Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Panting, Peter runs across the pavement, weaving through the busy New York streets, the sounds of the audience gasping and screaming. The sound of webs being fired overhead, the familiar quips. It’s just another New York day. And Peter. Well, he needs to get paid.

“‘Scuse me! Coming through!” the young boy shouts, pushing past the bystanders, a few annoyed growls and commanding words shout his way. “Hey, I’m just doing my job! Don’t like it, then MOVE!”

Arriving in a relatively clear section of the crowd, Peter looks up, the worn leather strap of the three-time self-repaired camera slinging around his shoulder. Squinting through his glasses, he readjusts the lens, lying in wait for his target to enter the frame. Taking a deep breath in, his eyes focus. The familiar, broad, red and black suit of Spider-Man spinning and swinging forward at high speeds. 

“There you are…” 

Click.

Pulling back from the camera, Peter looks at the image forming on the digital screen, the grainy image flickering to life as a distant, slightly blurred figure. Clicking his tongue, Peter looks around, not paying attention to Spider-Man or the large, blue, slimey creature that he's fighting. It’s not like he hasn’t seen this before. 

He’s definitely not the same kid that stopped and stared in awe as the black and red-clad superhero fought the alien goop. Eyes fixed on a fire escape in a nearby alley, Peter checks his surroundings, looking for any sign of NYPD before sprinting into the alley. 

“C’mon, Parker. Jonah really wants some good photos, so let's get some photos…” he murmurs to himself.  

Safely tucking his camera into his bag, lens cap placed back onto it, he grunts. He slowly swings the bag before letting it slip up onto the metallic ladder. The rattling thud of the bag landing on the fire escape makes Peter look back out of the alley. Small flecks of blood-red rust flicker down onto his nose. Wiping the flecks and giving a final check to the entrance, Peter runs, leaping up and pushing off the wall as he grabs the bottom rung of the ladder. 

“I guess I really should thank Coach D for all the climbing in gym,” Peter says through his teeth, pulling himself to the top of the ladder. Scrambling to grab his bag, he begins checking the camera, his feet hitting the stairs of the fire escape. With no damage to the camera, Peter finishes his ascent, walking across the roof, eyes scanning for any signs of New York's black and red icon. “Come on, Spider-Man… where are you? I need that money shot…”

Suddenly, a surge of wind catches Peter, knocking him back. The signature thwip of webs being released followed the rattle of glass panes. Did Spider-Man get caught in some kind of uppercut or kick? It’s hard to tell from this angle, but that doesn’t matter to Peter. Not when he can-

Click. Shutter. Click. Click. Click. Shutter. Click. Shutter. Shutter.

The quick series of images captured through the lens comes out in a half-breath. Instinct. A word Jonah has used to describe Peter’s knack for being his personal shutterbug when it comes to the ‘masked menace’ but that's beside the point. Shaking his head quickly, a big smile spreading on his face, Peter begins thumbing through the images. Blurry. Grainy. Pixilated. Perfect. Perfect. Blurry. 

“Hmm… Jonah might want a different type of image as well. Maybe one with just Spider-Man? I guess it’ll depend on the article he’s writing with it… One more.”

Turning his attention back to the fight happening in the air and on the street in front of him, Peter looks to see where the brawl seems to be heading. The broken sides of some of the buildings are scattering, accompanied with screaming and running as people run. People are always standing around and just watching, he thinks to himself, also contemplating the hypocrisy in the statement. 

Looking at the brawl, Spider-Man and Venom battering their way down the street, small pieces of rubble and dust being spewed into the air. Looking around the rooftop, Peter finds a large, wooden plank, snuggly hidden behind the roof access and what appears to be a pigeon coop. Running over and grabbing the plank, Peter looks towards the fight, placing the plank between the buildings and walking across it.

“Just. Don’t look down. Got that, Pete?” he mutters to himself, eyes focused on the roof of the building he’s crossing to. 

Gripping his bag and holding out his hands, he balances across the plank, acutely aware of the slight bend in the plank as he manages to cross the gap. Panting as he plants his feet on the stable rooftop, Peter groans. Seeing the fight turn down Lorimer Street, heading towards McCarren Park. Every time he thinks he's getting closer… Heaving the plank again, he continued his makeshift path across the rooftops of Brooklyn. Sliding down one of the buildings, using the plank as a slide to make his life easier, he dropped in front of a cafe before taking off towards the end of the street. Seeing another fire escape on the roof, the fighting still behind him, Peter charges towards the outside seating of the restaurant.

“SORRY! SORRY! GOING UP!”

“HEY!”

“KID?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Launching himself off a couple's table, the pair of men’s drinks spilling as Peter jumps onto the table and begins jumping up the wall, grabbing the rusty fire escape as he begins climbing. 

Panting and gasping as he ignores the cries below him, Peter sets up on the corner, eyes tracking the brawl behind him, the pair of super-powered individuals brawling and talking in an incoherent mess. The slamming of fists and bodies as they hit the rough tops or leap from them is the only noise in the busy streets. Keeping his camera steady, he focuses on the hero, finger hovering over the button as he turns off his brain. 

Shutter. Click. Click. Click. Shutter. Click. Shutter. Shutter. Click.

Breathing, Peter whips his head around, eyes and head following the impossibly fast movements of the two people slamming against each other. Grunting as he places some webs on the black goop, Spider-Man swings around and flings the large, insectoid-looking creature into the park. A stray tentacle from the creature claws its way towards the building, catching the edge of the rooftop.

“Oh n- AHHHHHHHHH!” Peter screams, the corner of the building he was laying on collapsing. Reaching back, he grips the ledge as it crumbles, falling back. His eyes widen as he feels himself falling. His eyes squeeze shut, thinking about how this could be it. The end of Peter Parker’s story. 

But the impact doesn’t come,  a soft lurching replacing what he imagined the concrete below pulling him along. 

Opening his eyes, he sees the familiar black and red suit of Spider-Man gripping him, “Hey, kid! You know you shouldn’t be standing on rooftops to watch the show, right? It’s free admission, after all!” the man says, Peter can almost see the smirk under the mask, “Wait… that camera, are you the shutterbug that’s been taking pictures for triple J? I was wondering why the images were getting cleaner!”

Peter’s eyes widen, stumbling as the larger man places him down, “Um, yeah! I’ve been trying to earn some money to help out with my aunt and uncle. I took a picture of you a while back and took it to the Bugle and-”

“Hold that thought!” Spider-Man says, holding up his hand as the large snarling sound of Venom erupts in the distance, followed by the screams of civilians, “I’ve got an alien insect to go smoosh. You know, I wonder where he got the weird insect form traits form. I don’t actually look like an insect…” he says mumbling the last two sentences under his breath.

“Uh, I read an article about the symbiotes saying they can take traits from their hosts, so maybe it, well…”

“...right, so Venom decided he would bond with a cockroach or maybe a spider? Maybe both? Great… That explains why he’s so resilient,” Spider-Man says, dropping his head and shaking it before saluting to Peter and slinging his way off to fight the alien goop.

Standing, slightly dazed by the encounter, Peter salutes back. Internally, he begins to reevaluate the experience before his eyes widen. Tilting his head down, he pulls up the camera slung around his neck, flicking through the images he's taken, a smile spreading on his face. The pictures are almost flawless. Heck, some of them are perfect. Now, he just needs to go to the Bugle.

Looking around, he spots a Stark Bike stand. He runs over as he fumbles around in his bag and pulls out his annual pass, a lucky win from a science convention a couple of months ago. Swiping it on the display, punching in his destination. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he waits for the bike to light up, the helmet light flickering as the GPS coordinates are uploaded into the display. Seeing the signature blue glow, he grabs hold of the bike handles as he takes off into the streets at a breakneck pace, helmet firmly fixed to his head.

The city streets blur around him, the GPS system speaking into his ear as he cycles through Brooklyn, through McCarren Park and the fight that seems to be leaving the area, over the Williamsburg Bridge. The rush of the wind against the exposed flesh of his neck sends a rush of adrenaline, the thrill of the money he’s about to receive coursing through his skin. 

“NOTHING CAN STOP ME!”

Well, nothing but traffic, apparently. Stuck behind a truck, Peter looks around the vehicle, eyes scanning ahead as he groans. 1st Ave is jam-packed, likely backed up because of the redirections of vehicles away from the brawl in Brooklyn, the early morning commuters yawning into their cups of coffee. Tapping his foot against the pedal, Peter clicks his tongue, eyes scanning the road. It looks damaged, likely from the Electro incident last week. Man, Spider-Man gets into trouble a lot. Another reason it’s so slow, Peter bets. 

Seeing the construction worker turn back to the road, flipping his sign around, the red tile changing to the green sides. The rumble of the engines begins ringing out from the truck in front of him, the vehicle beginning its rumbling path forward up the road. Cycling up past it, Peter makes a break for it. Passing the truck just as it slams on its breaks. The horn blares, and a red Honda skids past just behind Peter’s bike. Turning to see the crash, he sucks in a breath between his teeth, internally thanking his luck before seeing the damage to the back of the bike.

“You can’t be serious…” 

He groans as he glares at the driver, the elderly man sinking in his seat. The repair cost of the bike might actually take all of the money he’s about to get from JJ. That’s Parker luck for you. Always making life a pain. Cycling on up the road, the bike-hobbling Peter parks the bike at Freedom Plaza, placing his money, $45.50, into the machine to cover the repair cost.

Running up the street, he stops at the side of the Daily Bugle, the large words on the side of the building trailing down to the convenience store on the bottom floor. Taking a deep breath in, Peter begins climbing the stairs as he enters the building, taking the elevator up to the Bugle’s main office.

The soft sound of distorted radio music fills the small space, Peter humming along to the rhythm before the signature ding of the elevator arriving at the desired floor. Stepping through the swooshing doors, the sound of the elevator is replaced by the frantic ringing of phone lines and yelling filling the void. Papers fly as stacks are dragged and moved across the room by the busy staff. Navigating his way through the maze of desks, stacks of paper, coffee cups, and people, Peter squeezes his way to the large door in the back. 

Plastered on the door is a plated sign, the faded name of J. Jonah Jameson scrubbed into it. He knocks on the door. The signature gruff call of the chief editing staff inside, “YOU BETTER HAVE SOMETHING I WANT!”

“Mr. Jameson! I have some new photos of Spider-Man!” Peter announces, the door in front of him swinging open, greeted by the unusually warm smile of the man, the sides of his head greying, before being pulled into the room.

“I knew I could count on you, Parker! Now, let’s see what photos you’ve got for my latest article on the Spider menace.”

Pulling off his camera, Peter presses the chip on the side of the camera, the SD card popping into his hand as he hands it over to the man. Jonah clicks the SD card into the reader, the images beginning to load on the screen as he squints. The thin line of his lips hidden under his bushy slowly turning up into a smile.

“I should hire you full time, Parker! I won’t. Don’t need the lawsuit, but I should!” he says, rolling his finger down the wheel of his mouse as he selects the photos of Spider-Man he likes, “And the speed you get them to me! This fight is still going on!”

“Thank you, Mr Jameson.”

“How did you get these to me so fast?” 

“Oh! The Stark Bike program. Although I had to pay a damage fine because I was hit by a car that ran a light on my way here…”

“WHAT?! Parker, that is unacceptable! You should have gotten the insurance details or money from that reckless driver! You shouldn’t pay for other people's mistakes!”

“I… you’re right…”

Sighing as he looks at the crestfallen expression of the boy in front of him, “It’s alright, Parker. You’re young. You still have time to learn about all these things. I’m going to take four of these pictures and pay for that driver’s mistake.” Raising a finger as the boy is about to protest, JJ continues, “75 dollars per image like normal. Plus, whatever it cost for the bike. How much do I owe you, Parker?”

“345.50 dollars, sir…” Peter says reluctantly, watching as the man dips into his desk, pulls out a wad of cash, shoving it into an envelope and attaching a sticker on it to seal it.

“Very good work, Parker! I’m looking forward to working with you in the future! Now, aren’t you going to be late for school?”

“Huh?” Peter responds, pulling out his phone, “8:30?! I’m going to be late for the trip!” He turns, and the young brunette begins making a break for the door, “Thanks for the chance, Mr. Jameson! I’ll see you soon!”

Charging back through the office, ignoring the protests and calls from the older man as he presses the button for the elevator repeatedly. He watches the dial for the elevator slowly moving up, his eyes flicking to the stairwell, dashing towards it and flinging the door open. Leaping down the stairs in strides of three or four steps, Peter barrels down the stairwell, passing by a couple of office workers as they yell at him. Turning at the bottom of the stairs, Peter charges the door, flinging it open as he looks left and right before running down the street. He pants, reaching Freedom Plaza, scanning his card against the Stark Bike stand, a small projection appearing a shaking finger followed by a nuh uh uh , of Tony Stark’s voice.

Groaning, Peter looks down at his phone, ignoring the notification from the Stark Bike rack about his cooldown with the damage from the last bike. Looking at his phone, he debates calling Harry. Maybe he could meet his class at-

“PARKER!” the voice of JJ says from behind him, leaning out of the window of a taxi, “GET IN!” Shocked into action, Peter quickly checks the roads before darting over and getting into the car with the man. The older man looks at the driver, opening his mouth as he says, “Midtown High.” Sitting in silence, watching the world pass outside, Peter fidgets with his camera strap. 

“Um… Thank you for helping, Mr Jameson.”

“No worries, Parker. You forgot your SD card as well. Here,” the gruff man says, holding out the chip to the young boy. Eyes widening, Peter looks at the chip, slowly taking it and clicking it back into place in his camera as he clutches it.

“Thank you so much. I’m meant to be taking pictures for the school newspaper as well, so this… I would have been chewed out without this…”

Huffing, triple J looks out the window, “It’s alright, Parker. You remind me a lot of myself when I was younger. Just accept the help of the adults around you; you’re only a boy, after all.”

“I… right…”

“You know, one of my favourite sayings is ‘With great power comes-’”

“‘Great responsibility.’ At least that’s what my Uncle always says.”

“Hmm… While I do agree with the original phrases, I believe my own version of the saying is better. ‘With Great Power Comes Great Accountability.’ Something the spider menace doesn’t have, running around with a mask on, not presenting himself to the authorities…”

Sitting silently as he thinks the words over, Peter begins to form a question, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Hmm… I guess simply because it feels like whilst you’re trying to be responsible with your incredible talent, you don’t feel the accountability of it,” the man says, pausing to let the words sink in, “What I mean in simple terms is you’re too busy with doing what you think is responsible without thinking about the accountability, your reliability, to others. You need to learn to accept help, otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to build the Daily Bugle into the place it is today. Even if Robby keeps trying to make a ‘digital app’ version of my company.”

“I… see…” Peter replies, eyes looking at his feet as he processes the words of the man, the car shuddering to a screeching stop. The taxi driver turns to look at the pair, pointing at the meter as Peter goes to reach into the envelope to pull out money before JJ places the cash in the driver's hand.

“What’d I just say, Parker? Now go. You’re class is waiting for you,” the man says, nodding his chin in the direction of the beaten yellow school buses lined up outside the school. 

“I- Thank you, Mr. Jameson. I don’t know how I can repay you.”

“Bring me your school newspaper, an article written by you and the photos of Oscorp,” the man says, smirking as he notices Peters's eyes widen, “You really think that a master journalist wouldn’t sniff out that Oscorp is letting a group of kids run around their tower? Have fun, Pete.” 

Pushed out of the taxi, he turns to thank the man, but the taxi is already moving again, tires screeching as the yellow car turns around. Shaking his head, a small smile growing on his face, Peter waves the car off before hefting his bag and turning towards the buses. Seeing the familiar figure of Harry Osbron, crutch and all, arguing with a teacher before clocking him walking towards the buses.

“SEE! I told you Pete would be here!” Harry exclaims at the teacher, throwing his arm around his friend, “Sure, he was cutting it close getting here at 8:59 , but he made it! Now, come on, Pete. Let’s get on before they take off without us.”

Laughing to himself, Peter shakes his head, giving a small apology to Mrs Dolores standing outside the bus, the woman's eyes narrowing as she huffs. Stepping onto the bus, the noise of the students sitting in the vehicle quiet’s. The hushed conversations and whispers of Peter’s near-late arrival and snickers fill the silence as he and Harry move and sit in the back of the bus.

“God, my father would have a go at me if he knew I was sitting in the back of the bus,” Harry mutters, shuffling as Peter helps him into his seat, “He’d say it’s ‘ going back to segregation ’ and call it a mockery of the black activist rights. Like he actually cares.”

“We could ask if we can-”

“No. I like it. It’s peaceful, and we’re not going to have to worry about getting kicked in the back.”

“Just having things thrown at us then?”

“Just having things thrown at us,” Harry parrots, chuckling and shaking his head, “So why are you so late?”

“I wasn’t late technically. Just… extremely on time.”

“Right, and I’m Venom. Now spill, why?”

Pausing as he considers the words he's about to say before sighing and shrugging, “Pictures. For the Bugle, I had my camera, heard the news and…”

“Really, Pete? If you need money, you know you can always-”

“I appreciate it, Harry, but… but I’m not sure May or Ben would accept money that was just given to me.”

“You’re so difficult sometimes. Alright, Shutterbug, have it your way. I’m still buying you lunch once we get to Oscorp.”

“Sure thing, Prince.”

“God, I hate that nickname.”

Chapter Text

The school bus rumbles to a stop under the imposing shadow of the Oscorp. Glowing purple letters line the side of the building, the students filtering out of the vehicle, gathering in a huddled circle outside the building. Their science teacher, Mr. Warren, clears his throat gathering, his assistants doing a headcount, flashing a thumbs up to the middle-aged man once they’re finished.

“Alright, children,” the man begins, calling the attention of the students, some listening whilst others mutter to each other in hushed tones, “Thanks to my connection to Oscorp, we have been given special permission to see the facilities.” Pausing before huffing, clearly having expected some kind of applause, Mr Warren continues, “Now, we will be going through our safety briefing. Namely, the buddy system. That’s right, pair up people.”

Looking at Harry, the pair smirk at each other. Peter reaches over to punch his best friend on the shoulder as a shadow from behind them appears, coughing, “Harry.”

Turning to face the person, Peter gulps, eyes meeting the hazel eyes of Norman Osborn as he walks through the crowd of children. Groaning, Harry begins to follow his father, his crutch clicking against the concrete. Norman leans down, next to Mr Warren's ear, whispering something, the teacher nodding in response and smiling at the class.

“Now, Harry here will be part of our tour group, so I’m afraid you’ll have to pair up with someone else, Mr Parker.”

Sighing in frustration, Peter looks around, trying to find someone else to partner with, eyes briefly glancing at Mary Jane before looking away. He doesn’t need to see her talking with her boyfriend . Honestly, he’s still a little pissed that she started dating Flash of everyone… not that he really has any reason to be upset. He never told her how he felt. Continuing his search, his eyes glance around the group; the few people he can tolerate are already partnered up with someone. Eddie with Gwen makes sense, they are dating. There goes four of his friends. Pearl is with Lonnie, Jessica with Liz, and Betty with Cindy. How is it that all of his friends are already in groups?!

“What’s wrong, Parker? Can’t find anyone? Ha! Lonely Parker,” Flash taunts, smirking as he revels in Peter being stuck on his own. The comment sticks like a knife. His class continues to utter the words ‘Lonely Parker’ and snickers whilst his friends give him sympathetic looks.

Sighing, Mr Warren turns to look at the boy, “I guess Mr Parker will-”

“Have to go with me,” Norman Osbron says, looking between his son and Peter, “After all, Peter is a family friend of ours. Come on, Peter.”

Eyes wide, he shuffles through the crowd, gulping as he shrinks under the weight of the stares, “Thank you, Mr. Osborn.”

“Don’t worry, Peter,” Norman replies, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Besides, this way you can keep Harry entertained whilst we work around. I know this place can get boring. Especially when you grow up around it.”

“It’s not that bad…” Harry mutters, averting his eyes as his dad raises an eyebrow, looking down at the boy with a wry smile.

“If you say so. Now, Mr. Warren, how about we start the tour by going to visit your sister? I’m sure your… students would love to see the work of Doctor Warren.”

“Doctor Myla Warren?! The leading genetics expert?!” Peter mutters, looking at Harry, his friend shrugging as if it’s no big deal.

“I mean, we also have Dr Curt Conners.”

“You have the Lizard working for Oscorp?!” Peter hisses, eyes wide as Harry chuckles. 

“Yeah, Dad believes in second chances. Besides, Dr Conners didn’t mean to do all the things he did as the Lizard and keeps antiserum on him and in his lab in case he turns back. It’s not that big of deal, especially considering he’s one of the best biochemists.”

Peter blinks rapidly, processing the words as Norman finishes his explanation and rules to the rest of the class, turning and smiling at the boys, “I heard from Harry that you’re also very interested in biology. If you can help during the interactive sections of today's tour, maybe we can organise an apprenticeship.”

“That would be amazing, Mr. Osbron!”

“Just remember, Peter, you must be exceptional for that to happen. After all, with great power comes great respect.”

“Oh, right! Thank you.”

“Mr. Parker,” his science teacher calls out, “Please make sure you’re taking pictures as we start our tour. You are here as part of the school's newspaper as well.” Nodding as he aims the camera up at the Oscorp building, Peter misses the raised eyebrow and smirk on the face of the chocolate-skinned man he was talking to before.

Looking at the photo with a satisfied nod, Peter begins following Norman and Harry, the older of the two dark skinned men talking aimlessly about the tour. Scanning a card as they file through the security of the building, the guards scan the objects and people.

