back against it without freezing.

And he'd sat there for several hours, first silencing his phone, and then turning it off completely. And he'd cried.

The emotions had poured out of him: sadness, and loneliness, missing May and Ben, and grief . He'd cried about his parents' distance, and about how he didn't want to go home. He'd cried about a few of the things he'd seen and heard in the last few days, about the people who could have died today if he hadn't acted, about the people who still could have died if he hadn't been strong enough, or fast enough. He'd cried because he was so scared sometimes about the changes that had been forced on his body, but if he didn't have them, he wouldn't have been able to help any of those people.

Finally, the tears had slowed, and his breathing had stabilized to deep, shuddering breaths instead of sobs. And then he'd cried more softly, as if he was wringing the last bit of water out of a kitchen sponge. Tears had just trickled here and there as he thought about how grateful he was to be able to save the people on the bus, and the little family in the car. He'd cried tears of gratitude for Ned and MJ (but still hadn't been ready to talk to them) and for Mr. Stark and the internship, and for the good memories he had of May and Ben. And for the memories those two kids would get to keep having with their dad.

He'd finally gotten up when he felt like he could see straight again, or at least well enough to swing, and had dragged himself through his bedroom window after 11 PM.

It was thanks to his fancy new healing that his eyes were just a little red today instead of completely swollen, like they'd been once or twice before when he'd had emotional overload. He still felt wrung out though, and wasn't sure how he was going to make it through the day and go to SI afterwards. But he wanted to, of course. He didn't want to be home alone this afternoon, but he also didn't want to go to Ned's and be mother-henned by Ned or his mom. He was too afraid he'd just burst into tears again. He just needed the people around him to act normal, so he could breathe and relax, and pull himself together. Hopefully by the time he got to the Tower, he'd be past the emotional hangover.

"Kid, are you all right?"

Crap. The last time he'd been in the bathroom, he'd looked in the mirror and thought he'd looked pretty normal. His eyes had returned to their normal color, and he hadn't cried at all today. Not really.

"Of course, Mr. Stark. Why do you ask?" he said brightly, smiling at his boss. Mentor?

"You're not sick or anything?" Mr. Stark asked. Peter tried not to show his shock as the man stepped closer to him and touched firmly under his chin with two fingers, pulling it up so he could look into Peter's eyes more clearly. Peter panicked as he felt tears burn behind his eyes at the casual touch. Mr. Stark actually looked worried about him.

"Uh, no! I just have… allergies. You know, my eyes get all itchy and watery, and—"

"In November?"

"Yes?"

"Hmm," Mr. Stark said doubtfully, dropping his hand. "You let me know if you're not feeling well, and need to go home or something, okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Peter said glibly. "What are we doing today?"

"Get a snack first," Mr. Stark said gruffly, turning back to the terminal he'd been working at.

Which is how Peter's mouth was full of Doritos, and how he inhaled a little bit, and how he nearly coughed his head off, Mr. Stark slapping him worriedly on the back, when his mentor asked, "So what do you know about this Spider-man guy?"

After Mr. Stark had pushed bottled water at him, and forestalled any attempt at speaking while Peter finished trying to get the food out of his windpipe. DUM-E and U had come rushing over worriedly, and Mr. Stark had pulled back from trying to help Peter to keep them at bay. Getting an enthusiastic swat on the back from one of them would have been more harm than help.

"You sure you're good there, kiddo?" Mr. Stark asked, concern and awkwardness etched in his face.

"Yeah, I just, I just inhaled when I shouldn't have."

"Okay… But yeah, have you seen this Spider-guy out doing his thing?"

"Um, I've heard of him, of course, but haven't seen him. I'm, uh… usually doing homework and stuff when he's out, I think."

"Oh, that's a good point. I hadn't realized it, but he's mostly out in the afternoon and evenings. You think he's a college student? Could he be that young?"

Peter winced a little, and inwardly smacked himself on the forehead. Way to throw the literal genius off his scent. It hadn't yet occurred to Mr. Stark that he might be anywhere near as young as he was until he'd opened his big mouth.

"I dunno." Peter took a drink of the bottle of water, coughing a little more at the scratchy feeling in his throat. Why are you, uh, looking into him, anyway?"

"Have you seen the video from yesterday? Guy caught a bus. A bus , Pete. Everyone and their dog is gonna be watching for this guy now. Including SHIELD. Thought I'd do my own reconnaissance first."

"Oh," Peter squeaked. "Yeah."

SHIELD? Whoa. He hadn't thought about that. Who else was going to be watching to see what else he could do? He was just a kid, not an actual hero. What would any of them want with him?

Suddenly Peter realized Mr. Stark had just snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Kid?"

"Oh, sorry! I was just thinking about something," Peter deflected rapidly. "I mean, that arc reactor with the safety features, so no one could turn the energy supply into a bomb or anything?"

"Yeah," Mr. Stark said slowly, not following the rapid subject switch.

"What if we could use those same features to make a less-powerful version, kind of like the one you rigged in Afghanistan," Peter asked, with an apologetic glance at his mentor for bringing that up, "and make like portable heaters or coolers for people who are like homeless, or who can't afford to heat their apartments, or stuff like that?" His eyes studied Mr. Stark's carefully, and finding interest, he continued. "Do you think that's worth looking into?"

Mr. Stark sat back against the edge of the holo table and crossed his arms. "Well, yeah. I hadn't thought about it, but it's possible."

Peter sighed gratefully. It looked like he had successfully distracted Mr. Stark from getting his opinion on Spider-man. But his interest had given Peter a lot to think (and worry) about. After all the emotional upheaval of the day before, and the craziness that had come with figuring out how he was going to be Spider-man, Peter was ready for a day or two of nothing crazy happening.

He shook away the heaviness in his thoughts and let himself just concentrate on the preliminary plans Mr. Stark was playing with based on the idea he had just suggested. It was easy to lose himself in the science and in the exhilaration that usually came when they worked on an idea like this. There was plenty of time to worry about Spider-man and SHIELD and even school and his friends later. It would all work out.