"Kid-"
Peter startled hard, foot scuffing forward a bit, snapping his head to the side to look at whoever had spoken.
There was a man - dirty blond hair, sky blue eyes, and a nose that looked like it'd been broken one too many times.
He was standing a couple of meters away, one hand extended placatingly, inching forwards slightly.
Peter's senses weren't going off, so the man wasn't likely to be an enemy, but how he'd gotten this close without Peter having heard him was another matter entirely.
"Yes…?" Peter replied cautiously, unconsciously moving a hair backwards.
The man seemed to have to physically stop himself from jolting forwards, lax arm snapping up to join the other so that both of his palms were out and facing Peter.
"I just wanna talk for a sec," he said calmly, but there was an underlying edge to his voice that Peter couldn't place.
"Alright?" Peter hesitantly agreed, tone still more questioning than anything as he shifted to fully face the other.
The man seemed to relax slightly at the motion, arms lowering a fraction. His expression seemed welcoming, if somewhat projected. "How 'bout you step down from there, yeah?" he suggested lightly.
Peter's brows furrowed, head tilting back to the side so that he looked out over the roof's edge to the ground a good couple dozen stories below. A gust of wind buffeted his hair, curls ruffling over his eyes and hiding the way they widened in realization. He floundered suddenly, jerkily springing off the lip of the roof and back onto more stable ground. "I-I wasn't-" he stuttered, then cut himself off.
The blonde's eyes narrowed. "You weren't…" he prompted, taking another step closer.
Peter waved his arms around, pinwheeling, almost, trying to figure out a good way to word it. Saying that he wasn't trying to off himself seemed a bit blunt. "I-I wasn't gonna, uh, jump," he decided on lamely.
The man took a moment to consider him. "I'm not judging you," he said.
Peter flushed. "I-I - that's not-" he stuttered, failing miserably at coming up with anything he could reasonably say. It's not like he could just come out with, 'well, I have sticky feet and a crazy sense of balance, so I was fine standing on the edge cause I knew I wouldn't fall,' or, 'I actually was planning on jumping but I was gonna go to the next roof over even though there's more than a ten foot wide gap that no normal human can make,' or just a plain and simple, 'I'm Spider-Man.'
Nope.
So instead, like the complete and utter idiot that he could very clearly recognize he was, Peter, stumbling over his words as per usual - worse so since what he was saying was more or less a lie - said, "I- um. Th-thank you for uhhhhh... stopping me. Yeah. I, ah, totally won't try that again."
Like an idiot.
God, he wanted to take it back straight away and just yeet himself off the roof.
The man's stare intensified, and Peter shifted uncomfortably as the seconds ticked by in a stiff, tense ratcheting sort of silence.
"You mind if I walk you down?" the other finally asked, and Peter shook his head resignedly, the man coming up to his side and putting himself between Peter and the roof as the two made their way to the stairwell access.
This is fine, Peter told himself, footsteps ringing out as they began their descent.
And then he barely stopped himself from snapping his head to the left when he heard a comm crackle to life in the man's ear.
'Clint? Status,' a female voice ordered.
Peter let his gaze flicker to the side, taking in how the man's lips pursed and his arm subtly went up to his ear, a faint click cutting off further sound, while his other hand reached into his pocket to pull out a sleek StarkPhone that he turned on and typed a quick message across.
Not suspicious at all.
Nope.
Just a not suicidal but enhanced teen and a nice but probably spy man.
Perfectly normal, as all things should be.