“You can’t bring the camera ins-”

“It’s alright, Terrance,” Norman says, cutting off the guard as Peter tries to enter, “He’s not going to share anything that isn’t already public after all.”

Giving a curt nod, the large, burly, blonde guard that Peter thought must have been Flash’s father motions for Peter to walk through. Following the instruction, Peter shuffles through the metal detector, standing next to Harry.

“So, I guess this means we won’t be seeing any prototypes or experiments then.”

Giving his friend a side eye, Harry raises his eyebrow, “You wanted to see some?”

“I would sacrifice my camera for the chance.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll talk to Dad to see if we can, uh… sneak off during lunch to go see some of the more experimental stuff we’ve been working on.” 

“You don’t have to Ha-”

“Nah, I think we both know you’re gifted, Pete. Heck, seeing some of these experiments will probably lead to a breakthrough, so don’t thank me when I’m doing this for selfish reasons,” Harry responds, using his crutch to walk over to his Dad. The pair have a hushed conversation, the occasional glance thrown Peter’s way as he wonders what they’re talking about. Watching the smile on the older Osborn’s face growing wider, Peter assumes the news is good. Maybe not. Honestly, he hadn’t met Mr. Osborn before. He’s normally too busy, so when Peter has hung out with Harry, it had only been the pair of them. Well, and the security guards. Watching as his friend flashes him a thumbs up, Peter grins. Today might actually be going his way for a change.

“Now that we’re all scanned and safe to enter the building, I would like to formally introduce you to Oscorp, home of innovation and the exceptional. Today, we will be showing you our leading research in plant genetics, where we are working on creating new plants that can resist harsh climates.” Walking through the twisting, pristine halls, the plant-lined walls glimmering, Norman leads the group of students to a glass room. “Doctor Warren, our lead geneticist, is just through these doors. We have various plants incubating here, although I don’t know the specifics too well myself,” Norman scans his card against a black tablet as he opens the door to the room, “However, I’m sure Doctor Warren would be more than willing to discuss these details with you.”

The room is bright. Lights flickering above walls of planters and benches, the room smells of nothing, like all humidity has been sucked out of the room. A tall, wirey woman looks over at the open door, her hand still trailing across the leaf of the plant in her hand. 

“Oh, Norman! I almost forgot that we had this today!” Turning to look at the students, the woman pulls her goggles off of her head, placing them on her pushy hair. “Please excuse the frizzled hair. Low humidity doesn’t agree with it. Now, who’s ready to learn about the genetic traits of these plants?”

The lecture that follows is long, and students in the class have their eyes glaze over as they blank out. Peter moves around the room, following Doctor Warren as she continues her explanation to Peter, seeming to sense he’s the only one in the room actually paying attention. His camera moves, taking pictures of various leaves and patterns, his hands flying over his notepad as he writes notes on the different compositions of the plants.

“-and so, these plants are using cacti genetics to store and collect water for longer periods and thus produce grains!” 

“Really?”

“Well, in theory. The problem, as you can probably see,” she continues, hands running through the green grain growing in one of the planters in front of them, “is the additional water content increases the density of the plant, resulting in an increased amount of hollow and useless material upon harvest.”

“So the actual output is lower than what it needs to be.”

“Exactly! Doctor Foster and I have been working on it, but we haven’t had much luck.”

Pausing his pen, Peter uses the object to scratch his chin, focusing on the problem as he begins doing mental gymnastics, “How about aloe vera?”

“Aloe vera?”

“Yeah, aloe vera stores and compartmentalises water into a gel-like substance that can be eaten. Theoretically, if you could combine and hybridize the traits of aloe with prickly pear inside the grain, you could harvest the flesh of the plant whist drying out the seeds and husks for use in flours.”

“I see… plus, if we increase the flame repellent properties of the aloe vera…” Doctor Warren mutters.

“You also reduce the risk of the plants burning. Plus, if you use the aloe vera as more of a base for the grain, it can be grown all year, and you just have to break off ‘leaves’ when you want to eat it and dry out the leaves. It also increases the amount of seeds and husk producable, and you can use the water stored in the leaves to make bread which-”

“You’re a genius.”

Peter blinks, the words leaving the woman's mouth louder and unexpected. The class seems to stir at the words, blinking and looking around as if they’ve just woken up. Someone begins clapping, and soon the room is filled with applause as Peter stares wide-eyed at this class. His face flushes, and he looks away, not used to the positive attention.

“So, I can assume, Mr Parker has-”

“Norman, we need to bring this boy into the company.”

“All in time, Myla. Now, I think that’s enough of that,” Norman says, looking at the slightly bored and dazed faces of the students. Looking down at his watch, he opens his mouth, about to say something, when a man, his green eyes scanning the room, rushes over and begins whispering something into Norman’s ear before turning to Doctor Warren and repeating the motion. The expressions on the two peoples' faces go dark as they glance at each other. “I believe that now would be a good time for lunch. Harry, would you be kind enough to guide your classmates to the cafeteria?”

“But what about-”

“We can do that after. Something urgent just happened, and I believe Doctor Warren and I will need to attend to it. Please, Harry.”

Nodding in defeat, Harry sighs, quickly pushing through the crowd towards the door, “C’mon. Cafeteria is this way.” Leading the group through the halls of the building, Harry shoves open the door to the cafeteria.  It’s sterile. Militantly scrubbed clean with tiled floors and blaring white light. The sprawling food trays are stacked high with various dishes as the students fan out, finding their places at the various tables as they break into groups with the food. Spices and scents burn Peter’s nostrils as he begins to move towards the food before his wrist is grabbed.

“Wha-?”

“Come on, we’re going to go look at something cool,” Harry says, flashing a security card as his eyes dart around to see if there's anyone watching, “Let’s go. In and out, ten minutes tops.”

Groaning, Peter looks between the food and the excitement on his friend’s face before relenting, “Okay, okay. Where are we heading?” he asks as they push through the door, silently treading out of the cafeteria and through the halls of Oscorp.

“Relax. I know how much you like spiders so I asked Dad to give us permission to look at these rare spiders they’ve found in the Amazon. Said something about looking at them because of Roxxon or something. Apparently, these spiders can produce a toxin potent enough to temporarily paralyze animals as large as an elephant without having an effect on humans!”

“Whoa, really?! That’s a huge scientific breakthrough!”

“Yeah. I don’t really know much else about them, but they also seem pretty docile. I think someone was saying they act a bit like dogs.”

“Huh?!”

“Well, come see for yourself,” Harry says, swiping his card on a blacked-out door, the room opening as the pair of boys squeeze into the room. Terrariums line the walls, a collection of various spiders lining the area as Peter walks over examining the varieties of aracnids, “Didn’t you say you were working on some kind of silk styled polymer?”

“Oh! Yeah, I was trying to reverse engineer Spider-Man’s webs. Just to see if it was possible to improve them, you know?”

“Hmm… I don’t think that it’s very healthy of you to be studying, Spidey. You might get abducted by some weird villain.”

Walking over acoss the room to where Harry is standing looking into a terrariums which Peter assumes contains one of the spiders. Leaning down, he frowns at the empty container, “That’s not normal, right?”

“Nope, and now I know what Dad’s dealing with,” Harry says, sighing as he places the terrarium back before pointing to another terrarium above it, “There’s a couple others as well, but if one of them gets out and it happens to be a female…”

“It could cause problems for the ecosystem. That’s bad, Harry,” Peter mutters, observing the spiders in the other container, “Ah!” he yelps, a sharp bite on his neck causing him to flinch as he reaches for the back of his neck.

Pulling his hand back, Peter watches as the spider, an iridescent blue over a reddish-brown, scuttles across his hand. The eyes of the arachnid studying Peter’s face as it seems to apologize to him.

“What’s wron-? Oh. Looks like you found the spider.”

“Yeah, I think… did it just… but they’re meant to be docile…”

Frowning, Harry slowly opens the lid to the terrarium, holding it up to the spider, letting the creature climb back into its container before placing it back, “You feeling good? I know I said the whole thing about-”

“I don’t know where it is! We don’t have a tracker on the- Harry?” Doctor Warren says, entering the room with Norman as they look at the boys.

“Uh, so we found one of those rare Amazon orb-weaving spiders that you were talking about on the way to the cafeteria. We caught it and just putting it back,” Harry lies, casually, looking confident as Peter straightens up and clears his throat.

“You found it? Where was it?”

“Just outside the cafeteria. It was crawling down from the ceiling to the door,” Peter chimes in.

“I see,” Norman says, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “It must have been hungry. Myla, please increase the amount of food it receives. We don’t need a repeat of this incident.”

“Absolutely, Mr Osborn.”

“Now, you two, I’m assuming you also enjoyed looking at the spiders, but you two are growing boys. Let’s go back to the cafeteria and get you two something to eat.” Following the man as he ushers them out of the room, the pair head back into the cafeteria, grabbing large trays of food, which they promptly shovel into their mouths. 

Clapping his hands to gather the attention of the students and staff, Norman looks around the room. As he turns, Peter and Harry glance at the older man, his eyes gleaming as he begins addressing the room, “Now, I hope you’ve enjoyed your food. We will continue with the tour of the facilities. How about something a little more exciting? We have some-” 

Peter coughs, gagging as his hand reaches for his mouth. The heads in the room turn to look at him.

“Are you okay, Pete?” Harry asks as he reaches over to touch his friend on the shoulder. 

Shaking his head, the brunette goes to open his mouth before gagging again, a horrible mixed metallic taste in his mouth, “Bathroom.”

“Down the hall on the lef-”

Bolting out of the room, Peter charges towards the bathroom. Flinging open the door, Peter rushes to a toilet, opening the stall door before locking it. Violently lurching over the porcelain throne, Peter begins heaving, his entire body shuddering as blood, litres, maybe gallons, spill out of his mouth. The basin is filled with a sickly sweet scent of metal painted red, and Peter feels the contents of his stomach churn and burn. Gagging at the violent sight of his blood spilled into the toilet, Peter vomits, adding to the putrid mixture as he flushes the toilet and starts shaking against the tiled floor. His head pounds, his heartbeat seeming infinitely louder than it should be as he breaks out in a cold sweat. Wiping the blood from his face, Peter slowly stands, legs shaking as he grips the door handle before a knock on the door startles him. 

“You okay, Peter?” Harry asks, his voice laced with concern as he hears Peter slam his head against the door.

“I don’t… something didn’t agree with me, I think. I just coughed up blood.”

“What?! You need to go see a-”

“No, it’s okay, Harry. It was just a little,” Peter replies, cutting off his friend as he shakes, thinking about how full the toilet had been with his blood, “I just need to rest. You think you can tell Mr. Warren and maybe call May? Just tell her I was sick.”

“...If you’re sure you’re okay, Pete… I’ll be back in five. Just hang tight,” Harry responds, his crutch slowly clicking out of the bathroom as he opens the door, the restroom door clicking shut behind him. 

Peter groans, pulling open the door as he walks to the mirror, staring at the pale and hollow face that greets him. Touching his face, Peter sighs, looking at the blood covering him as he turns on the tap and begins cleaning his face, the blood and vomit caked onto it dying the sink in a putrid mix of brown and red.

“What's happening to you now, Pete?” he mumbles to himself as he stumbles to the door and pushes it open. Walking down the corridors, he absentmindedly follows Harry, the boy having called out to him after seeing him exit the restroom. 

His mind is hazy as he steps down, and he feels a pair of arms thrown around him as he looks up. The worried face of Aunt May and Uncle Ben saying something to him that he can’t quite understand. Gripping his head, Peter's mind swirls, hundreds of thoughts suddenly seeming to be appearing in his mind. Grunting, Peter falls to the floor, the world around him blurring. In the distance, he can hear faint shouting. His skin burns, muscles searingly hot. His breath catches, his heart and mind racing with dizzying thoughts.

He closes his eyes, the world drifts into darkness, and Peter rests.

Chapter Text

Peter gasps, sitting up from his bed in a cold sweat. He blinks around the room, eyes adjusting to the familiar sights of his room. Frowning and squirting, Peter looks at the objects, the strange colours attached to the normally plain oak bookshelf. Hues of what he can only describe as neon lights scribe over the ordinary wooden knots and turns. Tilting his head as he stands, Peter looks at the bookshelf, fingers glossing over the surface as he hums and frowns.

Maybe it’s- Peter begins thinking before gritting his teeth and hissing. The voice in his head was louder than he expected. Reverberated words and gasps cause his mind to spiral as he tries to process what's happening. But it doesn’t happen. The thought is instant, understanding coursing through him. Parallel processing. Somehow the spider biting him is letting him… no, giving him more processing power. Maybe it would be more accurate to say it’s more like his mind is a computer that's been given more processors. He’s not sure how many, but based on the number of voices he just heard, it's at least four or five. 

“This is insane…” Peter mutters, turning away from the fluorescent lights on the bookshelf, his eyes glancing over the rest of the room at the fluorescent patterns in the natural items, “Wait… is that ultraviolet light?! Why can I… Spider. But then does that mean-, right, test.”

Looking at the ceiling, Peter reaches up, about to touch the ceiling, when something tells him the door is about to open. Lowering his arms as he turns to look at the door, he hears a soft knock, mentally taking note of the feeling.

“Peter? Are you up?”

“Ah! Yes, May, I just woke up,” Peter replies, the familiar grey-streaked auburn hair of his Aunt enters the room. Her weary grey eyes, the wrinkled crow's feet at the edges, seem to relax, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she places a hand over her chest.

“Oh, Peter. Are you feeling better? We heard about you being sick and rushed to pick you up. Once we got there, you just collapsed!”

“I’m sorry to cause you problems, May.”

“Oh, it’s not fuss, really. I was just worried because you were asleep for so long! It’s been two days!”

“Wha-! I was asleep for that long?”

“Yes, dear. You must be famished, I’ll prepare some wheatcakes for you. Your Uncle Ben and I will be waiting for you downstairs.”

“Thanks, May,” Peter replies, smiling at the older woman, “I’m just going to get changed and get ready… I’ve got to go thank Mr. Jameson.”

“Alright, dear. Don’t take too long now.” She smiles as she ruffles Peter’s hair. May steps out of the room, clicking the door closed behind her. She begins having a muffled conversation with Ben, and she walks down the stairs.

Smiling as he hears the faint chatter between the pair, Peter begins pacing the room, reaching for his glasses. Pausing as he begins to place them on his face, Peter frowns as he notices the distortion and blinding light of the ultraviolet patterns. Sighing as he puts the glasses back down, he squints. Alright, so time for a little science. Something to alter the curve of the light and make it so the patterns appear clearer.

Patting his body over, Peter frowns, his hand resting on the small bite from the spider before looking at his now incredibly toned body. The previously wirey and bony physique is replaced by… well, it’s not a complete transformation. More like he seems to have more muscle and fat on him. He looks… healthier; heck, his skin is a lot clearer. He thinks to himself as he starts pulling on jeans, a yellow polo and blue flannel. If he's gaining powers like Spider-Man, then maybe he needs to work on the muscles? He does remember how skinny and lean Spider-Man was when he was starting out. He couldn’t have been older than Peter either. Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, maybe he can…

Peter is knocked out of his thoughts as he reaches for the door, a web shooting out of his wrist as it attaches to the door handle. Blinking in confusion, Peter begins pulling at the silk, fumbling with his drawers as he pulls out a beaker and tips the silk into the container. His hands grapple with the microscope and other scientific equipment as he pulls them out and begins fumbling around noisily. 

“Peter? What are you up to, Bud?” Ben calls up, the sound of his feet slowly working their way up the stairs.

“It’s nothing! I just forgot about an experiment I was doing, and I’m just checking on it!”

“I see. It’s nothing dangerous, I assume?”

“Just some bacteria cultivation!”

“Alright. Your Aunt is almost ready with her famous wheatcakes!”

“I’ll only be a little longer!” Peter shouts back, carefully arranging the silk onto the microscope, pausing as he looks at the small pool of clear liquid that's developed at the bottom of the beaker.

Shaking his head as he focuses on the silk in his hands, he begins analyzing the structure, his mind running calculations as he determines the strength and amount of webbing he can probably produce. Tilting his head, he slowly presses his wrists, feeling down his forearm as he begins humming, feeling a pair of weird glands that seem to have developed between his radius and ulna. The two glands, seeming to rotate, attached to the bones as he gives a gentle squeeze, a small amount of webbing popping out of a near invisible hole that opens on his wrist where the arm connects to the palm.

“Huh… natural webs. I wonder if Spider-Man can do this too…” Peter mumbles, looking at the beaker with the clear liquid in it as he clicks his tongue. As much as he wants to analyze it, he doesn’t exactly have the equipment for it, and neither does Midtown, so he’s going to need to get rid of it. Sighing as he gets up, he grabs the beaker, covering it with a couple layers of PVC and stashing it in the back of his science locker behind his other chemicals. 

Walking down the stairs, he bumps into the walls of the stairs, the fluorescent lights blinding in their hues. His eyes adjust automatically to the sunlight, the once-yellow or orange stream now looking like a beam of shifting stained glass. Yawning, Peter hits the bottom stair, seeing the face of Uncle Ben, his long, grey mullet pulled back as he reads the newspaper.

“Mornin’, Pete. How you feeling, Slugger?”

“Better. Something in the Oscorp cafeteria must not have agreed with me,” Peter replies, sliding into the seat next to his uncle.

“Jonah published another two articles on Spider-Man whilst you were knocked out. Credited your photos and everything.”

“Really? What were they like?”

“The usual. Complaining mainly about how no one seems to want to do anything about the bloke, calling him a menace and saying he endangered lives. Not that he’s wrong, but Spider-Man does use his power responsibly.”

“I think that's the problem,” Peter says, pulling a couple of wheatcakes that Mya places onto the table onto his plate, lathernig them with butter and maple syrup before cutting them up, “He was telling me that he believes a better version of the saying would be accountability.” Pausing, Peter thinks as he shoves a few bites of the food into his mouth, “Actually, Mr Osborn also had his own version of the ‘Great Power’ speech. Respect.”

“Oh, really, dear? I wonder what they’re thinking.”

“Hmm… I don’t know if I agree with either of their choices but…” Ben says, flicking the paper down as he looks at Peter, “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?”

“Oh, right, uh… well, I kind of tried to put them on this morning, and it was… well, the world was blurry,” Peter explains, looking at the worried faces on their faces, “But it’s fine! I can use the money I got from Mr. Jameson to pay for new lenses!”

“Alright… will you be okay until then?”

“I’ll make do. My vision isn’t that bad after all,” Peter says, finishing his plate as he adds another wheatcake to his plate, “Besides, I can just grab them before I go to class.”

“If you’re sure… don’t push yourself too hard, kiddo. You only just recovered from that fainting nonsense.”

“I’ll be fine, Ben,” Peter says, standing up, “Thanks for the food, May; I’m going to head out.”

Huffing as she hugs the boy, May pulls back, waving her spatula in his face, “Alright, now off with you.”

Peter smiles, leaping up the stairs, grabbing his bag and glasses before hopping out of the window towards his treehouse. He slides down the trunk of the tree and begins running. He feels light. Like he could run for hours without stopping. Turning the corner as he keeps dashing, he feels the similar tingle from earlier at the nape of his neck, his senses screaming jump, as he leaps over a car. 

Not stopping his movement, Peter keeps running, testing the limit of his new sense. His mind blurs as it seems to process information instantly. Slipping and weaving through the crowd as he lets his instincts take over guiding him, Peter can’t help but let out a laugh at how ridiculous of a situation he’s using his powers for. He’ll definitely need to figure out a better way to use his powers responsibly. Probably also figure out a way to use them whilst still being held accountable. That’s going to be a problem. Peter muses the question over as he slows down outside of the opticians, the scent of the deli shop next door to the black and orange building catching Peter’s nose, his stomach growling. He gulps as he looks at the bagel store before entering the optician's.

“Peter!” the Asian woman, Mrs. Salinger,  behind a counter calls out as she sees the boy, “What are you doing here? Where are your glasses? Did your glasses break again?”

“Hi, Mrs. Salinger! Oh, no. I just… Well, I woke up and I couldn’t really see very well, everything was too bright when I put my glasses on so I was wondering if there was anything you could do.”

“Photophobia? Let’s have a quick check then, shall we?” she responds, leading Peter into a room. Carefully, she begins pulling out equipment, flicking between the different optical settings and lights as she observes his eyes. The lights are blinding, a strange, hypnotic mix as the light rattles around his skull before the woman pulls the machine away.

“So what’s the verdict, doc?”

“You definitely have developed photophobia, and while I question how, I think it’s more important we get those glasses tinted so you can see. Pass them here.”

Reaching into his pocket, Peter passes the large round frames of his glasses to the woman. He watches her as she carefully pops the plastic lenses out of the frame, humming to herself as she works. As she leaves the room, Peter fidgets in his seat, foot tapping against the floor as he waits for what feels like forever. 

Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Salinger returns, handing him a set of glasses. The lenses are now dyed a dark green hue as she looks at him with a wry smile.

“Now, I had to put a pretty high contrast on these, and I only had green in a dark enough hue, so no complaining.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Salinger,” Peter says, taking the glasses and placing them on his face as he adjusts to the new light, the vibrant colours of the world toned down as he looks around the room, “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now, here's a medical note. I assume you’ll need one for school.”

Taking the note sheepishly as he looks at the smirk of the woman, “Right… how much do I owe you for this?”

“120, but because I like you, I’ll break even with 90.”

Fumbling into his bag, Peter pulls out the envelope of money, thumbing through the cash and taking out 120 dollars before 30 of it is pressed back into the envelope. Trying to protest, Peter reaches to hand the woman the money before he’s picked up and pushed out of the shop. 

“-But!”

