The subway was packed full of Mets fans, boisterous after a win, and Peter pulled his little sister Morgan into a corner of the train car where there was an open seat. It was too loud to talk, but he pressed her into the seat and stood right in front of her, practically in her lap. He was a scrawny fourteen-year-old, but his Aunt May had always drilled it into his head to protect his eleven-year-old sister. Peter and Morgan had not gone to the Mets game like the rest of the passengers, they had just picked really bad timing to see the latest Star Wars movie at the local cinema.

Morgan had headphones over her ears and was listening to the movie's soundtrack, eyes closed. The plot was average, but it was a Star Wars movie, so it automatically was a favorite for both of the kids. Peter liked it for the fantasy and aliens, Morgan liked it because she was obsessed with movie soundtracks. Morgan's school music teacher had reached out to the family with news that Morgan had perfect pitch, and "a lot of musical potential waiting to be explored".

The Parker family was, to be blunt, poor. Aunt May was retired and received a small pension, and it mostly kept the family afloat thanks to the rent-controlled apartment that May had lived in for over forty years. Aunt May was actually their Great Aunt, their grandma's sister, and was Peter and Morgan's last living relative after their parents died when Peter was eight. Morgan was really too young to remember them, but Peter treasured the few memories he had left.

There was not a lot of extra spending money, and definitely not enough for the private music lessons that Morgan's teacher had suggested. Peter occasionally worked odd jobs for the landlord, Mr. Davidson, and had resolved that he would save up all of his money to buy Morgan a keyboard for Christmas. He felt guilty for going to Midtown Tech while Morgan was still in public school, but he knew that a music scholarship would be hard for her to get without any music lessons, or even an instrument. Life wasn't like the movies, Morgan wouldn't be discovered by a famous musician while busking on a street corner. If she wanted a future in music, it would take work…or at least, money that Peter didn't have.

The train lurched to a stop and Peter's knees knocked against Morgan's. She looked up briefly and smiled at her brother before turning her attention back to her phone. He purposefully bumped her knee again and she looked up expectantly, taking one headphone out. "Mo, what was your favorite part?"

"I like the little fluffy dudes, they were so cute," she said.

Peter just rolled his eyes at the answer, but grinned nonetheless. "Two more stops, okay?"

She nodded. After one more stop, Peter took her hand and maneuvered her to the door so that they had time to get off in the throng of people. It was a Friday night, and Peter had convinced May to let them see the movie, even though the only available (and cheap) tickets were for a late showing. Now coming back, it was dark outside, and Peter didn't trust any of the happy-drunk Mets fans that seemed to be everywhere.

The one thing Peter loved best about being Spiderman was his spider sense. Instead of mindless anxiety occupying his head on the walk home, he could trust his spider sense to keep him and Morgan safe. He was playing back the movie in his head, figuring out what he would text Ned about first.

When they reached the apartment building, Morgan yanked on his hand, "Peter, look at that pretty car!"

The car parked on the street was indeed, 'pretty'. Sleek and perfectly glossy, the deep black-purple Audi looked out of place in the line of ten-year-old rusty sedans and sticker-laden bus stop benches. "That's fancy," Peter managed to respond. "Probably a pimp or something," he muttered.

"A what?" Morgan questioned innocently.

"Nevermind."

The pair hiked up the three flights of stairs to the apartment, and Morgan bounced on her toes as he fumbled with the key to the door. "Can we have ice cream?"

The old, persnickety lock finally opened under Peter's hand, and he pushed into the small apartment. "I don't think we have any, sorry. Besides, it's way past bedtime."

"I'd say so." The male voice caught Peter by surprise, and he whipped around to find the source, instinctively hiding Morgan behind him. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of Aunt May with a cup of tea, sitting next to…Tony Stark. His idol. Peter froze.

Aunt May's sweet, gravelly voice pulled Peter back. "How was the movie, sweetheart?"

"It was…um, good."

"Mr. Stark came to talk about the internship. I'm surprised you didn't tell me! Peter, I'm so proud of you."

Morgan rolled her eyes and pulled out of the grasp that Peter still had on her hand. "May, I got a new book at school today, can I stay up late so I can finish it?" Mr. Stark and Peter were still staring at each other, but May was calm and Morgan was oblivious.

"I suppose, since it's a Friday night. Why don't you bring it out here, I think Mr. Stark wanted to talk to Peter privately and I suggested that they use your bedroom. Morgan shrugged and grabbed the book out of her backpack.

Mr. Stark stood up. "Pete, you okay? Want to talk?"

Peter's shock had turned to suspicion—he had never applied for an internship. He was 100% sure that if such an internship existed, he would have been the first to apply. As he led Mr. Stark to his and Morgan's bedroom, he checked in with his spider sense, and was a little confused when it was completely silent. The two looked around the room briefly, taking in the bunk beds and cluttered…well, everything.