“Nope, now get yourself something from the deli and go to school. I could hear your stomach growling before you entered the store.”

Flushing at the comment, Peter looks down, “Alright. Thank you.”

Waving at him as he walks over to the deli, Mrs. Salinger closes the door going back to her store. The deli is a wave of scents. Fridges stocked with more drinks than Peter can name line the shelf, and a small grill sitting behind the counter sizzles away as the smell of turkey and spices fill the air. As Peter looks over the menu.

“Hey, there, Tifl, what can I get for you?” the Arabian man behind the counter asks, smiling as he looks at Peter, “Coffee?”

“Could I get the… Turkey sausage combo, oh, but squish it down real flat if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, sure,” he replies, turning to the young man behind him, barking out the order in Arabic, “Nice glasses, Tifl. You get them from next door?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Sallinger said I developed light sensitivity, so I needed the tint to protect my eyes.”

“Huh, and you choose green?”

“Uh… Not exactly. It was the only hue that was dark enough for what I needed.”

Whistling, the man turns, placing a coffee mug on the counter and pointing over to a table with various condiments and a small fridge with milk. Taking the coffee, Peter walks over to the table, adding a dash of milk and two packs of sugar before placing the lid back on the drink and sipping. Getting the now familiar sensation of the tingle on the back of his neck, Peter reaches out and grabs the burrito and hashbrown wrapped in foil.

“Damn, Tifl, with reflexes like that, I’d assume you were the Devil from Hell’s Kitchen.”

Laughing, Peter shakes his head, waving at the man as he begins walking out of the store. He unwraps the burrito and takes a bite, savouring the flavour. Smiling to himself as he quickly devours the food in three bites, he sighs, throwing the rubbish in the trash can as he continues walking towards the school.

His eyes flicker around to the colourful hues of the world around him, taking in the new spray of rich purples and blues that mix and mingle with the other hues in a dazzling neon spray. Looking at the football field, he sees Flash and Eddie discussing something with Lonnie. How he made friends with Eddie and Lonnie is beyond him, but Peter can’t help but smile as he looks at the time on his phone and notices he’s early. He can’t help but wonder if it's part of his newly acquired powers. He shrugs, continuing on his path past the practice field, spotting the familiar sight of the sleek, black Osborn limousine pulling up to the school as Harry stumbles out. 

“Harry!”

“Pete? You’re actually here! Man, it’s been hell without you here. I’ve had to endure Flash’s usual antics by myself. Well, I guess Liz had my back but…”

“Anything important that I miss?”

“Hey! My well-being is important! Especially after the accident! But no, you didn’t miss much. Well, aside from the football team getting absolutely obliterated by Brooklyn Visions.”

“Damn, Flash and the crew got beaten by the science specialists?”

“Yeap. Hence, why they’re training, like, twice as hard. They ‘don’t want to be beaten by those nerds again.’”

Heading up the stairs into the school, Peter and Harry walk past the busy hallways, ignoring the gossip of the students that watch them pass, as they open their lockers. Reaching into their lockers to grab their biology textbooks, the pair close and lock the red boxes, the sound of the boxes clicking into place settling Peter’s nerves.

“So what’s with the new glasses, nerd? You faint from a little food and suddenly come back with green glasses? Someone’s trying to look cool for the ladies,” the sound of Flash’s voice rings out from behind him as Peter slips past a hand that was about to shove him into the locker.

“Seriously, Flash? The first thing you do when seeing Pete is try and make fun of him?” Lonnie asks as he shoves the quarterback in the shoulder.

“Yeah, got to agree with Lonnie here,” Eddie says, looking over Pete, “But I also agree that those glasses are fucking terrible, dude.”

“They’re for photophobia.”

“...what’s that?” the blonde quarterback says, looking to Lonnie and Eddie as the pair roll their eyes.

“Light sensitivity. Probably means that when Pete passed out on the field trip, the food caused a problem with his brain.”

“So, he’s just weak, puny Parker like always?”

“Dude, this is a serious problem,” the albino teen says, a scowl on his face as he looks at Flash, “Have some kind of empathy. He’ll probably have to wear tinted glasses for his entire life, plus if it was an emergency fix, they might have only had green for the lenses. Sorry about Flash, Pete.”

“You’re fine, Lonnie.”

Harry and Peter watch as Eddie and Lonnie pull the boy away from them, heading towards the lockers on the other side of the hall. Peter sighs, starting to walk towards the teacher's lounge with Harry quickly hobbling to keep up with him.

“You know, I’m surprised you’re childhood friends with Eddie.”

“Eh, my dad worked with his on some projects, that was basically it.”

“Still… Did you actually get photophobia?” Harry asks, looking at the glasses that sit on Peter’s face.

Waving the medical note in front of Harry’s face, Peter nods, knocking on the door to the teacher's lounge. Waiting for a muffled ‘Come in’ before pushing open the door and looking around the room. Seeing the face of Mr. Warren and Mrs. Doughty in conversation, the two silver-haired teachers are comparing notes, whilst Mr. Pettit sips on a cup of coffee.

“Mr. Parker. I assume you’re feeling better,” the broad bodied and faced man says as he places down his mug, “Why are your glasses lenses green?”

“Photophobia. Heres the medical note for it.”

Taking the note, the assistant Principal grunts as he walks out of the teacher's lounge. Peter quickly follows after him, stopping once he gets out of the door as he watches the teacher walk away, assuming the man is going to be filing it in the proper place in the school's medical system.

“Well, that went well.”

“Mr. Pettit seemed to be in a good mood.”

“Pete, the man thrives off the suffering of us students. He’s supprecharged after we lost to the Ravens.”

Laughing, the pair start walking off to their science class. The hallway melts into the background as they focus on their heated debate on which Avenger is their favourite or what powers they want. It’s mundane. A calm vision of what can be in an ordinary life, but Peter can feel the tug. The pull of his powers calling for him to do something with his life. But for now, for this day, he’s just going to be plain old Peter Parker. Smiling as he enters the vibrant science lab, the friends settle into their seats, their conversation interrupted by their collective friends. Peter’s eyes drift to the window where the light shines into the room.

The peaceful light of ultraviolet hues.

Chapter Text

The monotamy of the day is tiring. Not because Peter has had to exert himself in any meaningful way, but the repeated explanations about his new glasses are giving him a headache. Turning around, Peter begins pulling off his clothes as he begins getting ready. Hearing a whistle, Peter turns, seeing the familiar snobbish face.

“Huh? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, Peter. Just noticed you’ve filled out a little,” Ned says, the red-haired boy says, eyes assessing the boy's body, “Guess that means you’re Aunt and Uncle have finally started managing to feed you enough, huh?”

“Shut it, Leeds.”

“Ouch. Calling me by my last name? That hurts, Pete. You should at least call me by my first name.”

Peter stays silent, the redheaded boy sighing, raising his arms and shrugging. Stalking away, the boy begins talking to some of the other members of his class. Laughing as they send sly glances at the boy. Ignoring them as he pulls on his gym clothes, Peter walks past Ned and his goons, shoulder pushing past the largest teen, Jack, as he walks into the gymnasium.

The linoleum-lined floor greets him with the distinct citrus scent of the floor cleaner. He hates this scent. Sure, he likes Coach D, but gym class just tends to remind Peter of his physical weaknesses. Well, that might be different now. It really will depend on how much he needs to hold back. Peter’s current assumption is that he’ll be stronger physically, not just mentally. Now, he just needs to figure out how much he needs to hold back. 

Bending down, Peter begins to push off the ground slowly, feeling himself leaving the ground too fast and pauses. His theory of trying to use about ten percent of his current strength was off. Really off. If he had used that much strength, he’d likely have jumped about twenty feet. Frowning, Peter slowly pushes, imagining himself hopping as he raises off the floor. Sure, he definitely was still higher than he would like, but this does prove he’s gotten increased strength and maybe agility. 

“Peter! Glad you’re feeling better!” Coach Delladova calls out, walking over to the brunette as he continues stretching.

“Hey, Coach D.”

“It’s basketball today. Warm-ups in five. Feel free to keep stretching until then! Oh, and I like the glasses, even if they’re for a medical reason.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

Smiling as he pats the young man on the back, Delladova goes back to flicking through his clipboard, his lean muscular frame accented by the light. For a moment, Peter pauses, looking the man over as he sees him struck by the light, his mind screaming a single question. Why does Coach D have such a similar build to Spider-Man? Well, not that it was possible. Peter’s seen the two in the same room before.

Hearing the door behind him open, Peter doesn’t even turn, knowing that the other students are filing into the room. Standing up at the sound of Coach D’s whistle, Peter jogs over to the semi-circle forming around the man as he begins explaining something to do with basketball. Peter’s not really paying attention; he's more focused on testing how little strength he needs for common movements. He did think initially that he’d have about ten times his weight, but some spiders can technically lift over one hundred and seventy times their body weight. Maybe he’s on that end of the spectrum. Thinking about it, maybe he should ask Harry for a list of details regarding the rare spider that bit him. It might help him determine what his parameters are.

“Alright! Ned, Jake, Jess, and Liz. You four will be the captains for the teams. Pick you’re four teammates, and we’ll go from there.”

Peter blinks, watching the four people walking to the front of the class. Sure, he was kinda friends with Jess and Liz, but he doesn’t really know them. They were more friends of friends, so honestly, he’s not confident in this. Sighing, he accepts his fate to be picked last as he watches the teams form.

“Peter.”

“Huh?”

The eyes of the group turn to look at the shocked brunette, staring at the other brunette boy whose hair is considerably messier, giving a certain young Justin Bieber meets Troy Bolton feeling. Pointing to himself, Jake nods as Peter stumbles forward, still shellshocked.

“Good to have you on the team, Pete.”

“Uh- Thanks for picking me, Jake.”

Laughing, the other boy nudges his shoulder as he smiles, “It’s fine. I thought I snap you up since I saw that jump earlier.” 

“Oh. That…” Peter mutters, eyes widening as he sees Liz and Jess raising their eyebrows as the team selection continues. 

“Right. Now that that’s sorted,  we’ll start with Ned’s Team vs Jake’s Team and Jess’s Team vs Liz’s Team. Ready?”

Seeing the students nod, Coach D and his assistant, a petite blonde woman, begin the matches, throwing the balls into the air. 

“LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE!” 

The match has been lopsided. Jack has been dominating the game, using his combination of height and strength to bully the much smaller team. It’s frustrating for Peter. He could just use his powers to win, but that isn’t exactly the responsible thing to do. The words Uncle Ben has been drilling into his head since Peter started admiring Spider-Man rattling in his mind. Sighing, Peter looks at Jake as he starts shouting something to his team.

“HEY! One basket! One basket and we’re back in this!” Jake shouts, his eyes meeting Peter’s, narrowing as he nods towards the basket. 

Should he do it? Ah, whatever. He’ll do it. Running between Ned and a blonde girl whose name Peter can’t remember, Peter watches Jake. The ball in the brunette’s hand flies through the air towards Jack, the tall Italian teen grinning as he leaps for it.

“We win!” 

“Nah,” Peter says, hopping into the air as he sees Jake’s ecstatic face as he grabs the basketball in both hands. Pulling the ball over the larger man, he slams the ball into the hole, pushing off Jack as he lands. The gymnasium is silent, all eyes turning to look at Peter before the sound of Jake’s feet squeaking against the floor breaks the silence.

“THAT’S IT, PETE!”

“How about that,” Coach D says as he laughs, eyes gleaming, “Looks like, Peter’s come back even better.”

“Oi, Parker. How did you-” Jack begins to ask, the ice blue eyes of the boy on the floor begins to ask. Suddenly, the wall to the gymnasium shatters open. The bellowing of a bull pierces the air as the students scream, smoke, and dust spray into the air. Emerging from the rubble, huffing as he shakes some of the debris out, is a Minotaur. It glows purple with dark grey steel as the construct shudders and raises to its feet. Opening its mouth, it bellows at the students, raising an hammer, the blade popping out with a purple glow as it swings it towards the crowd. 

Eyes wide, Peter reaches to grab the blade before it can hit anyone else as the sound of webs attaching to the weapon fills the air. Shimmering as he flips into the gym, Spider-Man yanks on the weapon, sending it clattering to the side as the Minotaur’s eyes narrow, and it bellows at the spider.

“Sorry! I think Hephastus’s mechanical bull here was meant to be a statue! He doesn’t seem to understand the roles of Stuck in the Web,” the man in the spider costume quips, firing off webs as he tries to distract the Minotaur, “Now, if you could all please leave in an orderly file!”

“We’re on it, Spider-Man!” Ned yells, leaping to his feet, his eyes shining as he nudges Jack, helping him to his feet as they start moving people out of the gym. Peter pauses, watching as the superhero spins around the large mechanical bull-man, blasting it with electricity through his kicks and punches. 

“Seriously! Next thing you know, this thing is going to start breathing fire like the-” Spider-Man begins saying as his eyes widen. Peter gets a tingle at the back of his neck as he sees the mechanical jaw unhinge, a spark igniting in its mouth as Peter leaps back, a jet of flames arching between him and the door.

“PETER!”

“GO! I’LL FIND ANOTHER WAY OUT!” Peter yells over the sound of the flames to Coach D as he grits his teeth. Watching the red-haired man begin to start forward, the bull-man tilts its head towards the door. The man slams the door shut, a loud grunt resounding from behind it as the flames engulf the outside of the door.

He runs under the bleachers as he watches Spider-Man perform an uppercut of the Minotaurs jaw before zipping to the ceiling behind him, dodging a swing of the construct's fist. 

“Why don’t you just quit?!” a distorted voice says from within the mechanical suit.

“Well, you know, I don’t think testing unstable, potentially extremely dangerous energy sources under Queens is something that this place is zoned for.”

“Got to get outta here…” Peter mumbles, idly listening to the banter between the two superpowered individuals. Seeing an open door, he lunges forward, diving into the room as he looks around. The storage closet, equipment stacked neatly in piles, is open, another door pulsing with a dull heat as Peter fumbles through the room. He groans as he sees the furnace room, the stairs leading down, open in front of him, “Well, at least I can keep running… Not that there’s much of a place to go.”

Darting into the furnace room, the sound of the fight behind him growing quieter, Peter darts down the stairs to the basement. Seeing the glow of the firelight at the bottom of the stairs, he spins, looking at the empty room. His feet kick up dust as he moves. Standing next to the furnace as he looks at the box at his feet. Large letters written on the box of  ‘Lost and Found’. 

“What do I do now?”

His thoughts are interrupted when the wall to his left crashes down, and the floor of the gymnasium suddenly thrusts past the basement and into what looks like a reactor below it. Peter’s eyes widen as he takes a closer look, his mind whirring as he sees the swirling mass of dark and light energies colliding in what he estimates is a very unstable manner.

From the wreckage, the bull-man shakes his head, raising to his feet, eyes locking onto something above Peter’s head. Raising his hand, Peter frowns, looking above him as he wonders if the Minotaur thinks he can use the force as the large hammer slams down on his chest. Heaving from the impact, he begins to lose his footing on the ledge. Watching Spider-Man web the large horned man and throw him into the air before slamming him into the ground, Peter wonders how the man was doing that as he enters free fall.

“And stay down!” Spider-Man yells as he swings around the room, his eyes flicking around the room. Spotting the flailing form of the boy as he zips over and snatches him out of the air, placing him back in the furnace room, “You alright, kid? Wait, aren’t you the triple J photographer?” he asks, eyes narrowing as he looks the boy up and down.

Looking at the man, a strange tingle runs down Peter’s spine, his eyes twitching as he watches the lenses of Spider-Man’s mask seeming to mirror his own. For a moment the pair just stare at each other, unsure of what to say.

“I was bit by a spider,” Peter blurts out, trying to fill the silence.

“I figured… Man, I thought I was the only one,” Spider-Man responds, both of their attention drawn to the reactor room as a large bulb looking structure begins to be elevated into the room, crushing the gymnasium floor that was above it, as a ring of what appears to be a particle accelerator closing in around the structure, “Right, I’ve got to deal with that, but if you stick around I can show you the ropes? Maybe get you a costume as well.”

“Yeah, that would be great…”

“Alright,” the black and red-clad man says, stepping back towards the edge of the room, “Don’t move. I’ll be back soon.” Flipping off into the reactor room below and swinging around. He begins crawling around the room, taping the panels of the reactor room. The lights in the room begin turning on, emitting a faint, eerie hum, and the room begins to pulse with energy. 

Leaning over the ledge, lying on his stomach, Peter watches the man move, trying to figure out how he is sticking to the panels and moving. His eyes flick to a small glass window box. Seeing people moving around and tapping controls on panels before the hairs on the back of his neck rise, a red and black blur jumps out of the shadows of the room, tackling Spider-Man. 

Peter gasps, watching as the other man, also with a spider emblem, begins to throw punches and kicks in a manner that looks like it’s straight out of an action film. Hook, jab, jab, kick, hook, uppercut, kick, jab, jab, jab. Peter marvels as he takes in the barrage of attacks and how Spider-Man weaves around them, dodging and deflecting the attacks with his hands and webs. 

Just as he thinks the hero has the upper hand, the Tarantula, or at least that’s what Peter was going to call him, manages to land a devastating kick to the hero's stomach, sending him flying back into the spinning disk of the particle accelerator. 

He watches as Spider-Man flips over the moving component of the accelerator, only to be met with another relentless barrage of kicks and punches. Peter narrows his eyes, his mind taking in Spider-Man’s posture and movements as he comes to one conclusion. He’s tired. As Spider-Man is flipped on his back and kicked back into the ring of the particle accelerator, Peter leaps to his feet, running over to the ‘Lost and Found’ box as he rummages through it, looking for clothes he can change into.

He glances back, looking to see how the situation is as he hears the heavy click of the mechanical Minotaur roaring as it leaps up, cracking the back of his fist against Spider-Man as he tries to zip towards Tarantula. Pinned beneath the two men, Spider-Man thrashes about before turning his head, looking at a blonde woman as she walks into the glass observation room, a large bald man walking up behind her as the two villains bow in her general direction. Peter strains his eyes, trying to figure out what’s happening, as his eyes widen. 

Redoubling his efforts of finding clothes, Peter grimaces as he pulls on a long-sleeve unitard jumpsuit and balaclava, webbing his glasses to his face. Looking down at the group as he sees the chamber lowering, Peter closes his eyes, stepping off the edge as he angles his body towards the ceiling, his wrists flicking out as he fires two lines of webbing sticking to the ceiling. Opening his eyes, he yanks himself forward, flying through the air, suddenly realising he doesn’t know what to do next as he hurtles towards the two villains on top of Spider-Man.  

 Slamming into the Minotaur at full force, Peter gasps for breath, coughing as he rolls across the floor. As he places an arm under himself to look up, Peter sees the metallic bull-man stumbling back, bellowing as he raises his hammer to charge. Eyes wide, he tries to stand up to avoid the attack before a black and red blur slams into the creature, orange and red energy sparking as he blasts the side of the creature.

“Alright, then, Camera Boy! We’re training on the fly!”

“Hey! It’s Arachkid, not Camera Boy!” Peter retorts, flipping onto his feet as he stands back to back with Spider-Man.

“Heh, I like the name.”

“Thanks. I’ve been brainstorming it for the last eight years.”

“Wait, you wanted to be my sidekick for eight years?!”

“Partner, but yeah.”

Looking around the room, the spider duo watch as the minotaur stands back up, the electricity cackling off of it’s mechanical hide. Crouching down, Spider-Man prepares for the machine to stop shaking. The lenses of his mask creak as hs eyes dart to the slowly approaching face of the large, red suited man, the black, clearly tarantula, symbol that Peter can now see glimmering.

“What is this? Take your rookie to work day?!”

“Are we a joke to you?” the Minotaur bellows, steam ejecting from its nose as it thuds against the floor. The energy in the room is charged, the ring around the partcle accelerator is a blur of motion. 

“It’s not like that guys! Dario, Luis, I know we’ve had our differences but you’ve got to see that fighting right now isn’t going to help!”

“Yeah?! The contract says otherwise.”

Groaning, Spider-Man drags a hand down his face as he clicks his neck, “Seriously?! You’re prioritising a check over your life, T? You have a daughter!”

“And that’s why I need the money, Spider. Now let me put you and you’re little sidekick in a body bag so I can go back to my daughter.”

Clicking his tongue Spider-Man looks at Peter, his mind clearly questioning what he should do as the two villains begin to charge towards the pair. Grabbing the kid by his back and flinging him into the air, Spider-Man twists himself over the minotaur, watching as his hamer slams into the side of Tarantula. 

Peter yelps as he’s thrown, twisting through the air before he begins falling. Eyes wide, he watches, wincing as he sees the Taratntula and Minotaur begin arguing. A strand of webbing reaches out, grabbing him and pulling him to the ceiling as he comes face to face with Spider-Man again.

“You know how to stick to the ceiling?”

“Nope.”

“Um… How do I explain this… Think sticky thoughts?”

 Peter fumbles, placing his hands and knees on the ceiling, copying the technique of the man infront of him. His mind races, thoughts of maple syrup, honey and Oobleck. Feeling the hand on his back slowly moving away, he lets out a sigh as he sticks to the ceiling, the noise echoing Spider-Man’s own.

“Okay. Cool, that’s the first step. Now did I see you have webs? Where are your shooters?”

“Oh, no. They’re natural.”

Watching as the black and red mask infront of him blinks twice, eyes going wide before narrowing as he looks closer at him, Peter gulps. Did he say something wrong? There’s no way, right?

“Okay… Ganke’s going to have a field day learning about that. So how do you, you know,” Spider-Man says, mimicking the motion of shooting webs as the pair ignore the yells of the villains below them.

“Squeezing my forearm, like this,” Peter replies, pointing his right hand towards the larger of the two figures, his index and ring pressing into the base of his plam, a stand of webbing shooting down and smacking the armour of the figure, the bull-man’s eyes narorwing.

“Okay… so hips point where you want to swing. Shoot, pull, release. Got it?”

“Right. Wait, how is this going to help?”

“Eh, you’ll se-”

Spider-Man pauses, flipping back off the ceiling with Peter, the tingle in the base of Peter’s neck alerting him as the hammer head of the Minotaur slams into the ceiling. Pulling on the chain, the Minotaur throws the attack again, the spider duo twisting and dodging.

“Here! Shoot a line straight at your target and use the swinging technique, like this!” the older man shouts over the crushing sounds of the hammer crashing through the panels. Peter’s eyes track the man, watching as he seems to hand mid air, hips angling at the large target as he fires two webs at the minotaur, wrapping his hands around the lines before pulling himself forward, slamming into the mechanical exoskeleton, a whirring sound ringing from the suit.

Eyes shining, Peter grins from behind the thin mask on his face as he angles himself towards the smaller man. His mind clears, instincts that he thought could only help him with taking photos of Spider-Man kicking in. Throwing one hand forward, he fires a line, shooting the web missing the Tarantula who leaps out of the way, snarling. Undeterred, Peter continues, pulling himself forward, twirling before righting himself and landing a brutal backheel against the mans chin.

“Holy- YOU’RE A NATURAL, KID!”

“Thanks! I just did what I normally do when I take photos of you!”

“That makes so much sense! Man this is going to be- LOOK OUT!”

Frowning, Peter notices the tingle on the back of his neck. Whipping his head around to see what he was sensing, Peter’s face is met with the crack of a fist. Tarantula’s red fist colliding with the teens cheek, making him stumble and fall to the ground. Following the attack, the man kicks him in the stomach, the boy responding with a guttural cough, a small splattering of blood leaking from the boys mouth. 

“Arachkid!”

“I’m fine…” Peter mumbles, fist punching the ground, a small crater forming as he pushes himself up, “I got this. Focus on Mino’s poster man-child.” 

Letting out a spluttering cough as he turn to face the man, his bones creaking having clearly broken a rib or two, he looks at the Tarantula. Raising his hands and giving his best ‘bring it on’ look beneath his mask and glasses, he watches the Tarantula’s eyes narrow. The large man slowly circles the boy, cracking his knuckles.

“You’ve gt spirit, Araña, but I have experience,” the man says, his voice thick with what Peter assumes is Columbian, although the hint of Mexican is kind of throwing him off.

“And you’ve never faced a kid like me!”

Raising an eyebrow, a small smirk on his face as he looks over at Spider-Man before turning back to Peter, “I’m pretty sure I have, kid.”

Charging forward, the red-clad villain slams his fist forward, Peter barely managing to avoid the attack before the second punch draws itself forward. Throwing his arms infront of the attack, Peter spins back, arms falling to his side as he barely manages to catch himself on the side of the accelerator’s spinning ring. 

He grunts, perching on the moving ring, as he tries to focus. His mind races, a hundred questions burning away as his mind tries to answer them. Pushing the questions aside, he narrows his eyes, shaking his head. Suddenly, his vision clears. The spinning slows. For a split second, Peter’s mind is stunned, his body working on instinct as his arms pull forward and lauch webs at the villain he’s fighting. Pulling himself forward, Peter kicks the man, landing on the opposite side of the reactor chamber.

“How did I…”

Before he can continue the question, Peter hears a roar before a slam and crack. The sound of breaking metal burns through the air as a spray of black and white shimmer through the room. 

“NO! WHAT ARE YOU IDIOTS DOING?!” a shrill, feminine voice cries out, Peter’s eyes darting to the glass box as metal shutters close down around the structure, “DO YOU HAVE ANY CLUE HOW MUCH THIS COST?! AND YOU’RE RUINING MY EXPERIMENT!”

Feeling a web attach to his back, Peter looks up seeing Spider-Man as he’s yanked into the sky.

“Time to go.” 

“What about-” Peter begins, eyes snapping to where Tarantula and Minotaur where previously. The two figures now gone, Peter’s eyes narrow as he looks around trying to spot a trace of the two men.

“They’ve cut their losses. But this is a win for us. Managed to shut down an experimental reactor… although JJ’s gonna have a field day with this one. ‘Spider Menace’s cause destruction of school!’. Like it’s actually our fault the reactor was built here.”

“But what about-”

“I fight guys like that every week, Arachkid. They’ll be back. Now come on. We don’t want to see what happens when that blows.”

Feeling himself being dragged away by the older man, Peter slowly follows him, webs shooting from his wrists as he leaves the broken school. A couple of seconds pass, the school eerily quiet in the mid-afternoon glow before a dull thrum of energy followed by a muffled black and white pulse erupts from the gymnasium. Sighing, Peter looks at the school, slowly lowering himself as he debates his next move.

“So, Arachkid, what’s your name?”

“Huh? Oh, right… um… can I ask why?”

“So I can tell the teachers and you’re parents that you’re safe before we go anywhere. You know, responsibility and all.”

“...Peter Parker.”

“Alright, Peter. Give me, like five seconds and I’ll be back.” Watching as the man swings away, Peter faintly sees the distant discussion between Spider-Man and Coach D, the red-head nodding along to his words. Seeing the man begin swinging back to him, pointing in the direction of Manhatten, Peter starts swinging, slowly falling in line with the man.

“So…”

“You’re Aunt and Uncle are being called. I told your Mr. Deladova you were shocked by the incident so I’m planning on cheering you up.”

“Oh, okay,” Peter responds, his mind questioning how that worked. Following after the man, the almost mythological being that represents New York, Peter’s mind whirls with questions.

The main one; what have I gotten myself into?

Chapter Text

The silence of the swinging to wherever they’re heading is chilling to Peter. He’s used to hearing Spider-Man quip and talk the heads off of just about anyone and everyone. Heroes, Villains, civilians, politicians- normally, no one is free from the quip master. Well, aside from those few times when he was wearing the all black suit.

“Um… are you-”

“I’m so tired!” the man yells over the wind. Peter begins to notice how his swinging is slow, almost lethargic, as he continues forward.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh, just fighting villains non-stop this week. Work has been hectic as well. God, I wish I could just go back to my apartment and relax.”

“...and you can’t because the city needs Spider-Man.”

“Exactly.”

“Where are we going?”

“My friend's place. He works out of Greenwich Village. We need to run some tests, see what those webs of yours can do, etc., etc.”

“Oh. Okay…”

Falling back into silence, the pair continue to swing through the city. The wind is whistling through the air past their ears, forming a quiet barrier around them. It’s still unnerving. The silence stretching between them is piercing, almost bruising Peter’s ego as he thinks about what to do. He used his powers responsibly but failed to get results. He didn’t gain any respect, he wasn’t held accountable for failing. 

Is this really okay? Can he keep going like this? This is how Spider-Man has operated in this city for years. Maybe he should just trust him. That makes sense, right? There's no reason to-

“We’re here!”

He stops mid-air as he watches Spider-Man zip onto the top of a building. He fumbles in mid-air as he tries to stop, latching onto the side of a building with a web as he slowly swings onto the side of the Octavius Industries building. Crawling up, he sees the mask of Spider-Man peering over the edge as he looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Where’d that natural spark go, Peter?”

“I’ve only had these powers for a day! Relax!”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on,” he replies, reaching a hand down to pull Peter up. Grasping the hand as he grunts, lifting himself onto the top of the building, Peter looks around.

“Huh. Your friend works for Octavius Industries?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Nothing. It’s just that my best friend is Harry Osbron, so I’m not sure how things are going to go, considering Mr Osborn and Dr Octavius’s checkered past.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re past that now. I mean, sure, Doctor Octavius is… heated about their personal history, but as long as we don’t bring it up, it’ll be fine.”

“Right…” Peter responds, watching as Spider-Man grabs a backpack from inside a vent. Pulling out some clothes, he smells them, balking at the stench before pulling a can of air freshener out and dousing the clothes. Slowly, the man begins to pull out some more, smaller clothes as he tosses them to Peter.

“Sorry about the smell. The fumes in this place are unpredictable. Some weeks, Ganke and Doc’s experiments go really well; others, they create a nuclear cloud of ash and soot. Get changed.” Nodding his head towards a shed on the roof, Peter hurriedly runs into the shelter, pulling off the clothes, that he’s now realising are extremely warm and sweaty, as he pulls on the clothes. 

A baggy, long-sleeved red shirt under a black t-shirt, some faded band that used to be on the front worn away, and a pair of way too baggy jeans. Peter grimaces at the aesthetic but doesn’t question it as he readjusts his glasses, pulling out the threads of webbing that attached them to his face. 

Stepping out of the shed, he’s greeted by a young African-American man. A tattered hoodie and denim jacket slung over his large frame as he glances at Peter. Feeling the appraising look on the man's face, he watches as his face seems to make an ‘it’ll do’ motion, eyebrows raising as his eyes close and head rocks back and forth. 

“Uh…”

“Miles. Miles Morales. Although, Shutterbug, you know me as Spider-Man,” the man says, shoving his hand in front of him. Grabbing the hand as he shakes it, Peter nods slowly, “Just a heads up, Pete. If the Doc’s in the house, don’t say anything about me being Spider-Man.”

“Ah, okay.”

“Good. Come on, let me introduce you to Gank.”

Watching as the man begins walking away, his hands tapping the sides of his legs rhythmically, Peter follows. His eyes track Miles's hands as he taps, wondering if it’s some kind of code before hearing the humming melody of the man as he pops open the rooftop door. 

Sliding down the staircase, the duo arrive at a door. A sign with the plastered words and symbol of Octavius Industries sits in silver letters as Miles pushes it open, looking around the empty room. The space is filled with robotics equipment. Soldering irons, motherboards, 3D printers and more are stacked around the room in a neat and organised way. 

“Ganke? You there?” Miles calls out, walking around the room as Peter follows like a helpless puppy. Would it be a puppy? Considering the pair are both spider-themed heroes. Well, maybe it’s a stretch for Peter to call himself a hero. Eyes focusing on what looks like a drone, Peter leans closer to the object, hand reaching out to touch it.

“I wouldn’t if I was you!” a voice yells, startling Peter as he turns to see a large Asian man, hair pulled back in a tight bun. His eyes are soft and kind as he looks between the object Peter is reaching for and Miles, “The things busted. It keeps shocking the Doc and me.”

“Ganke!”

“Heya, Miles. How’ve you been, bud? Did you get the issue sorted?”

“It’s fine, Gank. Peter, here is the reason why I need your help,” Miles says, looking around the room before leaning closer to the man, “He’s like me. Kinda.”

“Whoa, really? How can I help?”

“We just need to run some tests.”

“Miles?” another voice calls out. An older man with a cane asks as he starts walking towards him.  

“Doc!”

“Come by later,” Ganke mumbles, his eyes looking at the middle-aged man who hobbles over.

“How can we help you?”

“Well, Peter here is a little bit of a science bug, and when he found out I knew you, he asked if he could come check some stuff out. Sorry about not calling ahead.”

“Ah, I see. So, he must be a patron of your store then.” Reaching out a hand, Doctor Octavius shakes Peter’s hand, “Doctor Octavius, biophysicist. Is there anything specific you’re looking to specialise in?”

“O-oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir! You’re incredible. Your studies on nuclear physics are awe-inspiring! I particularly liked the ones on the possible safe applications of gamma radiation.”

“Ah, yes. That was… a great theory of mine. It’s a shame I couldn’t secure funding to complete the array. Are you looking to enter nuclear physics then?”

“Oh, no,” Peter mumbles, scratching his head sheepishly, “I just study all the sciences for fun… I think if I’m going to focus on anything, it’ll be biology.”

“Ah, I see. I guess that means you’d like to see some of our experiments on mechanical limbs?”

Eyes widening, Peter nods, following the Doctor. A pair of arms lay out on a table, a remote controller lying next to them as Peter’s eyes flutter to the objects. Watching as the Doctor passes him the remote, he waits for an explanation.

“This is a test model for a set of mechanical arms. Ganke has been helping me work on a neural interface chip, programming and coding the equipment to work better. These arms are rather simple, though.”

Pressing on the controller, Peter watches as the arms begin moving and adjusting, his eyes looking over them as he drinks in the form, his mind whirring away as he mentally jots down some ideas. Biting his tongue as he watches the slow movements of the arms, he continues guiding them, trying to hold back what he’s thinking.

“What is it, Peter? Did you think of something?”

He hesitates, looking at the controller and the arms as he thinks about the best way to form the answer, “I was… thinking that maybe a combination of magnetic movement and hydraulic compression might make it move and react faster, similar to a spider’s anatomy.”

“I see… that makes a lot of sense. If I adjust the proportions to surround a compression system instead of the mechanical leverage of the pistons, it would let the arm respond quicker… I also could provide more versatile options like… Thank you, Peter. I have some wonderful new ideas for them now. Ganke, please give them something to drink before seeing them off.”

Walking away, Peter hears Doctor Octavius mumbling under his breath, his hand on his cane tapping against the octopus carved into the top as he sits at a desk. His hands fiddle with some computer parts and mechanical components, his mumbling increasing as the pieces slot together, a dull hum ringing through the room as he adds some kind of plastic to the device.

“Right, come on, Miles, Peter. We’ll go talk in my coding room. Is coffee alright for you both?”

Nodding as he follows the rotund man into a room, Peter looks around, seeing the organised room, various machines in differing states stacked or hung in their own individual cases. A large desk with an assortment of five monitors hangs in the corner, facing away from the door and windows tucked into a corner. Sitting down on the sofa, Peter watches as Miles whispers something to Ganke before the latter leaves the room and 

Pulling out three mugs, all slightly chipped, the Korean-American exits the room, quickly returning with a half-full pot of dark brown liquid. Pouring the coffee into the chipped mugs, Ganke turns, passing the mug with the least chips to Peter.

“We don’t have any milk or sugar. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Peter responds, wrapping his hands around the lukewarm mug, the scent of the caffeine hitting his nose as he takes a sip. He watches as Miles does the same, leaning back against the window as his eyes droop and flicker between open and closed.

“So, I’ve got to ask,” Ganke begins, sitting on the office chair and spinning to face him, “What’s with the glasses? Actually, scratch that. Tell me all of the spider-powers you’ve developed, or at least noticed.”

Scratching his cheek, Peter looks over at Miles, hearing the faint sound of snoring as he gulps. His eyes dart back to the excited face of Ganke, taking a deep breath in,  before he begins the explanation of his powers to the man in front of him.

“Wait, wait, wait. So, the glasses are to what? Dull the world down?”

“Yeah. My running hypothesis is that I gained the ability to see the UV spectrum of lights like some species of spiders.”

“And that looks like neon lights?”

“I… I think it’s more accurate to say that because I can see darker colours, lighter colours look even more vibrant.”

“Well, that's… unusual. I wonder why M didn’t get that… Any camouflage or venom blasts, or is it just the natural webs and UV?”

“No camo or venom,” Peter replies, thinking for a second, “Actually, I’ve also noticed that my mind seems to be… fragmented? That’s not the best way to put it. It’s like I’ve got-”

“Multiple brains? Huh. I wonder if the UV is part of that.”

“C-could it?”

“Maybe. I’d have to run some tests which… well, we’ll wait until Doc’s out and done with his experiment.”

“Okay…”

“Anything else?”

Peter pauses, his mind instantly remembering the liquid that came off his webs, “One more thing. My webs seem to leak some kind of liquid.”

“Oh, that’s a big thing. You know what it does?”

“No clue.”

“Well, I guess we’ll check it out… it might be you’re own type of venom. Some kind of natural toxin that you release through your webs.”

“Like an orb weaver.”

“Like an orb weaver,” the man parrots, looking at Miles as he sighs, “I’m gonna call Hailey to come pick him up. He was really pushing himself to stop Roxxon for the last… month? All I remember is that he hasn’t slept in a week. If you hadn’t been at the school… Well, thanks. Spider-Man’s alive because of you.”

“I…” Peter begins to say, feeling his cheeks flushing as he tries to burrow into the sofa from embarrassment. He sees the Asian man pull out his phone, his finger hitting some buttons as he sends a message. A short wait before the phone buzzes, and Peter watches as Ganke stands up, opening the window as he looks outside. His eyes widen as he hears the sound of someone climbing the fire escape, turning fully as he prepares to fight.

“Whoa! Chill. It’s just Hailey. Miles’ girlfriend. Although, I keep telling him to just marry her already. I mean, we’re 26, for crying out loud. She’s known he was Spider-Man and supported him from basically day one.”

“Ganke-”

“Right! Getting off topic. I do that sometimes, sorry. Anyway, relax. Hailey was already in the area, so it didn’t take long. Miles is going home now. I’ll stick with you, though- Oh, hey, Hailey. He’s just here,” Ganke says, signing the last part as a young woman, dressed in a mix of hipster and punk attire, vaults into the room. Peter frowns at the sight of her. Something in the back of his mind, like an itch, makes him confused.

“Hey, Ganke. Thank you for finding him. He wasn’t responding to my texts or calls,” the woman signs back, Peter’s eyes watching the ASL. Narrowing his eyes as he looks at the woman, his mind racing before it clicks into place. 

“Hailey Cooper. The mural and artist from Harlem that’s been commissioned by the state?!”

“Oh, you know her?”

“I… I work for JJ.”

“Ohhhhhh… wait, you’re the Peter Parker that’s-... been taking photos of Miles?!” Ganke half shouts, his voice quieting as he realises the increased volume. Hailey looks between the pair, clearly trying to read their lips.

“Who is this?”

“Oh, this is Peter. He saved Miles. He’s… the same as him,” Ganke replies while signing.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Cooper. I’m a big fan of your work.”

Smiling as she watches the boy's hands move, Hailey nods, “Thank you for saving Miles. I’ll make sure he rests so he can train you properly. Also, just call me Hailey.”

“Oh, right.”

Peter smiles, watching as she pulls at Miles, trying to move him. Raising an eyebrow as Hailey looks at Ganke, the man walking over to help her, Peter tilts his head, the smile dropping from his face.

“Pete, any chance you can come pull Miles off the wall? I think he might have subconiously stuck himself in place.” 

“That’s possible?!”

“You haven’t done that? Wait, that doesn’t matter, just come help.”

Doing as he’s told, Peter walks over to the older man, hand reaching for the gap between the wall and the man’s back. Yanking on the man's back with as much strength as he can muster, Peter hears him groan as a sudden pop rings out. The unconscious man falls and slumps against him, causing Peter to grunt as he tries to shift the man.

Moving to flank the man, Ganke and Hailey lift him from Peter, the latter slowly helping him out of the window. He watches the pair carry the man he now knows to be Spider-Man down the fire escape, questioning just how many times they’ve done this to be as efficient as they are. As the Asian man waves off the couple as they get into the back of a yellow taxi, Peter slips back onto the sofa. The thud of the door closing and the tread of the man returning up the metal floor to the room fills the silence that the whirlwind of friends left in its wake.

“So, Peter, I guess whilst we’re waiting for the lab to clear out so we can get to work, I should ask you some other questions.”

Tilting his head as he raises an eyebrow, the boy silently questions the man's intentions. 

“Oh, come on. I mean your codename. You know, like Miles being ‘Spider-Man’. I also want to know how old you are, which borough you live in, where you go to school. That sort of stuff so that if there's a spider-emergency I can contact you.”

“Wait, what?”

“Well, I mean, I am Spider-Man’s guy in the chair,” Ganke huffs, patting his monitors as he looks at Peter, “Or did you think this was just for show?”

“I- that makes a lot of sense actually. I… I’m 15. I live in Queens and go to Midtown… went to Midtown? The place was pretty badly damaged,” Peter says, looking down as he twirls his thumbs, “And, um… I was going to use the name Arachkid.”

“Oh, nice name. A lot better than some of Miles' first names. The Webbed Terror, for instance,” Ganke mentions off-handidly as he clicks the name into the keyboard, the computer screens sputtering to life as he pulls up schematics.

“I… I can chang-”

“Pete, dude, you’ve got to realise that you can be more confident.”

“What?”

“You’re The Arachkid. Sure, right now, you might not feel like much, but you’ve saved Spider-Man, fought two supervillains, stopped an experimental energy source from detonating under a school, and you’re clearly intelligent enough to make Doc Ocatvius interested in you, and that's something that I’ve never seen before. You’re incredible… Maybe we should use that as your descriptor. The Incredible Arachkid .”

Peter blinks, his brain slowly registering the information as he listens to Ganke as he starts rambling, fingers gliding across his keyboard as he continues talking to the boy, not realizing the words are falling on deaf ears. His mind fumbles for an answer, still lost in the realization that he’s starting to become something more. The words of one person ring in his mind as he thinks. You have to be exceptional .

“No. From everything I’ve been told, I can’t be just Incredible. To be responsible and accountable, I have to be… Exceptional.”

“Ooooo, I like that! The Exceptional Arachkid , huh? I guess we’ll make you feel like that tomorrow. For now,” Ganke says, his fingers gliding on the keyboard as he changes the project title, “let's start by designing a Spider suit.”

“Wait. What?”

“I mean, Miles is great. He’s smart enough to make technology that he can use as Spider-Man, but me? I’m the one that makes them possible. Well, that and his Uncle Aaron, but we won’t get into that right now.”

“So… where do we start?”

Smirking, Ganke pulls up a model of a human body, “Colours, or mask?”