Mr. Stark pulled out his phone and pulled up a video of spiderman. "Quick question of the rhetorical variety…that's you, right?"

Peter had slowly given up hope as the conversation progressed, counting the seconds until Mr. Stark reported him to the police or…you know…the Avengers. But instead, Mr. Stark started talking about…passports? "Mr. Stark, I can't go to Germany!"

"Why?"

"I got…homework." His heart was pounding. Homework, sure. But also, he had so many other responsibilities that were running through his head. If he went to Germany, who would make sure Aunt May takes her meds, and Morgan does her homework, and that they had groceries, and that rent and bills were paid on time…

"Okay, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." Mr. Stark looked…inconvenienced. He looked like he had expected a teenager to fly to a foreign country at the drop of a hat.

"What's in Germany? I mean, why do you need me? In Germany?"

"Have you been keeping up with the news, kid? The accords?"

Peter stiffened, not liking where this was going. "Are you going to arrest me? Is the UN going to like…question me or something?"

"What? No. The thing is…I need your help. The avengers are split, I'm sure the news has made that perfectly clear. But to be honest…Captain America has the upper hand right now."

"Because he has two super soldiers. And spies. And…a witch?" Peter was slowly comprehending why Mr. Stark might be desperate enough to come recruit a teenager. "You need me."

"I need you kid, so what do you say?"

Peter's gut was churning. "I…I still can't go to Germany. I have responsibilities here. Someone needs to take care of Aunt May and Morgan, and just, well, all of Queens. If I leave, then what? And…And I'm fourteen! I can't just go fight Captain America! That's ridiculous!"

Mr. Stark appraised Peter for a second. "I'll cover it."

"You'll…cover it?"

"Yeah. I got money, kid, I'll take care of things. And of course, I'll pay you for…your efforts. Compensation will be beyond reasonable. How does $50,000 sound?"

Peter went quiet. It was so much money. There was no way he could turn it down now. He fidgeted as he tried to figure out another option…any other option. It was frustrating that Mr. Stark had the financial means to just…bribe his way through life. But then Peter remembered the state of the Parker family bank account, and the rent bill coming in ten days. "I guess…I'll do it."

"Great." Mr. Stark stood up, about to leave.

"But—I think you should know— I don't know if what you're doing is…good. I…I don't agree with you." Peter stood straight, even though he felt less than confident.

The older man sighed. "The accords are good, kid. They're needed. As Spiderman, you don't leave too much collateral damage. But this is me fixing my mistake—we need the accountability. Otherwise, things get too big, too uncontrollable, for even me to clean up." Peter stayed quiet, but the honesty in Mr. Stark's voice had given him things to think about.

It looked like Mr. Stark was going to say more, but Peter interrupted. "I already said I would fight with you."

The man's eyes pinched in concern, but it was quickly replaced with a wide smile and a handshake. "I told May that you would be joining me at the internship bootcamp this weekend. I'll have my assistant pick you up tomorrow morning. Pack a bag."

After he left, and Peter had taken a few deep breaths in his bedroom, trying to process what happened, he went back out to the living area. Aunt May was waiting eagerly, and Peter tried to make his expression a bit happier. He slouched onto the couch next to her, and she slipped an arm over his shoulders, squeezing tightly. "Peter, I'm so proud of you." She asked him a few more questions about the internship, and he lied as best he could, feeling guilt eating away at him the whole time.

After Aunt May and Morgan went to bed, Peter stayed awake with the excuse that he was working on his homework. Really, he had compiled a list of things that Morgan would need to remember while he was gone. After googling the weather in Germany, he managed to throw together a bag of what he assumed an experienced superhero would bring on a mission, including extra underwear…you know, just in case. Now, he sat wrapped in a crocheted afghan on the living room couch nearly as old as Aunt May, staring at the muted TV as he tried to pull his thoughts together.

Mr. Stark had given him a choice, without really giving him a choice. Peter couldn't stop thinking about what he would do with the money…a real piano and music lessons for Morgan, maybe a maid or meal service to take the pressure of Aunt May. And the rest would go into savings for college or for emergencies. He could already feel the reassurance that the savings would provide. But his anxiety was running high thinking about the task that was set for him in the coming days. Fighting Captain America, and Hawkeye, Avengers he had dreamed about and looked up to. And…fighting for a cause that Peter wasn't sure he believed in.

Mr. Stark had made good points. Accountability was important, and people's lives all over the world were at stake. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that everyone with super abilities would do what is right. But Peter couldn't help worrying that one day he himself would be targeted. If the government could turn on its own Captain America, what would stop it from turning on Peter? And anchors on the news were always talking about the indexing that could happen—Peter could be forced to register himself and his powers. To give up his identity. To put the people around him at risk.

More than anything, Peter was scared. What was coming felt VERY different from anything that he had encountered in Queens.