Chapter Text

Peter groans as the fresh morning light bursts through his curtains. The weekend was a rush. Spending hours testing suits with Ganke, eating pizza and having the man run through numerous tests. The strangest of which was the ‘blood’ test. It’s the only real way for Peter to describe the newest change to his body. Hemolymph. The blue, copper-based fluid that runs through a spider's arteries, which explained vomiting up a small gallon of blood into an Oscorp toilet. 

Which is still confusing. Peter seems to have the same, heck, maybe better, regeneration ability that Miles does, but he should have vomited more blood. Unfortunately, Octavius Industries doesn’t have the proper equipment to check on his cardiovascular system, so that task is being saved for when Miles is back on his feet. 

“Peter, are you up? I know that online school means you can stay in later, but you still need to be up, Champ!” Uncle Ben’s voice rings out.

“I’m up! I’m up! I’ll be down in a minute!” Peter yells back as he flips out of bed. Walking on the ceiling as he pulls his clothes to him with his webs, the boy wonders to himself about how this ‘training’ is meant to help him. Ganke told him that he should practice until his suit is ready, but walking on the ceiling and using his webs? He guesses getting used to the sensation is probably for the best. 

Pulling his phone towards him, he flicks through his notifications, absentmindedly flipping and turning as he crawls across the ceiling into the bathroom. Brushing his teeth as he responds to some messages from his friends and rereading the school's notice about online school following the gymnasium and half of the school being destroyed. Finishing his three-minute count, Peter is about to spit out the toothpaste before his phone pings, a single notification ringing out. 

His eyes widen for a second before a grin spreads on his face. Flipping onto the floor, Peter spits out the toothpaste, quickly washing the toothbrush before pulling the backpack off his door and leaping down the stairs. 

“Whoa! What’s going on, Peter? Why are you in a rush? You can’t be late for online school.”

“Actually, I totally forgot I was meant to be studying with Lonnie and Eddie at the library. We were going to exchange notes, so I’ve got to run!”

“Oh, dear. Well, take some of the toast and bacon. You know what? Give me a second,” May says as she quickly walks into the kitchen, coming out with a fully prepared lunch bag, which she hands to Peter.

“May, how did you-”

“Oh, just an Aunt’s instincts, Peter. Now go on.”

Grabbing some of the toast and shoving some bacon between it and biting into the sandwich as he waves goodbye and leaps out of the door in a sprint. He runs to the Forest Hills station, pushing through the crowds of people, the calls of annoyance and distress following him as he bounds up the stairs and slips into the carriage of the train, the doors slamming shut behind him as he looks at the startled crowd. 

The train is running late, but that’s fine. It’s not like he needs to be on time. In fact, the only thing he needs to be on time for is school, and he still has… a little under an hour. But even then, he can use his phone to start online classes. It’ll be fine! Right?

“Stop thinking like that,” he mutters under his breath as the train continues to rattle along the tracks. Realising that he’s not going to have much to do, Peter reaches into his pocket, pulling out his newly acquired headphones, a ‘gift’ from Ganke, and pushes them in his ear, flicking through his phone as he lets the music blare into his ears.

We are now arriving at Penn Station. We are now arriving at Penn Station. The LIRR announcement rings out through the carriage, startling Peter as he jumps out of the doors quickly and spins around, running out of the beautiful architecture as he watches the bus leaving. He groans, turning around. He begins running down 8th Avenue, heading down the road and barreling towards Jane Street. 

“MOVE! I’M GOING TO BE LATE!”

As he rounds the corner, he sees the sign for 8th and Jane, pulling out his phone as he looks at the time. 8:45. Not great. Actually, that’s terrible. He has five minutes to make it to Octavius Industries and-

8:46.

With no time, Peter dashes forward, quickly making his way down the quiet street. His vision slows, eyes narrowing as he leaps up, shooting a web as he latches onto the building and zips himself quickly through the air to the building on the corner of Washington and Jane. 

He cracks against the fire exit railing. This is the one he remembered from outside Ganke’s office, knocking on the window as he sees the large Asian man, his long hair free from its usual bun constraint. 

“Peter?! Why are you- Don’t you have school?!”

“Talk in a minute, answering class,” Peter says, climbing through the window as he opens his phone. Flicking through the device and inputting the pin to the classroom as he sees the loading wheel.

“You know, you could have just come by after school.”

“It’s online after half the school was destroyed. Face cams are optional, provided you explain your reasoning. I already applied, and they agreed that it doesn't matter because my grades are good. I just need to be on the call to answer questions if they call on me.”

“Uh-huh…”

“The suit can handle that, right?”

“It can, but I’m not sure you should be-”

“Great! Now where is it?”

Groaning, Ganke shakes his head as he walks over to a suitcase, inputting a code on a keypad before calling Peter over. Kneeling in front of the case, Peter looks at the keypad and then at Ganke.

“Thumbs on the touchscreen.”

Following the command, Peter watches as the case clicks and hisses, opening up as he sets his eyes on the suit in front of him. His hands trace the similar, webbed pattern of the mask of the suit, the green-tinted lenses gleaming in the light. Pulling the suit out as he hears the class beginning in his headphones, Peter flips it around, taking in the appearance of the black and green suit. It’s simple, almost exactly the same as Miles’s suit, aside from the deep green and black spider that wraps itself around the chest of the suit, connecting to the V-like shape. Wrapped around the back is the same spider emblem as the original, still matching the deep green of the webbing and firm structure. 

“Looks good.”

“Of course it does. I made it,” Ganke says, scoffing as he sits in his chair, “Pass me your phone; if we’re doing this, I’ll need to give you the ability to patch into your classes and listen to me.”

After tossing him the phone, Peter begins changing into the suit, stretching his body as he feels it settle on top of him like a second skin. Twisting and flipping onto the ceiling, he checks his mobility as he looks at Ganke as he clicks away at his keyboard.

“So… What should I do?”

“Rooftop.”

“Okay ~” Peter says, zipping out the window onto the fire escape before twisting into a flip, shooting two more weblines at the edge of the roof as he pulls himself to the top. Walking around the edge of the building, balancing as he waits, a sudden static flare in his right ear makes him flinch. 

“Alright, your right ear should be school. Left is me. That working for you?” Ganke says. Peter hums to himself, listening to the biology class in his right ear.

“Yeah, I got it. So where do I start?”

Hearing the clicking of keys in his left ear, Peter looks towards the sky, Ganke beginning to speak, “It looks like there's some kind of attempted break-in on Thompson and Spring, Soho. You should be seeing the exact location appearing in your mask.”

Turning, Peter’s eyes narrow as he watches the AR overlay inside his mask flicker. He looks, seeing a small Spider Icon pop up. He smiles, watching as the icon spins and pulses, clearly indicating his path to the break-in.

“Got it!”

Slowly, he starts running towards the edge of the building, zipping across the gaps between buildings with his webs as he traverses the rooftops. His heart is racing as he perches on the rooftop above the break-in.

“The reports say it should be six guys, two armed with small firearms, the others seem empty-handed.”

“Well, the report's wrong,” Peter whispers back, “They seem to have crowbars and a baseball bat.”

“Shoot. Alright, since this is your first solo fight, I was hoping it was going to be easier. No worries. I might not be able to teach you how to swing through the city, but I can definitely coach you through a fight. Remember the basics?”

“Small movements; don’t use my full strength.”

“Good! Now, see the guy by the door? I want you to take him out first.”

“On it.”

Peter looks across the gap, gauging how he should attack. Crouching down, Peter pushes off of the water butt into a somersault, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in. Opening his eyes, Peter flicks his wrists towards the roof above the door. He presses his fingers into his palms as he shoots webs and zips across to the rooftop.

“Come on! We don’t know when the Spider will get here!”

“I’m tryin’, I’m tryin’! If ya think its tha’ easy do it yourself!”

Growling, the tallest of the men twitches as he looks around, “I ain’t like this. It’s too quiet.”

“Relax, Joe. No one's seen the Spider since Friday. For all we know, the man's dead.”

“‘sides, Hammerhead said he wants the codes from this building. You gonna tell the boss he ain’t got em cause you’re a wuss?” 

Listening to the conversation, Peter leans down, tapping the man by the door on the shoulder, watching as he looks up. The goon's eyes widen as Peter sprays a web to cover the man's mouth. He stiffens and falls against the concrete roof with a thud.

“What the…? Frank?” one of the goons says as he looks at his stunned friend and over to where Peter is dangling off the wall.

“Is that… the Spider?”

“New suit. New colour too.”

“Nah, this ‘as got to be some punk kid's prank. The kids clearly too small.

Peter huffs. Eyes narrowing as he looks at the goons, the casual remarks continue as they look at him.

“It’s Arachkid, and I’m going to be the one to lock you up today.”

“Oh, no! He’s so scawwy!” the tall man mocks. 

Peter's eye twitches in response to the jab as he flips off the perch and looks at the group. 

“Peter… Remember. Hold. Back. I told you about the quiping to relax yourself right?”

“I’ve got it,” he mumbles to the man in his ear, “So! You guys must be the dumb, dumber, and dumbest gang! It’s a pleasure to meet you. Spider-Man didn’t think you guys were worth the effort so he sent me in his place.”

“He what?!”

“You heard me. It’s like Dr Seuss would say: One fly, two flies, three flies, more! Stuck in a web as the fail to break in doors. ”

“Oh, wow. That was not where I thought you’d take that but nice job!”

Yelling, one of the goons charges forward after Ganke’s praise greets Peter’s eager ears. Spinning as he avoids the errad swing of a crowbar, weaving around into the crowd as he’s surrounded. Cracking his neck, Peter crouches down, gesturing for the men to try and hit him. 

He sees one of the men with a gun aim, firing towards Peter, the familiar tingle in the back of his neck dragging him out of the way of the incoming bullets. Firing a web to the man that was behind him, he yanks the goon to the floor as the bullets sail past both of them. With a heave, he hears the tallest man shout as he brings his hands down towards the kid. Twisting, he feels himself get caught in the side by the hit, letting out a low hiss as he spins, tripping the man before firing a web to pin him down.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” he mentions as the man starts trying to get up, “unlike Spidey, my webs are toxic. One touch with your skin and you’ll be out for an hour. Consuming it can take eight to wear off, so be a good little fly and stay still.”

“Oh yea-!” the man begins to say, breaking free from the web before it grazes his cheek and he falls flat on his face.

“I warned him. Now, really guys? You still want to fight?”

“Shut up!” the other criminal with a gun says as he climbs onto the roof level above them, firing rounds into the roof which Peter manages to barely avoid.

“I guess shooting a spider in a barrall is a lot harder than fish, huh?”

“Dammit! He’s just as quick as the spider!”

“Now can we stop fighting? I don’t enjoy picking on the weak. Who am I kidding, I’m actually kind of enjoying this,” Peter asks, the rhetorical question hanging in the air as he runs around the goons, aiming a round house heel kick to one of the mens heads. 

Ducking under the kick, the goon is about to strike back with his bat, twirling it as he raises it above his head to strike down. Peter twists, using his ability to stick to surfaces to lower himself further, throwing the missed kick back down towards the criminals leg, the grunt that follows signalling his success. Spinning, he connects his foot to the still raised bat, pushing off the mans shoulders as he spins and lets the bat go flying into the mans face.

“Three strikes, and you’re out!”

“Dammit! He even quips like the spider!”

“I’d say he’s not as good.”

“HEY! It’s my first day and I’m still whooping your butts! Give it some time!”

Shooting a web towards the obnoxious criminal that bad mouthed his quipping ability, Peter watches as the line connects. He smirks beneath his mask as the criminal looks down, eyes widening beneath his balaclava.

“Wait, please! I don’t wanna be thrown off the roof aga-!” he begins saying before he’s pulled into the wall, his nose crunching against the brick with a sickening sound.

“Ooo… I… I didn’t mean to make that happen. Maybe you should take him to the hospital? Then you can turn yoursleves and your buddies in.”

Peter watches the two gunman share a look, guns raising again. He sighs, realizing that they’re going down with the ship.

“Kind of admirable, but we aren’t on a ship. Last call for not receiving a spider beatdown!”

“Peter, can you answer the question?”

Peter’s eyes widen, his attention flicking to the class as he looks across the board illuminated in his lens. Right. The biology class. He almost- No. He completely forgot about it.

“Peter?”

“Sorry, teach!” Peter yells, rolling and jumping out of the way of gunfire as he tries to recall the question. His mind working to remind of the taxidermy classifications, “Uh, is it Class, as in the Arachnida?”

“That’s correct, Peter. Are you okay? It sounds like you’re out of breath.”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Peter replies, shooting webs at the feet of the gunman and dragging them off their feet, their heads hitting the ground with a crack and groans, “Just saw a rat in my room, and I’ve been trying to chase it out!”

“Ah, I see. There does seem to be something going on with rats in people's houses. Now-” Mr Warren begins saying, Peter drowning out the noise as he refocuses on capturing the men. Securing them in a neat ball, Peter pulls out his pen and paper, leaving a note for the police. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, he feels the familiar tingle on the back of his neck as he narrows his eyes, seeing some kind of black and purple silhouette leaping between buildings away from the jewlerry stores at the corners of Thompson and Prince.

“Nice work, Peter! I’ve sent a noticed to-”

“Ganke, I think I see someone that's managed to rob the two stores on the corner of Thompson and Prince.”

“What? I- Oh, hang on. Yep, just got an alert, but Peter, maybe you should stop for today and-”

“I’m going after them.”

“Peter-” Ganke begins to protest, but the boy tunes him out, leaping and jumping across the rooftops as he bounds up Thompson Street. 

He clicks his tongue as he gets to the corner, seeing the figure start swinging away. Jumping onto one of the buildings, Peter runs along the wall, chasing the now distinctly feminine form of the woman ahead of him. 

Leaping from the buildings on either side of Thompson Street to build momentum, he grunts, using as much of his strength as possible to fly into the air and tackle the woman on the rooftop of one of the buildings.

“Hey! What the-?! Wait, Spider-Man?!”

“You’re way too fast to be a normal person,” Peter says between pants. His eyes silently track the slender frame of the woman he’s restraining, gulping as he sees the low cut of her black and purple suit.

“Oh? You’re not Spider-Man… Is something on your mind, little Spider?” the domino-masked woman asks, smirking as she looks up at her captor. Batting her long eyelashes in a seductive glance, she says, “You seem… distracted .”

“Just… just give me the jewellery.”

“Why? Don’t you know diamonds are a girl's best friend?”

“And stealing is wrong. Give them to me.”

“No way, Itsy Bitsy. They’ll look so much better on me. Don’t you think?” 

“I’m not Itsy Bitsy.”

“Ooo~ touchy subject. Then what should I call you, handsome?”

“Wha-!? I-!” Peter says, his face flushing as he feels the woman walk her fingers along his chest and collarbone, “You first.”

“Hmm… I guess that’s fair. Call me… Black Cat. The Prowler’s apprentice, well, my skills surpass his.”

“Alright, I’m Arachkid. Why did you choose Black Cat? It… doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”

“Hmm…” the Cat hums as she continues to smirk up at the boy, “Well, Arachkid. Two reasons. The first? I’m as agile as a cat.” 

Peter frowns, looking into her swirling emerald eyes, as she places a hand to his cheek, “And the second?”

“I bring misfortune to those around me.”

He blinks, tilting his head, before his leg is caught and he’s thrown off of the Cat. Waving her hand, Black Cat blows him a kiss before raising a piece of cloth in her hand and dropping it. Reaching for his face, Peter’s eyes widen as he notices the missing mask. Gritting his teeth, he rushes towards the edge of the building, shooting a web to grab the mask and pulling it back on. Turning, he prepares to chase Black Cat, but she’s gone. Not even a whisker left in the wind.

“Who is she?”

Chapter Text

Peter’s frustration has been rising. Since Monday, he’s been dealing with break-in attempts, the occasional drug bust, even a shoot out between the NYPD and some of ‘The Roses’. Apparently, they are a new faction, a new criminal organisation that has been taking over the shadows that Fisk used to cast. 

But that’s not what’s been frustrating Peter. No, it’s the fact that no one has found out anything about this Black Cat girl. It doesn’t help that the one person who might know something is dead. Prowler. Or at least the previous Prowler. AKA, Aaron Davis. From what Ganke told Peter, it was kind of the defining moment of Miles' career as Spider-Man.

“Peter, are you listening?” Mrs. Winterhalter asks over the online class call.

“Sorry, I was just talking to my Aunt. Could you please repeat the question?”

“This is why I said we should just take time out of the summer break instead of continuing teaching,” the teacher mumbles, clearly not realising that the video call amplified her muttering, “I was asking when you should use a colon or semi-colon.”

“Oh, right. Well, colons are used to separate a general statement from the following specifics, whilst semicolons are used to connect two complete sentences instead of and, or, but, yet or while.”

“Very good. Please refrain from talking to your guardians unless it’s urgent. That or please notify me.”

“Understood, Mrs. Winterhalter.”

“Alright, then let's get back to the lesson-”

Peter stops listening. His mind is already returning to the frustration behind the disappearance of Black Cat. It doesn’t help that the last three days have been the same thing on repeat. In fact, Peter is starting to think that Ganke is deliberately keeping him away from high-profile cases. Like the Defenders taking down Scorpion and his gang. Sure, Peter might have had some difficulty with taking them down, but he could have learnt! 

But he gets it. There are actually people who can act as a support network for him. People who’ll teach him the ropes. It’s just frustrating that he has to wait for Miles to be ready. Wouldn’t Daredevil be just as good of a teacher for him? Then again, that means Peter would have to be in Hell’s Kitchen. Or that he’d have two teachers. I mean, it would depend on which of the Daredevils decided to take him under their wing.

He’s getting sidetracked. Plus, the class is ending, which means… It’s Arachkid time. Waiting for the last ticking seconds of class to finish, Peter taps his foot impatiently, saying his farewell and clicking the receiver. Leaping to his feet, Peter opens the door to his room, pausing at the top of the stairs.

“-I just don’t know how we can keep paying, May.”

“It’s okay, Ben. I can pick up extra shifts,  and you can-”

“I know, I know. I’ll have to look for something else. PI work just isn’t paying like it used to.”

“It’s a sign of the time, dear, we can still-” May pauses her sentence, the soft creak of wood under Peter’s feet pausing their conversation. Silently cursing the floorboards, Peter continues walking down the stairs, trying to keep the same steady rhythm. 

“Hey! I’m done with school, so I was planning on going out to see if I can get any pictures of that new Arachkid. I’ll be back for dinner!”

“Alright, dear. Be back by seven.”

Peter nods, grabbing his keys from the table, his eyes wandering across the floral-patterned surface. The distinct outline of a red warning on a letter being discreetly covered by Ben as he coughs catches his eyes. Rent. Of course, it’s rent. That or any number of other bills. Electrical, Water, Gas. There are so many things that they need to pay for. 

“I will!”

“Don’t get into any trouble, Pete.”

Putting on a fake smile, he nods, turning towards the door. Twisting the door handle, he pushes through the door, ignoring the stinging in the back of his head at the thoughts of how to solve the money issue. 

Threatening or hurting people is wrong. It’s not responsible, and putting on a mask isn’t something that lets you be accountable for your actions. No. Peter can’t help right now. But there’s someone he can talk to that might be able to help him. 

Walking slowly towards the Forest Hill Stadium, eyes tracing the screaming and bustling construction site that used to be Midtown High. The scent of burning gasoline and freshly turned mud floods his nose as he scans the construction equipment. Bright yellow cranes. Well, they used to be. Now, it’s like a blinding array of yellow hues, a neon glow where the light strikes that fragments into numerous shades Peter can hardly explain. If someone else could see this array, it would be dizzying, or at least that’s what he believes. His mind is keeping up because of the ‘additional’ brains.

Looking around the road as he arrives at his destination, the boy leaps, quietly sneaking up to where he hid his bag, reaching inside and pulling out his suit. Well, one of them. After the first day of patrol, Ganke had made… actually, Peter doesn’t know how many versions of his suit. Whenever he’s done with patrol, Ganke tells him to go back to Octavius Industries and drop off his suit for repairs and cleaning. 

Sighing as he double checks his surroundings before climbing onto the ceiling of the building, Peter pulls on the costume, shoving his regular clothes into the backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. Flicking out his wrist, Peter pulls himself across the gap between the buildings, running across the rooftop and leaping onto the highrise as he sighs.

“Hey, Ganke. How are you doing? I wanna go see JJ about something. What’s the quickest way?”

“Yo! I’m good, I’m good. Had a little bit of a setback today. I’ll probably be working overtime. If you’re in suit… Catch a lift on the back of the rail, I guess? Although you’ll probably have a better bet inside of it.”

“And if I was able to swing…”

“It would be like ten minutes. Don’t worry. Miles is almost back at full power, so he’ll get you trained up in all those basics.”

“It’s about time.”

“Eh, you’ll learn as you get older. It becomes a lot harder to pace yourself so you don’t run out of stamina. Oh. Just got a request. I’ll pin it for you once you’re done talking to JJ.”

“Nice. I’m almost at the metro. I’ll let you know when we can start with that request.”

“Cool, cool.”

Peter clicks off the earpiece, grumbling. He realises he probably didn’t need to change, and he quickly switches back to his civilian clothes. He flips down into the alleyway, zipping up the backpack as he walks towards the metro entrance, inserting his fare. He pushes into the surprisingly on-time metro as he plunks down into an empty seat. 

It’s better than riding the metro as Arachkid, right? Honestly, this is one of the things that he needs Miles' input on. Just how much time should he spend in the suit? Who should he tell? Well, that one Ganke said depends on the risk. He mentioned that it would be better to tell May and Ben about it after Miles is better. It would help to have Spider-Man present to explain everything.

“Roughly twenty-three minutes… I guess I could get in some homework whilst I wait.”

Pulling out his phone, Peter clicks his finger across the broken screen of the device. Flicking his eyes across the screen, Peter hums to himself, working on his homework as the rattle of the train car beneath him lulls its way through the city.

He jumps out of the train and into the bustling station. The boy cuts his way through the crowd, looking for a quiet and empty alleyway. Clicking his tongue, Peter walks into one of the alleyways, nodding to the pair of men huddled around a fire as he leaps up, climbing up a fire escape to get to the roof. It’ll be quicker to get there from the rooftops.

Stretching into the suit, he hops on his feet before running for the edge of the building, leaping between the gaps of the roads. He spins as he runs along the edge of taller buildings and back onto the roof of the buildings that line 2nd Avenue. His momentum carries him forward, fists light underneath him as he heads towards the Daily Bugle. The faint chattering of the people and cars below, whistling past him, like the Fisk Construction sites. 

Landing on the top of the building, Peter quickly switches out of his clothes again, sighing at the repetition of the motion, but it’s definitely the quickest and most effective option. At least until he can swing through the city.

Pushing into the rooftop entrance to the Bugle, he looks at the elevator, shaking his head as he imagines the questions he’d get if someone realized he came from the rooftop. No, the stairs will do. Hopping down the stairs in bursts of twos, Peter stops outside the door to the Daily Bugle, standing up straight as he goes through the mental checklist in his head.

“Hi, Mr. Jameson. I was wondering if… No, that won’t work. What about… Hi, Mr. Jameson. Do you have any jobs I could apply for? Thats… not right either… why is this so-”

“Peter?” a man says, opening the door to the Bugle’s office. Robby Robertson looks at the boy, his eyebrow raised as he looks at the shocked face of the boy.

“Oh, hey, Robby… I was just… I was going through how to ask JJ about something.”

“I see… Well, I can tell you this. JJ has a soft spot for you, kid. Helps that you’re one of the better freelance photographers in the city, but I’m pretty sure the main reason he likes you is that he sees himself in you. Just be honest.”

“Right. Confidence then?”

“Confidence,” the tall man says, smiling as he shoots finger guns at Peter and walks towards the elevator, the door pinging open as he steps into the door.

Breathing out and puffing out his chest, he pushes open the door to the office. The usually bustling office is unnaturally quiet, the faint clicking of keyboards and hum of printers the only noise in the room. Gulping as he walks through the silence towards Jameson’s office, Peter fumbles with his hands, about to knock when the door swings open.

“Parker?! Ah, I see you’re feeling better. Can I help you?”

“Oh, uh… Could we talk in your office?” Peter asks, feeling the eyes of some of the editors turning to glance at him. 

“Of course. Come in.”

Following the older man back into his office, Peter sits opposite the man's desk. Placing his backpack on the ground under his chair, he mentally chides himself for not being able to look at the man. 

“So, how can I help you, Parker? Is it photos?”

“Um, maybe. I… My Aunt and Uncle are having some struggles with bills and…” Peter breathes in, looking into the man's eyes. Confidence , he reminds himself, “Mr. Jameson. I remember you telling me to ask for help when I need it, so this is me asking for help.”

“I see… Whilst it warms my heart to know you’re taking my advice seriously, I can’t just give out charity for nothing.”

“I understand that, Mr. Jameson. I’m asking if there's anything I can do to earn some more money.”

“Hmm… All right, Parker. You’re the smart type, correct? Can you make me an app for the Daily Bugle?”

“An app?”

“Yes, Parker. Robby has convinced me that it would be good to have. It can reach a wider audience, and I can even start a podcast with it. So, can you do it?”

“I…” Peter looks down, mind racing as he starts mapping it out in his mind, “Yes. I’ll need to know what you want in the app, though.”

“I’ll have my secretary send that and the amount you’ll be paid to you,” Triple-J responds, pulling out a cigarette nd puffing on it, “Same email as normal?”

“Yes. Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Jameson.”

“Well, you’ve earned it with all your hard work for me so far. You’re free to leave.”

Standing up and shaking the man's calloused hand as he reaches for his bag. Peter waves, skipping out of the office. A job. He has a job . Hopefully, this can help with the bills until Ben and May can get back on their feet.

Climbing onto the rooftop and back into his suit, Peter looks over the bright skyline of New York, desperately wanting to swing. Hopping to the edge of the building, the boy looks over the edge, eyes tracing an imaginary line as he raises his wrist. It can’t be that bad, righ-

“You’re done talking to JJ?” Ganke’s voice rings out, Peter tripping and sticking to the edge of the Bugles rooftop, “Great timing. That request I was telling you about? It’s some kind of nuisance by the sounds of things. A man calling himself ‘The Beetle’ is ‘attacking’ random stores across Koreatown. Something about wanting to make a name for himself? Guy sounds a bit like Gambit.”

“Okay… and if he’s a beetle, shouldn’t he be able to fly?”

“Yeah, this one might be a bit of a challenge, but I think you’ve got this.”

“Right… Why hasn’t anyone else done anything about him?”

“Because everyone is out doing their day jobs or off-world, and he’s not actually causing any problems. More like he's having a temper tantrum.”

“So, I’m babysitting?”

“Yeap. You in?”

Groaning, Peter sees the ping of the address near the EST as he leaps forward, “On it.”

Leaping through the city, he listens to the unusually calm civilians as they stop and marvel at the slick… Purple and Green. Of course, this guy has a Prowler colour scheme. That makes this even better.

“Hey, Ganke. Any chance this dude is related to Prowler?”

“No clue. Thought you’d want to ask him in person.”

Humming in appreciation, Peter leaps across the rooftops, landing above the building as he looks down at ‘The Beetle’. The name is appropriate. Definitely. Now, how should he do this? It’s jam-packed with people and the guy is just standing around in the middle, basking in the attention that he’s receiving. 

Honestly, he might not be a bad guy, but the whole ‘wanting to fight someone’ deal is kind of a problem. Accountability would be… Not damagin the shops or people. How can Peter do that? Make a web. Trap him. Encapsulate him in a cocoon he can’t escape out of. One that Peter can also clean up quickly. 

Tilting his head, Peter begins firing webs across the narrow street, weaving a web between the walls and street. A web-net. It… could use some work and probably isn’t viable every time, but it’s good if you can get the drop on a villain… probably. Firing the last webs, Peter hangs down, tapping the man on the shoulder as he talks to the Korean women surrounding him.

“Hey, there, big purple and green beetle-looking dude. I heard you’ve been looking for a fight? I hope you people eaters don’t mind arachnid-flavoured humans.”

“Huh?! Spider-... wait. You’re not Spider-... oh, shi-”

Latching a web over the man's mouth, Peter motions for the people to leave as he lands on the floor.

“Language! Besides. If you’re panicking about being plastered on the web, it’s a bit late with all the phone calls about you.”

“Look, kid-”

“It’s Arachkid.”

“Whatever! I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I’m not someone to be messed with.”

“I can tell,” Peter responds blankly, looking at the numerous undamaged shops, “The fact that no one is running and screaming makes me think otherwise, though.”

“I… Dammit…”

Watching as the man grits his teeth and reaches into his pockets, Peter’s eyes narrow. His ‘Spider-Sense’ isn’t going off but… what’s this feeling? Like… No. Don’t analyze it. You’re missing the chance. 

The 

single 

thread… 

Peter blinks. Looking around, he sees the web he weaved around the Beetle gone. His hand is heavy. A bundle of webs… The Beetle. But how did he…? Peter’s mind races as he hefts the man up, noticing the struggle stop as he’s raised to eye level with the boy.

“Peter? Peter, are you okay? Your heart rate spiked!” Ganke’s voice calls out across the line, snapping Peter out of his confusion.

“Yeah, yeah. I just… We’ll talk later. I’ve got The Beetle, but the guy didn’t really do anything wrong, so I don’t know what to do with him.”

“The stores?”

“More like a mascot. He just tried provoking New York's heroes by doing a bunch of different things, I’m pretty sure. Mainly asking people to report that there's a guy attacking Koreatown.”

“Okay, I’ll let you question him.”

Plopping the man down as he hears the static of the earpiece turning off again, Peter sits across from him, eyes looking over the complex armour. He nods, taking in the design.

“How’d cha do that?”

“Do what?”

“That whole… Acrobatic routine. It was like you could tell exactly where the weak points in my suit are.”

“I… don’t know. I’m kind of new to this whole thing.”

“Which is also probably why I haven’t heard about you. Great. Some no-name hero. No fame for me.”

“Why are you doing this? To live up to the Prowler’s name? Are you one of the people he trained?”

“No! God, is that what you’re thinking? I… I’m just sick of being passed up for things that should be mine.”

“And this is how you can get them?”

“It’s how I can get recognition.”

“Dude, you could have just looked for another job. You’re, what, an engineer? I’m sure there's loads of companies out there that would hire you.”

“It’s not about that! I just want to be respected! So, I was going to show-”

“The power of your tech… I can understand that… Anyways, I need to figure out what to do with you now,” Peter mutters, thinking as he comes up with an idea, “And I might have something for you.”

“Oh, yeah? Prison?”

“No. A job where you can change the world.” Clicking on the earpiece, Peter smiles beneath his mask, walking far enough away to be out of earshot of the webbed-up man, “Ganke. What do you think Doctor Octavius would say to hiring another engineer?”

“I think that Otto would appreciate someone else that can help him with the technical stuff, especially if they can bring their own gear we can produce and sell.” 

“Want me to bring the Beetle in for an interview?”

“Let me check. Just start bringing him this way anyway.”

Nodding, Peter turns around, grabbing the bundle that contains the Beetle as he smiles down at the man. Shaking him as he plans out the route to Octavius Industries.

“It’s your lucky day! I’ve found someone that might hire you to change the world like I said.”

“Then are you letting me go?”

“Not so fast. I’m going to carry you there so you can’t cause any problems for the nice people we’re going to see.”

“Great…”

Smirking under the mask, Peter hefts the man onto his back, looking across the rooftops. He leaps, the terrified shrieks of the man strapped to his back music to his ears as he travels across the rooftops, the blurring sunlight from the windows a pale glare. 

The familiar roads of Greenwich Village come into focus, and Peter begins slowing down, carefully making his way onto the rooftop of the building. Waiting for his mask to give him the green light, he carefully unwraps the Beetle, making sure that his wings and hands are still bound. A ping followed by a thumbs up in his mask lets him know he can take the man down. 

“Alright, Mr. Beetle. Looks like we’re all set to go. Come on.”

“Oh. But I don’t even have my-”

“Trust me. The doctor will prefer the suit you’re wearing.”

“I… Okay.”

Walking down the stairs into Octavius Industries, Peter knocks on the door, seeing Ganke yank it open. Peering around the corner, Doctor Octavius looks over the Beetle’s suit, nodding his head as he beckons the man inside.

“Thank you for bringing Mr…”

“It’s Jenkins, Doctor. Abner Jenkins, but my friends call me Abe.”

“Right, Mr. Jenkins and his unique talents to my attention, Arachkid. Ganke and myself can handle it from here.”

“Cool! Just, don’t touch the webs with your bare hands. There’s a neurotoxin on them. Alright, peace!”

Running up the stairs back to the rooftop, Peter changes into his civilian clothes. With all of this going on, Peter’s not going to be able to do anything. Well, he could, but that wouldn’t be very responsible, and if something bad happened, he would have no one to help keep him accountable. No. With Beetle dealt with and Ganke busy, Peter should go home.

Besides, he has a news app to make for Mr. Jameson.

Chapter Text

Perched on the edge of the Octavius Industries building, Peter sighs. He has been waiting for Miles to show up for the last thirty minutes, but the man apparently can’t stay on time. When Ganke called to tell him that Miles was ready for the field again and to meet Spider-Man on the roof of Octavius Industries two days after the Beetle incident, Peter was expecting the man to at least be on time.

“Wait. Is this how everyone else feels when I’m late?! Oh, this sucks !”

“What sucks?” the sound of Miles’ voice asks as he flips and lands on top of the building next to Peter.

“Ah… nothing.”

“Was it the fact I’m late?”

“...”

“Your silence is its own kind of answer, Peter. Actually, I should get used to calling you Arachkid in the field.”

“Right, and I should just call you Spider-Man.”

“Hey~! Looks like Gank’s has been able to teach you some of the stuff whilst I was out!”

“Well, it would have been boring otherwise.”

“I also heard about Black Cat. I can’t believe Uncle Aaron is still causing me problems… Don’t stress it too much.”

“Yeah… I just… Well, it’s whatever. I did manage to take down that Beetle dude.”

“Oh, yeah! Abe’s cool as well. What was the headline JJ gave you? Masked Arachnid Stops a Pest! Does a Better Job Than Spider-Man .”

“It was way too wordy. Robby tried to get him to shorten the title, but you know what JJ’s like.”

“Honestly, I’m more impressed you got JJ on your side. The man gave you credit for your action whilst belittling me.”

Humming, Peter remembers the article. The main sticking points are the ‘accountable’ and ‘responsible’ parts. Apparently, taking the webs and the villain away was better in JJ’s eyes, but he still didn’t like the Spider-Man affiliation, wanting this ‘new arachnid’ to be held accountable by the police force or something. 

“So, what are we starting with?”

“Swinging. Now that I can catch you, there's someone that can be held accountable for any mistakes that might happen.”

“...wait, that was why I wasn’t allowed to learn how to swing?”

“I mean, what where you expecting?”

“I don’t know… something about the dangers of swinging?”

“Well… It’s not that dangerous. You just have to watch out for drones.” Standing up, the man stretches, turning as he balances on the edge of roof, “Right, so, the simple breakdown is aim with your hips, not your wrists, that’s the first mistake I made, then, you just relax your body and swing yourself like you’re on a swingset. C’mon.”

Leaping backwards off the ledge, Spider-Man spins, his hips twisting as he angles himself towards the top of the building northeast of the Octavius Industries roof. He watches as the man shoots out a web, swinging his body as it jerks with the webbing. Swinging his entire body upwards, he lets go and lands on the rooftop of the building, waving down at Peter.

Gulping, Peter leans over the edge, looking up at the building as he breathes out. Angling his hips towards the building, he steps off the building, raising his wrist as he squeezes his palm, the thread of his web spiralling off towards the rooftop. His eyes widen as he waits for the thread to snap into place, trying to relax, the ping of the web going taunt ringing out through the air.

Trying to relax, he swings his body, using the momentum to launch himself into the air, arms flailing to his sides. Peter’s body spins, and his face looks straight down at the street below. His body catches, his upward momentum pausing as he begins to fall again. Desperately looking around, he angles his hips towards another building, firing a web towards the building as he swings up and latches onto the side of the building. Panting heavily, he turns, watching as Miles steps off the top of his building and swings over, landing on the side of the building next to him.

“Right, I think I forgot the whole ‘angle your body to where you want to go when swinging’ thing. You basically need to make adjustments and figure out where you’re going to be swinging next. But hey! Nice recovery. I think you’ll be a natural at this!”

“R-right. That makes sense. I kind of did that when I tried to land here.”

Nodding, Spider-Man leans off the wall, looking at the boy next to him. 

“Alright, let’s keep going. I didn’t realise how stressful it is to watch and train people on swinging.”

“How did you learn?”

“My uncle. Before I was bitten and before I knew who he was, he showed me how to swing with a grappling hook. It’s because I was reading some comic books. You know? The ones with Batman?”

“Right, so he just showed you then-”

“ Oh, hang on! What’s up, Ganke?”

“Hey, guys, so I just got a ping about some riddle in Central Park. Figured you guys might want to check it out?”

“Alright, we’ll swing there now, c’mon Arachkid.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Spider-Man.”

“Oh, right. When you want to move forward, pull and release the web mid-swing, got it?”

“I’ll try.”

Leaping off the building, the pair begin swinging through the city, Miles occasionally giving pointers. It doesn’t take too long before they’re swinging through the city like it’s natural. Increasing the speed, the city blurs into a kaleidoscope of noise and colour as they flip and turn, the movements becoming fluid as they arrive at Coloumbus Circle, landing on the side of the statue.

“Alright, we’re just outside Central Park. Where do we need to head to?”

“Reports are saying it’s at Belvedere Castle. The thing is, I’ve got some of the images of this riddle but… I think it’s dangerous if people get involved with this.”

“It always is. Wanna give me- I mean, us an explanation on it?”

“It’ll be better if you check it out yourselves.”

Hearing the man above him groan, Peter tilts his head, looking up at Spider-Man. Following the man as they swing through and over the canopy of trees that envelope Central Park. Twirling as he hums to himself, the boy blindly lands on the roof of the castle, eyes vaguely flicking around the building as he kicks a rock.

“Witnesses have reported that there are some weird patterns on the floor and objects. I don’t know what it means, though.”

“Well, let's start by having a swing around and seeing where the patterns are. Got that, Arachkid?”

“Yeap! I’ll go West!”

Thwipping out a web as he launches himself to the top of the castle steeple, he looks across the courtyard. The lenses in his mask scrunch together as he tilts his head, ignoring the civilians who are pointing and gawking at him. These lines make no sense. It’s like a swirling pattern of… nothing. 

Although some of the patterns seem to be making sense… Like that swirl and those straight lines. They almost seem like a… tail? Or at least the end of a rat's tail… Mouse’s tail? They’re very similar.  

“Hey, so, I don’t know about you, Spider-Man, but I think that this might be some kind of Rebus Puzzle. On my side, I’ve got what looks like a… vermin’s tail. Either a rat or mouse. I’m not sure.”

“Whoa! Nice job spotting that! If you’re seeing something on the west side, we should start looking from the air there… Hey, G, did you add the web-wings to Arachkid’s suit?”

“You know it!”

“Cool, cool. Yo, Arachkid, I’m going to launch you into the sky; you just need to pull your wings out of your suit; they’re around your calves,” Spider-Man says, swinging over and perching next to him. The man’s hands fumble with the suit before him, pulling on the straps that hold the web-wings and looking them over.

Looking at the straps, he frowns, realising the random line that was running down the side of his suit served a practical function. It would also explain why the sides have a little elastic tension. 

“Um, how do I steer?”

“Oh, it’s kind of simple. I’m guessing you’ve never used a wingsuit. It’s just tilting you’re body in the direction you want to move, but don’t over-tilt. It’s about a ten-to-fifteen degree angle; anything more and you’ll start nose-diving.”

“That’s… okay. I got it. Slight tilt left or right to move.”

“Great! It’s better to learn how to do this without having to fight someone. I learnt that the hardway. Alright! Slip your hands in these loops.”

Slipping his hands in the loops presented to him on either side of him, Peter gulps, looking up at the sky. How he’s about to be thrown up there, he has no clue. Hopefully he isn’t going to be swung-

“Alright! See you in ten!”

“Wait, wha-”

Feeling something attaching to his back, Peter spins, looking at the webs on his back before looking at Spider-Man, the lenses of his mask wide. Trying to protest, Peter tries to take a step forward. A fatal mistake he’ll remember forever. He begins spinning around the man as he twirls in place, the webs connecting the pair, before launching Peter into the air.

His scream pierces the wind, and he wonders if this fear is the same the criminals feel when they get thrown into the air. Twisting as he grits his teeth, remembering the wing suit, he unfurls his arms, feeling the wind catch beneath the fabric as he slows down. Swirling in the air, he tries to right himself above the castle. The lull in the wind, a soft gliding sensation, and Peter opens his eyes. 

Belvedere Castle is small beneath him, as he stares at the small figures below him. The reflective paint that lines the building glares at him as he frowns, trying to figure out what direction the creation is pointing in.

“You see anything, Arachkid?” the voice of Ganke asks, cracking against the communication device in his ear.

“Nothing. It’s… the wrong angle. I’m going to try a different angle to see if that will reveal anything.”

Tilting to his right, Peter circles the castle, mentally tracing the lines of the reflective tape, ignoring Spider-Man’s movements. Nothing… nothing… nothing… C’mon! There’s got to be something more than the tip of the tail to this thing!

“Hey, I think I got the angle, but not the right perspective,” Spider-Man calls out across the comm.

Looking at Spider-Man, Peter watches him point in the direction about thirty degrees south from the western steeple. A tree about twenty-five feet away… that looks like it might be the right distance for the image. 

Pulling out of the web-wings as he spins, Peter lands on the tree, carefully aiming his lenses back towards the castle. The leaves of the tree tickle against the edges of his suit, the image of a rat, a highly detailed rat, forming in front of him as he looks at the paint. 

“How do I take a picture of what I’m seeing?”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. Just hold still for a couple of seconds and we can use the footage… well, not that we need it. It looks like the rat’s pointing south, right? Maybe our mysterious friend is heading south.”

“But why leave a trail?”

“Eh, the supervillain types like the attention. I mean, think about Abe,” Spider-Man chips in, swinging over towards Peter, pointing south.

“Right…”

“I think the sewers is another safe bet, considering it was a rat. So, maybe they’re heading to the New York water supply.”

“The real question is why.”

“We can figure that out after we find them.”

Swinging down through the park, the spider-duo continue on their careening path. The scent of wood mixes with the gasoline exhaust from the cars. Peter thinks to himself, wondering if this is normal. Swinging back and forth to find villains. Not to mention how tiring the sensation is. It’s no wonder Spider-Man is in such good shape, with how much energy it seems to take to swing around. If anything, Peter’s worried that his increased appetite is going to cause problems for May and Ben… Oh, that’s not a good thought. 

Landing on the side of a construction site, Peter watches as Miles pops open a sewage grate in an alleyway, beckoning him to follow. Grimacing as he zips across the road into the alley, he obeys, looking into the darkness below him.

“Remember to pull the lid back over yourself.”

“Right…”

Watching as the man hops down the grate, a soft thud sounding back up the tunnel, the young boy looks around, gently sticking himself to the brickwork. Webbing the manhold cover towards him, he gently pulls it over his head, placing it back as he lets go, relaxing and falling into the sewer.

Gagging as he lands, the scent of the sewage water filling his nostrils, Peter spins, looking for any sign of Spider-Man, finding him standing a couple of feet away. The man tilts his head, silently questioning Peter.

“The smell.”

“Ganke… did you forget to put the respirator in Peter’s suit?”

“...I knew I forgot something.”

“Right… you think you can handle the smell? If not, you can always go back…”

Peter shakes his head in response, determination setting into his mind as he stands up tall, pretending not to notice the scent. Breathing out, Peter internally asks how long this is going to take as he walks past Spider-Man, leading the way as they continue to head south through the sewers.

“Alright, if you’re sure. Now, we’re going to be on the ceiling since it’s better for stealth… You can’t turn invisible, can you?”

“No…”

“Then I won’t either. The idea is to be quiet and use the tips of your fingers. Because of the way the spider mutation works, we can use minimal points of contact to crawl around.”

“Huh… Okay, so that’s why only the toes of the suit don’t have a sole to them…”

“Exactly! You’ve already been unconsciously using it with your toes, so now, you do the same, but with your fingers.”

Leaping onto the ceiling, the pair continue to crawl through the dim, dark and dull tunnels. The constant thrum of running water and droplets hitting the concrete or water rings in echoes. If it wasn’t for the scent, Peter would almost consider this to be one of the most interesting places he’s been in.

“Nice job. We’re heading towards the direction of One Plaza Roxxon. Something tells me that our little mystery guest might be targeting Roxxon.”

“Which would explain why they left clues… they wanted you to help them with whatever their plan is.”

“Exactly. I’m guessing that Roxxon is up to something, and this person might be some kind of aspiring hero… you never know.”

A flicker of a light draws Peter’s eyes away as they continue overhead of the rushing water. Tunnels spread out in a maze. A labyrinth… Something about this doesn’t feel right now that Peter is thinking about it. Rats…

Why rats? The creatures are littering the edges of the sewer, their insistent squeaking as they dart back and forth a shallow cacophanony of noise. He crawls forward, eyes narrowing more and more, the hairs on his body feeling like they’re growing more and more taunt.

“I don’t like this…” Peter mumbles under his breath, eyes darting around, “It feels like prime time some kind of omen of bad luck will rear its head… that’s just how Parker luck is…”

“What? Expecting your mysterious Black Cat girl to show up?” Miles asks, the smirk beneath his mask evident despite the words.

“No! It’s not like that either!”

“Uh-huh. From what I heard from Ganke, your heart rate was elevated, and you pinned her do-”

“IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!” Peter half shouts, trying to keep his voice down as he glares at the hero, “I just… she seemed to have… forget it.”

“Sorry, sorry. I was just teasing, but I get it. The first person that manages to escape you is always the one that you can’t get off your mind. At least not until you’ve caught them. It was that way with me and the Tinkerer after all.”

Peter stops, thinking about what Miles said. It makes a bit too much sense. Not to mention that it definitely didn’t help that she was- No! Peter already told himself that he wouldn’t think about that. Not again.

Continuing to crawl along the now pipe-lined ceiling of the tunnels, Peter and Miles find themselves staring at light. A lot of light. Artificial bulbs of luminous essence glimmer in the previously dark tunnel as they continue moving.

The sounds of construction, the ringing cries of a foreman and the stinging drilling of a jackhammer. Grunts and groans of lifting and moving equipment along with that distinct, metallic screech of metal against metal. Something is happening down here.

“Stay quiet and follow me.”

Nodding as he watches Spider-Man zip a couple of feet ahead of him on the ceiling, Peter continues to push forward, slowly focusing on staying as quiet as possible. Seeing Miles raise his fist, or is it lower it in this situation? Semantics. Peter pauses, eyes glancing past the man as two, three… twelve, purple and red high-vis jacketed men talk. Their equipment hums, sparks flying from some kind of soldering equipment as they work away. Printed in large, metallic-hued letters on the back of their jackets is one word. Roxxon. 

“Looks like we found the target. The question is, wheres our mysterious guest?” Spider-Man mutters, looking around the tunnel for any sign of rats.

Peter frowns to himself, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as he leaps back. Seeing Spider-Man turn to look at him, Peter ignores the eyes, staring down one of the tunnels. 

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

The heavy metal sound of boots hitting concrete rings through the air. His heroic mentor frowns, turning to face the noise himself. Trudging forward, the sound of the person moving swaying as a faint purple glow appears in the tunnel. An amulet swung around his neck. A face contorted into a fierce smirk. A suit of armour, reminiscent of Iron Man, wrapped around him.

A Greek man of already towering proportions stares into the tunnel, chuckling as he spots the spiders on the ceiling. The former CEO of Roxxon, Dario Agger, continues walking forward, ignoring the pair. Peter watches as Miles tenses, his fists curling into balls as he stares daggers into the man.

“It’s good to see you again, Spider-Man… I see you have your sidekick with you again. This time with a proper suit.”

“Well, I figured it was about time, Mario- I mean Dario. Wouldn’t want to offend you by calling you a plumber. Although this current situation… kind of makes it seem like you are.”

The man chuckles as Peter tries to process the situation. His mind twirls, trying to figure out where this man could have seen them together before. Eyes meeting the bullish amulet slung around the mans neck, his eyes widen, the lenses of his mouth clicking and shuddering as he realises.

“Minotaur?”

“Oh, he’s quick… How wonderful.”

“Let’s drop the pleasantries, Dario. What are you and Roxxon up to down here?”

“Investing in power, as per normal. After the last… debacle in Queens, we decided it would be wise to move the next facility a little closer to home.”

“So Greece?”

“Hmph. No, little Spider. But you will wish it was. Now, let’s talk business. The new CEO doesn’t like interruptions.”

“And we don’t like potentially hazardous experiments under residential areas.”

“Which brings me to the proposal of my boss. You two leave this place alone, and we won’t kill you or any of the citizens of New York. You just have to let us enslave them all to my queen's reign.”

“That doesn’t sound like it’s part of the hero code, Spider-Man,” Peter mentions, his eyes flicking between the tunnel Dario had walked out of and the man himself.

“A shame. I was hoping we could settle this peacefully. I guess violence is our only solution. Luckily, I’m not alone either,” the man says, spinning the amulet as he begins to grow, the armour conforming to his gradually growing form. The hum of electricity ignites from the tunnel Peter was watching, a tall black and red figure running down the hall as it leaps through the air. The Tarantula pounces out of the darkness, the Minotaur roaring as he charges toward Spider-Man. Peter narrows his eyes as he lets the Taratnula grab him, rolling into a tunnel with the man. 

Oh, it’s on. Time to go rock an old man to sleep.

Chapter Text

“ARACHKID!” Spider-Man shouts as Taratnula grabs Peter, the pair disappearing into a dark tunnel.

He tumbles as he moves with the larger spider-themed villain, his fists slamming against the enhanced skin and suit of the man. Twisting to his feet, Tarantula fiddles with a dial on his wrist, the already dim lights in the tunnel fully dissolving into nothing. The darkness swallows them, the sound of Spider-Man and Minotaurs battle ringing out in the background.

Those noises don’t matter to Peter right now. No, the cries and screams from the battle happening behind him don’t matter. The tingling sensation that he’s about to get attacked? That matters. Ducking as he’s kicked in the side, Peter sucks in a breath, staggering backwards as he looks around for a sign of the red and black-clad form of the Tarantula.

“What’s wrong, little Arana ?” Another punch, his arm numb from the pain from the strike, “Can’t sense me?”

“You ever consider that I’m letting you hit me to make this an even fight?”

“Then you’re a fool.”

“I get that a lot.”

Spinning as a kick knocks him off his feet, Peter manages to catch himself in a handstand. Twirling as he tries to kick the shadow of the figure that attacked him, he clicks his tongue when he connects with the air. Thinking as he considers his options, Peter looks around the room.

“So, where are you from, Mr. Tarantula?”

“Why do you care?” 

Somewhere to his left.

“Well, if we’re going to be running into each other more often, I figured we may as well try and get to know each other.”

“Where are you from then?”

Right. This guy is fast.

“Queens.”

A footstep behind him.

“...Delvadia.”

Moving closer.

“I hear it’s lovely there. The beaches in particular.”

Pausing. No movement.

“They are. You’re very good at this.”

“At what?”

“At trying to distract me. To pinpoint me using my voice. Unfortunately, I’ve already learnt how to prevent that.”

And now the voices are everywhere. Great.

“Oh, c’mon! Don’t think so lowly of me!” Peter leaps, subconsciously reacting to the swish of wind through the air, “Besides, I don’t really know anything about you. I think Spider-Man mentioned a daughter?”

Gritted teeth.

“Leave my Anya out of this, Arana .”

“Don’t you find that a little confusing, you know, Anya, Arana.” 

A punch swings just wide as Peter pulls back, reaching to land a punch himself but missing. This is working. Maybe it’s better for Peter to not focus? Is that what’s working? Almost like when he beat the Beetle…

“Alright, alright. I guess you really don’t want her to know about this, huh? Is that because she’s a fan of- WHOA!” Peter twists, spinning away from something as it crashes past him, an explosion ringing off in the background of the tunnel. “Hey! No explosives! We don’t want to bring this city down!”

“I’d steal the moon for my Anya. Don’t test my patience, brat!”

“Yikes. This guy might actually have a problem,” Peter mutters, ducking and weaving through the attacks the man is throwing at him.

“Stay. Still!”

“I think you’d take my face off if I did that. Speaking of,” Peter flips, landing against the ceiling as he talks into the darkness around him, “are you ex-special forces or something? Your martial arts prowess is insane!”

“You’re point?!” 

“You could do more good than harm if you wanted to!”

“Good doesn’t pay! Not that I’d expect a child to understand that!”

“Oh, I understand plenty,” Peter retorts, a kick hitting him in the chest as he grabs the leg, seeing the shocked look on the Tarantula’s face as he smirks at him from beneath his mask. “I’m a broke boy, got no girls, and I’m chronically late. I can’t hold a job for the life of me!”

Spinning in a circle, Peter tries to replicate the movement of Spider-Man as he hefts the man, twirling him into their as he collides with the wall of the tunnel. The soft crunch and bounce of the man's body impacting against the solid concrete and brickwork makes the young man wince as he sees the Tarantula stagger ot his feet, the lights in the tunnel slowly flickering back on.

“You’ve not even learnt the basics, have you?” the man mutters, eyes glinting beneath his mask as his face cracks into a smile, “If this was Spider-Man, I would have been webbed in place, waiting for the police to come pick me up!”

“Wait, seriously?! I really have a lot to learn from him, then. Luckily for me, I’m not Spider-Man,” crouching down as he prepares to re-engage in the fight, “I’m the Expceptional Arachkid!”

Leaping forward, the pair begin their violent dance. Punches and kicks rain towards the younger of the pair as he twists and contorts, trying not to think about the motions but feel them. 

“What’s wrong?! You can’t land a hit without the help of the dar- Urgh!”

A fist connects with Peter's chest, spitting out a small amount of blue viscous liquid into his mask as he hits the ceiling. Desperately clinging to the surface, he coughs, looking down at the cackling man.

“You see. I have powers too, spider brat. They may not be as powerful as yours, but they’re good, no?”

“I’ll admit, that hurt a lot more than I was expecting.”

Looking down, Peter assesses the damage, the stonework around him crumbling to the floor below him. It’s not that bad, is it? C’mon, Pete, think. What would Spider-Man do? Yeah. Let’s try that. 

“Hey, you hungry?”

“What?”

Peter fires a webline behind the man, the man's eyes widening in realization as he moves away before a second line connects to his back. Pulling on the line, Peter zips towards the man, his fist flying forward as he strikes the man, spinning as he rolls off the floor.

“Here, have a knuckle sandwich!”

Popping up, he spins around, kicking the man back against the first webline, knocking the man on his back. Shooting a web, Peter clicks his tongue as Tarantula raises his hands, small jets of fire leaping onto the webbing as it burns away.

“I’m not that easy, kid!”

“Eh, I’d be disappointed if you were. C’mon, Arachkid. Think.”

“Heh, what? Motivational talking to yourself?!”

Rolling his eyes beneath the mask, Peter looks around the tunnel. Maybe that could work as a plan? Limited space. The only fault is those little fire things but… Well, Peter’s sure he can figure out a way to stop them from being a problem.

“So, whats with the flamethrower thingies? Doens’t really fit the whole tarantula or spider theme.”

“Tarantulas hunt other spiders. If I’m to hunt Spider-Man, I figured I’d need to have something to burn down his web of lies.”

“Oh! That… huh, I guess that does make some more sense… Why not some kind of mandibles?”

“Tried that. Spider-Man made it so I couldn’t cut through them with webs, but no matter how many times I’ve used it, fire has always been the solution.” 

The pair exchange another barrage, fists and feet spinning and twisting in a free-for-all that locks them both in place. Peter fires a web, Tarantula weaving out of the way. Another web, and then another, until Taratnula is on the backfoot, his feet slipping and twisting through the slick sewer floor before he eventually collapses on his back.

“The fuck! Do you not need to reload your webs?!”

“All naturale, Tarantula.” 

“So you don’t have to reload and I have to figure out your limits… tch!”

Grinning, Peter looks at the man, trying his best not to give his plan away. Just a little more and he should have it, but first, remove those gauntlets.

“What about you? You have to reload those little gauntlets of yours? Who am I kidding? You can’t be as exceptional as me!”

“Exceptionally annoying!”

“Hey, now you’re getting into the mood with it! Wanna take this fight to the web?”

“How would we even do that?!”

“Oh, easy! Say cheese!”

“Wha-?!”

Before the villain can respond, Peter drop-kicks the man, sending him sailing into the wall of webs that he’d been making behind him. The man twists; the small jets of fire that he tries to use to escape are yanked from his arms. Replacing them, additional webs tie themselves to his wrist before he’s kicked again, this time through the webs as they collapse around him, enveloping the man in a cocoon of webs.

“Shi-”

“I wouldn’t move if I was you. My webs carry a neurotoxin, if it touches your skin, you’ll be paralysed for at least an hour.”

Watching the man grit his teeth as he lays still, letting Peter heft him onto his back, Peter smiles to himself as he makes the journey back through the sewer tunnel. Ignoring the flickering of the lights and the sloshing of the water, Peter looks around the exit of the tunnel.

“Now… where is-”

The sound of crashing bricks and screeching cars in the distance. Groaning as he hears the noise, Tarantula huffs and shakes his head against Peter’s back, informing him of the direction that Spider-Man has taken Minotaur in. Honestly, why couldn’t he have kept this to the labyrinth of underground sewage tunnels? It would be easier to catch him as well, right?

“Hold on, I’m going to go full speed to catch up,” he says, ignoring the fact that the man on his back can’t actually do anything.

Charging towards the source of the noise, Peter leaps and bounds over the webbed-up bodies of Roxxon shock troopers. A large beam of sunlight ahead of him mixed with a pile of rocks blocking the sewage path. Using the rocks as a platform to jump up to the street level, Peter looks around for an NYPD cruiser, spotting one as he swings over, landing next to the vehicle and knocking on the window.

“Spider-Kid?” the man in the cruiser says, rolling down the window. Peter’s eyes widen as he recognises the man, clearing his throat as he sets Tarantula down.

“It’s Arachkid, Captain Stacy. I’ve captured the Tarantula, one of the villains responsible for the damage at Midtown and the sewers.”

Watching the police captain look over the webbed man as he steps out of the police cruiser, Peter waits for the response. Gwen has mentioned that he’s not the biggest fan of Spider-Man. Heck, not many of the cops are fans of Spider-Man from what he knows. Peter just hopes it can be different with him.

“And what's the situation in the sewer like?”

“Uh, well, aside from the whole hole thing? Not too bad. No loose webs or anything. Oh, and don’t touch those webs without gloves… they’ve got neurotoxin on them.”

“Great, you two have toxic webbing now.”

“No… just me. We think it’s a different version of Spider-Man’s bio-electricity. It kind of just coats my webs when I shoot them… Oh, my webs are organic too.”

Pausing, the police officer frowns, a sympathetic look appearing on his face as he shakes his head.

“So, you can’t even control it… I guess that makes you a mutant instead of… whatever Spider-Man is. If you also look like a Spider-”

“It’s a very complicated situation, and as far as I’m aware I…” Man, Peter is going to feel bad about saying this, but it’ll get him some bonus points from some people and that kind of matters right now. “I am a mutant… Although my powers only recently developed.”

“Alright. Well, I think mutants are great, so keep up the good work!” 

Nodding, Peter quickly walks away from the man towards the hole in the middle of the road, and he begins to pull the debris out of the sewage. He works quickly, trying to shake off the excess moisture into the tunnel below before stacking them on the street. 

 “Peter, what are you doing?”

“Being responsible and accountable for the damage caused.”

“Well, maybe hurry up? Miles needs help.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Quickly weaving an arched cradle for the pieces of rubble to connect to, he begins the process of organizing and replacing the broken rubble, filling in the gaps with his webs. The road slowly comes back to life, now stuck together with a mixture of web, brick, concrete and tarmac in a temporary placeholder.

“Alright, people! This is only a temporary solution, it’ll last for four hours! Someone call the city board and get them to get some quick-acting concrete to fill in the gaps! Peace!” Peter yells to the crowd, zipping himself into the air as he looks for signs of where the fight between Spider-Man and the Minotaur could be.

His question is quickly answered by the swarming mass of destruction that seems to run through the street. Looking at it from his new perspective, Peter is starting to understand the frustration that Mr. Jameson has with Spider-Man. I mean, sure, it’s not completely warranted, but the damage and inconvenience caused by the damage…

“Be better…” he murmurs to himself as he swings through the city, following the trail of destruction.

It doesn’t take too long for the screams of civilians and flying rubble crashing against the floor to alert him. Firing webs as he catches some of the rubble heading towards the glass of the buildings surrounding him. He lands on the side of the library and looks down at the fight between the two superpowered individuals, dancing as they swap punches. 

He watches Spider-Man getting grabbed out of the air and slammed against the floor. The man is quickly pummeled by the hammer and fists of the Mintaur as he is thrown around like a rag doll. Peter thinks about how the scene reminds him of the videos of Hulk thrashing some of the Avengers villains across the floor. Like Loki when he tried to take over New York, back when Peter was… what? Six?

 Realising that he probably shouldn’t just perch here watching the battle, Peter zips across the street, slamming his fist into the side of the Minotaur's armoured shell as it roars and staggers back. Helping Spider-Man to his feet, Peter prepares himself to fight the mechanical bull.

“You good? Managed to take care of the Tarantula alright?”

“Yeah, it took me a bit. Had to find someone to leave him with, but I handled it.”

“So much for the Tarantula being the world's best hunter,” the Minotaur rumbles, shaking as he cracks his knuckles, “But I can deal with two puny insects myself.”

“Really? That’s what he called himself?”

“Also, we aren’t insects. We’re arachnids given human form!”

“What’s the difference?! You’ll still be crushed and burnt under my foot!” the giant bull-man says, slamming his foot against the concrete to make a point.

“Look, I get you’re trying to be scary and all, but you’re kinda…”

“Lackluster?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Would you two stop talking and fight me?!”

“Why?”

“We could resolve this peacefully, you know, web hammocks, therapy techniques, the whole shabang!”

“Oh, oh, oh! I could even put on some soothing jazz. Maybe some blues? I know a guy that could hook us up with that!”

“ARGH! Enough talking!” the Minotaur yells, a gout of flames erupting from the mechanical head, Peter and Miles swinging out of the way of the flames. Quickly circling the man, the pair trade turns, punching and kicking, leaping over each other as they begin a barrage of attacks that leaves the bull-man stunned and staggering as he swings wildly with his hammer. Slamming it against the corner of a building and smacking a car aside. The vehicle spins, smacking against Spider-Man as Arachkid vaults over the vehicle, running up and sliding under a hammer swing. Popping up behind the man, spinning as his hammer comes crashing down. Peter flips over the strike, firing two lines of web at the back of the bull-man, pulling himself down to slam against his back. 

Flipping into the sky, Peter clicks his tongue as he lands and steps back, webbing the spots the hammer is about to hit to prevent any additional damage to the buildings. Twisting and launching himself into the air, he looks around. Firing web lines around the street to prevent rubble from crashing into buildings or the park. 

“Whatcha doin’, Arachkid?!”

“Trying to prevent more damage to the city! Keep fighting. I’ll keep protecting the civilians and launch surprise attacks!”

“They’re not surprise attacks if I know you’re going to do them!” The Minotaur bellows, throwing a car into the sky towards the young boy. Landing on the car, Peter spins with the vehicle, trying to calculate the best way to place the vehicle on the ground without damaging it.

Swinging as he grunts with the effort, Peter rolls the wheels of the car against the tarmac. Turning back to the fight, he grits his teeth, spinning a web above the street as he bounces between his webs, catching any loose rubble and objects the Minotaur throws about in his attempts to beat Spider-Man into the ground. The arachnid-themed hero dodges, leaping and twisting as he kicks and punches, avoiding the attacks of the larger man. 

Breathing in and holding his breath, Arachkid runs along a web, eyes narrowing as he spots an opening, zipping forward and smashing his feet into the hand holding the hammer.

“You ain’t MC Hammer! Or Thor, for that matter!” 

He flips and returns to his webs above the street, he avoids the sweeping strike of the Minotaur. Trying to gain his balance, the boy spins his arm as he hears the annoyed grunts of the bull. Seeing the black and red blur of Spider-Man slamming a fist into the Minotaur, Peter grins, expecting the fight to begin slowing down.

But his expectations are sent under, the Minotaur standing tall, despite the hit, and grabbing Spider-Man, slamming his fist into the man and sending him flying through the air. Holding out his hand, the hammer in the street rattles and flies back into the man's hand as he charges. Slamming the hammer down towards the sputtering hero, a small pool of blood leaking out from the man's costume, Peter barely manages to stop the attack, webs wrapping around the hammer as he’s yanked in a vicious tug of war with the bull-man.

Grinning, the bull releases the weapon, its mouth whirring as flames lick at the metallic interior of the mouth. A torrent of flames erupts from the mouth, Peter helplessly falling back as he tries to figure out a way to avoid the attack before he’s yanked to the side by webs. Looking over to the coughing Spider-Man, the webs fall away from the man's hands as he nods. Peter charges towards the Minotaur, uppercutting the creature.

“Hey, ugly! Aeëtes called! He wants his bull back!”

“Shut up, spider! I am the descendent of the proud king Aeëtes!”

“Oh, wait, really?! That’s so awesome! I thought you’d be related to King Minos since you’re a minotaur and everything!” Peter responds, flipping and turning away from the attacks of the larger man.

“Do you ever shut up?!”

“No! I’m no Jason, and I don’t have a Medea, but I’m still going to wrap you up and tame you!”

 Leaping forward, he twists and spins, avoiding the gouts of flames being shot from the bull's mouth. His feet hit the floor in a rhythmic dance as he kicks and spins, firing a barrage of web lines to connect the webs to the ones on the buildings and streetlights. Pushing the bull-man into the lines as he trips and stumbles, Peter sticks to the armour, trying to pry it off the man's body. 

“Switch!”

Miles slams his blood-soaked fist into the armour of the minotaur, pulling it apart with a creaking pop. Metal shards fly onto the floor, Peter works on pulling and twisting the webs around them, ensnaring the man in place, his body stiffening as the webs make contact with his skin. The sound of the police cruisers fills the air as Peter and Miles look at the captured man.

“Well, it’s been fun, Dario, but we’ve got places to be. See ya!” Miles says, shooting finger guns at Peter before leaping into the sky. Looking around at the webs covering the area, Peter hums to himself. Next time, Peter’s going to find a way to dissolve the webbing. To help with clean up.

Leaping into the sky after Spider-Man, Peter swings away, wondering what Mr. Jameson is going to write about them.

Chapter Text

He stretches, humming to himself as he listens to his lectures in his room. After yesterday’s incident with the two Roxxon Agents, Miles had suggested they take the rest of the night off. That didn’t stop Peter from going back to Belvedere Castle to try and figure out where they went wrong, though, and his discovery? Well, it kind of changed where they should be-

BZZZT. BZZZT. BZZZT. BZZZT. BZZZT.

The buzz of his going off catches Peter off guard as he looks down, grabs the device, eyes flicking to the contact ringing his phone. Harry. Peter hadn’t really thought about it but… It’s been almost a week since he last talked to Harry. 

“I’ve been so absorbed in- Wait, I should answer!” 

He pulls the green bar on the shattered screen of his phone, letting the phone pick up the call as he brings the phone to his ear.

“Pete! How’ve you been? I know how you were in the whole gym thing, and I was thinking, why don’t we go somewhere after school today? I’m thinking of pizza and maybe going to Coney Island. I’ll call the usual gang!  I’ll meet you at Conney! See ya!”

“Wai- and he hung up on me. Unbelievable,” Peter mutters, a smile creeping onto his face as he mentally checks a box as he sits down, drumming his pencil against the table as he hums to himself. Well, it’ll be a nice distraction for him. Taking breaks is important. The wise words of Mr. Jameson ring through his mind.“That’s a point. Where's the Bugle? Let’s see what he’s saying about the incident yesterday…”

Clicking through the tabs on his computer, the app that he managed to crank out in a day, beeping to life, Peter looks at the front page article. Mr. Jameson had specified he wanted it to feel like a miniature paper in your phone, so he’d designed the app to be simple to input articles. Simplicity is beauty. The paper turning sound effects. The Bugle-style columns and article style. Like a Kindle, but for a newspaper. Tilting his head as he reads, Peter's grin turns into a half smile. 

The menace Spider-Man has dragged a youth into his scheme! Whilst Spider-Man caused mass destruction of property and personal vehicles, his sidekick, my sources have told me he’s called Arachkid, went around helping repair the destruction of city property!

Whilst I do not condone the actions of this Spider Duo, I will admit that whilst Spider-Man continues to be the masked menace that he’s always been, Arachkid is holding himself accountable for the damage caused. As this is the one thing I’ve been asking Spider-Man to do over the last decade, I believe that when Arachkid succeeds the mantle of Spider-Man, New York will potentially be a better place!

This is assuming, of course, that no new villains that threaten the status quo appear in our glorious city with vendettas aimed at New York's newest hero. 

Well, it’s not bad news, at least. Definitely not great news, either, but the praise is definitely good. Sighing to himself as he leans back, he realises he’s forgotten to pay attention to his class, scrambling for his pen and paper as he starts writing down notes.

Oh, boy. This is going to be one heck of a catch-up session.

The rest of the day seems to fly by, Peter’s school work getting increasingly boring as he waits for the end of the school day. Having sent a message to Miles and Ganke about meeting up with friends, Peter has begun the normally lengthy process of choosing an outfit.

His first thought? Why is he putting in so much effort? It’s not like he has anyone to impress anymore. MJ is with Flash now… Oh, god. Is Flash going to be going with them to Coney Island? That’s going to be annoying.

Potentially, seeing MJ and Flash getting ‘lovey-dovey’ with each other aside, how many of the friend group will actually be… well, single? Harry, Peter, and Liz? Well, saying that, Liz and Harry have been getting closer recently… Oh, god, this is going to be awkward.

“Great. I’m going to be the third wheel of all third wheels. Way to go, Parker.”

Deciding to not bother with his hair, Peter ambles down the stairs, going to the front door as he locks it. Scribbling a note on the table to let May and Ben know where he is, Peter goes back upstairs, grabbing the new respirator-equipped suit from under his bed, pulling the suit over his body before opening the window to his room. Maybe swinging will give him some form of peace. He needs some relaxation with the way the world seems to be leaving him behind.  

Shoving a random shirt, jacket and pair of jeans into his backpack with his glasses and wallet, Peter crawls out the open window, slowly closing it behind him before leaping into the air, twirling as he jumps between the roofs of the neighbourhood. He twists in the air as he passes between the large park between Queens and Brooklyn, passing over the main roads as he vaults through the air. It’s not clean air, but it's definitely cleaner than in the glittering lights of Manhattan.

It’s strange. His mind has been feeling like it’s buzzing with too much information since waking up from the spider bite. But here? Right now? It’s calm. Still. Like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be. Peter silently hopes that this isn’t some kind of precursor or omen of who he’ll become. He doesn’t want to put Spider heroing before being Peter Parker, but the peace that he’s feeling swinging and doing this? It’s hard for him to argue that this isn’t what he’s meant to be.

Passing over the cemetery before travelling through Brownsville before entering Brooklyn proper. His feet run along the brickwork of the high-rise buildings as he dances and swings through the borough, humming to the music in his earpieces. 

Landing on the top of the Conney Island hospital, Peter hums to himself, thinking about how he didn’t encounter any criminals. Switching into the outfit, he pulled out of his closet, looking down, raising an eyebrow. It’s the same baggy, long-sleeved red shirt and pair of way-too-baggy jeans that he got from Miles. The difference? He’s wearing a white T-shirt with ‘The Mary Janes’ plastered across it. A token from when he went to their last concert.

He clicks his tongue as he pushes his suit deep into the backpack and slides down the side of the hospital, a webline used like a rappling line. His feet hit the floor, slowly walking through the busy street as he heads towards the amusement park he can faintly see in the distance. Peter smiles to himself as he thinks about how he’s early again . Something that he’s notoriously bad at.

Clicking on his phone to see the group chat with his friends buzzing with activity, Peter writes a quick, I’m 15 minutes away , to the group chat. An explosion of shock and surprise erupts from his device as he holds it away from him to avoid the flashing lights. Most of them seem to be in awe of the fact that Peter is going to arrive before anyone else, Harry mockingly threatening to use his helicopter to get there first, although Peter wouldn’t put it past him to actually live up to that threat.

It’s a quick dash. Honestly, if Peter wanted, he could have arrived even earlier, but… well, clearing his head is good, and the sea breeze against his face is nice. Kicking his feet against the sand as he watches the happy couples and families going around, ice creams in hand or fries, burgers… It's peaceful, and if it wasn’t for Peter questioning if the beach is about to become Sandman, he’d almost think this is a nice scene. He walks over to the ticket booth, smiling as he stands in line. 

“Next!” a brunette woman says from behind the booth, “How can I help you?” 

“Um… what’s different with the Spider-Man wristband?”

“Oh, nothing much, just that M- I mean Spider-Man has saved the park so many times, we wanted to create a wristband that lets you experience the sensation of being Spider-Man. It’s unlimited access to all the rides and attractions, including the air-based attractions like the Spider-Slinger.”

“Oh, well… how much is it?”

“Thirty-eight dollars, although you get twenty percent off for being a student.”

 “So, thirty dollars forty cents?” Peter asks, pulling out his wallet, counting out the money and placing it on the counter between them.

“Thank you! Here’s your wristband, and I hope you have a webtastic time!”

Raising an eyebrow as he slips the wristband on, a small smirk on his lips, Peter walks through the gates and into the park. His eyes wander over the colourful signs, and the smell of popcorn, grilled onions and hotdogs mix with the sounds of laughter, screams and cheers. 

Hearing the hum of helicopter blades overhead, Peter looks up, seeing the familiar silhouette of the Oscorp helicopter descending onto the landing pad within the park. Rolling his eyes as he checks his phone, Peter spots Harry getting out of the vehicle.

“Peter! I can’t believe it! How are you early ?!” 

“Eh, I just made sure to leave on time.”

“Nice shirt,” Harry mentions, clicking his way over to Peter as he slings his arm around the other boy, “Any news on the others?”

“We’ve got about five minutes until they’re meant to be here,” Peter mentions as he looks at the messages from MJ, chewing his cheek, “Is Flash going to be here too?”

“I think so… Let’s not talk about that, though. How are you?! I’m glad to see you don’t seem to be shaken up by the whole Spider-Man incident. My dad is always calling that man a menace. Endangering people like that… It’s bad, man.”

“Oh, yeah…” Peter responds sheepishly, scratching his cheek, “But I did get saved by him before the school exploded. I was trapped in the boiler room and-”

“Wait, I thought he got you out before the floor collapsed?”

“Well, I mean, would you try and get to the exit when a Minotaur and a man dressed as a spider are fighting? Plus, Spider-Man doesn’t seem that bad.”

“I don’t know, man… I think that he takes things too far and shouldn’t destroy all the public property. Although that new Arachkid is all right.”

“Right…”

Walking towards the main gate as they wait for the rest of the group to show up, the pair fall into a steady rhythm. The click of Harry’s crutch rings through the thoroughfare, their eyes trained on the main entrance as they watch for their friends. Finding an empty bench, the pair sit, breaths steady as they take in the scents of the amusement park around them.

“So, how are you finding school now?”

“Eh, same old, same old.”

“Not a challenge then.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, I don’t do anything. I don’t even actually attend the classes because my dad just hired private tutors instead.”

“Benefits of being rich.”

“Speaking of,” the rich boy says, looking at Peter’s phone in his hand, “Want me to buy you a new phone?”

“I… Harry, I can’t ask that of-”

“But you aren’t asking. It’s a gift…”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, it’s just… Something feels… different, Pete. Like we’re growing apart, and I still want to keep in contact.”

“Harry. We are not growing apart. It’s just that I’ve been busy with some things recently, like making that app for the Daily Bugle.”

Harry blinks, raising an eyebrow as he chuckles, “That was you?”

“Yeah. I wanted to make some extra money, and Mr. Jameson asked if I could do it so one thing led to another and boom.”

“Huh. I’m guessing there’s more to that story, but it looks like the rest of the guests of honour have arrived,” he mentions off-handedly, vaguely nodding in the direction of a shambling group of teenagers. The eclectic mix of varsity jackets, punk rock, and gothic stood out like a sore thumb.

“I swear, this friend group is one of the weirdest groups of people I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, yeah, but hey, what’s a friend group without diversity ?”

Groaning at the attempt to smooth the differences, Peter stands, helping Harry to his feet as they wave towards the group. Seeing the fiery redhead’s eyes light up as she spots them, dragging the blonde teen next to her towards them, the rest of the group follow, clearly understanding that she’d spotted the early arrivals.

“You’re late.”

“Oh, shut it, Pete,” MJ responds playfully as she rolls her eyes, “It’s actually because you’re early .”

“Right? Normally, I give Pete a time thats about thirty minutes earlier so he ends up on time.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, you’re not great with staying on schedule, bro,” Eddie says, huffing as he slaps Peter on the back.

“Didn’t realise all of you were friends with Parker…” Flash mutters as he stands to the side of the group, a small pout on his face.

“Well, that’s because you’ve never asked him for help,” Lonnie says, wrapping an arm around Peter, frowning before the smile on his face returns, “He’s actually kinda goated.”

“Lo, less slang. We’ve talked about this,” Pearl says, kicking the albino man's shin lightly.
“Right, right. Sorry.”

“Oh! I almost forgot! We brought someone else with us today, normally, we can’t get her to go anywhere. Meet our little stray cat of the Mary Janes: Felica Hardy!” Gwen says, standing aside as she pulls forward a platinum blonde.

Watching as the girl's eyes flash with annoyance as she’s thrust into the circle of the group, Peter frowns, seeing the girl pushing the tip of her tongue against her molars.

“As drummer girl said-”

“Hey!”

“I’m Felicia. It’s a displeasure to meet you,” the girl finishes, huffing as she slinks back to the outside of the circle.

“Oh, she’s- urgh! Sorry,” Flash mutters as MJ hits him in the ribs with her elbow.

But Peter is lost, his mind racing as he begins looking over the girl. Same build. Less revealing clothes, obviously, and a less flirtatious personality. There are some signs there, but-

“Looks like Flash isn’t the only one that finds her pretty,” Eddie says, smirking as he playfully nidges Peter.

Fighting back the urge to retort, Peter shrugs, “Well, she’s definitely… striking. Almost like she could steal a person’s heart… or their wallet,” he says, muttering the last phrase as he sees her eyes turn, narrowing as she looks him over. 

The biggest difference Peter can see between the girl and the Black Cat? Her eyes aren’t the same cat slit’s. That could be easily changed, though, if she were to put in contact lenses…

“So, what school do you go to, Felicia?”

“I don’t. I’m homeschooled by private tutors.”

“So, just like Harry,” the rest of the group says, a small laugh running through the group. 

Hearing the buzz of his phone, Peter looks down, seeing a notification from Ganke as he internally groans. Opening the message, he frowns. Apparently, the tip that he sent to Miles and Ganke about the UV residue. The trace of the water tracks traced out, two places marked for something . Luckily, nothing seems to have happened yet, but there are two targets. They really can’t afford to let whatever it is happen, so it looks like Peter’s going to need to head to… Conney Island Wastewater treatment plant. 

“Uh, hey guys, I’m gonna have to go. Mr. Jameson has found a problem with my app and he needs it sorted ASAP.”

“Wait, app? No, wait, Peter, we haven’t even-”

“I’m sorry! I’ll try and catch up with you guys later!” Peter yells, pushing through the crowd as he tries to ignore the disappointed faces of Harry and his friends. He faintly hears the murmured relief of Felicia, saying something about being able to leave now that she isn’t making up numbers.

Ignoring the snide comment, he leaps out of the park, running towards the nearest hidden alcove as he pulls his clothes off and shoves them into his bag, swapping them for his Arachkid suit. Webbing the backpack to the underside of the metro bridge before swinging off at full speed towards the wastewater treatment plant, Peter questions the timing and how badly it sucks, as he perches on a streetlight. Looking down at the treatment plant, he tilts his head.

“Ganke, where am I going?”

“Yikes, no, how are you ?”

“I was trying to relax with my friends and had to ditch them.”

“Right, sorry. Uh, it looks like you’ll need to sneak into the water treatment room before finding a device that looks like either a rediverter or something that might inject a poison or toxin into the water supply.”

“This guy was trying to poison the water in Conney Island? Why?”

“No clue. Miles hasn’t caught him yet. You should be in the clear, though. Miles heard Vermin talking and is currently heading to stop him in Harlem.”

“This feels a bit like a hate crime, considering where this Vermin dude has been targeting.”

Looking around for a vent to crawl into, Peter slowly approaches the water treatment plant. Seeing an open window, he shrugs to himself, leaping up and sliding through the gap before zipping himself to the ceiling. Crawling around the ceiling, he heads towards the water treatment facility. 

Tilting his head as he sees a collection of rats scurrying around the room, Peter frowns. The faint ring of what sounds like a flute being played in the distance. Following the noise as he heads towards the source of the noise, he looks into the room, the large concrete holes of filtered and disinfected water gape up at him as he looks around. Spotting a young boy playing a flute, surrounded by rats as they seem to bustle around him, Peter lowers himself down to eye level.

“Hi there. You know rats are one of the most unsanitary creatures in New York. You know, because they crawl through sewage.”

“Spiderman?”

“There’s a hyphen. I know you said it out loud, but I can tell. Also, I’m not. I’m Arachkid.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter, and my rats are clean! That’s why my dad told me to bring them here and wash them with this powder!” the boy says, showing Peter the bag as the rats begin swirling around the room.

“I see… what’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m Elvis, but my dad said I should call myself Rat Prince.”

“Alright, Elvis, and how old are you?”

“Eight!”

“Geez…” Peter mumbles as he lands on the floor, carefully avoiding the rats on the floor, “Can I see that powder, Elvis? Just to make sure that it’s safe for your rats.”

“Hmm… papa said that I shouldn’t give this to anyone but… I can trust you if you work with Spider-Man!” the boy says, a big toothy grin on his face as he holds out the bag to Peter.

“Thanks, Elvis,” Peter says, returning the smile from under his mask. Taking the powder, the lenses on his mask flicker as he opens the bag, the faint bitter almond scent clinging to the packet. 

Cyanide. Who in their right mind would leave a child alone with cyanide ?! Let alone send them into a water treatment plant by themselves! Cursing out Vermin, who he’s assuming is the father of Elvis, he takes the powder and looks at the boy. He’s looking up at him with those big, doe eyes, and Peter feels his heart twist.

“Alright, buddy. I’m going to keep a hold of this because it’s a little dangerous for rats.”

“Oh.”

“The good news is I can help you get your rats somewhere they’ll be safe and cleaned up.”

“Yay! Where?!”

“Come on, bud. Use your flute, and we’ll take them there.”

Slowly carrying the boy out of the plant, the small army of rats following them, Peter leaps through the air. The boy in his arms laughs gleefully as they swing across Salt Marsh Park, placing the boy down as they look at White Island.

“You see that island?” Peter asks, watching the boy nod, “If you tell your rats to go over there, they’ll be nice and safe, and once they swim through the river, they’ll be clean as well!”

“Okies!”

Watching as the boy plays a series of notes on the flute, Peter sees the rats swim across the river, the first landing on the island and shaking as Elvis laughs. Biting his tongue, Peter taps his earpiece.

“G?”

“Already sent someone. They should be arriving at your location in two minutes.” 

Nodding, Peter lowers himself, looking at Elvis, “Hey, buddy. Some people are going to come here, and they’re going to want to talk to you. Just tell them the truth like you did with me.”

“Ummmmm, okay!”

Hearing the soft footfall of people approaching behind him, Peter turns, nodding at the police and CPS workers as he hands them the sealed bag. Stepping away as he lets the proper authorities talk to the boy, Peter looks towards his house, sighing in frustration as he prepares to leap into the air.

“Thank you, Arachkid!” the voice of Elvis calls out to him. Turning to look at the boy, he gives a two-fingered salute before leaping and swinging away. As much as he’d like to return to his friends, his lie means he should probably head home instead. 

Heading back towards where he left his backpack, Peter double-checks all the items are safely tucked away before swinging back through Brooklyn. Silently taking in the setting sun, he continues moving, the motion getting faster and faster as he traverses the area back to Forest Green. How is he going to explain how early he’s back to May and Ben? How is he going to explain anything to his friends? If he knew that being a hero would mean lying to his closest friends and family, Peter might have wanted nothing to do with this.

Sighing, he flips as he lands on top of the Cinemart, changing into his clothes before flipping down to street level. Walking up the road towards his childhood home, Peter can’t shake a sense of unease as he approaches the building. Something feels… different. Unpleasant. Like something is waiting for him, and he’s not liking the feeling.

Feet thudding heavily against the wooden decking, Peter can make out the faint murmuring of voices. It almost sounds like… like May and Ben have a guest. Two, to be exact, but that’s even stranger. Silently pressing open the door, Peter crouches as he stalks his way towards the living room, the hairs on his body sticking up as he raises his wrists. Sure, it’ll give his guardians a bit of a shock, seeing him shoot webs, but he shouldn’t be hiding this from them if they’re in danger.

Turning the corner, Peter peeks in, seeing a wheelchair, and he freezes. A wheelchair? Why is there a wheelchair here? No, wait, the more important question is, how did the wheelchair get in the house? Telekinesis? Wait, but that means-

A sharp inhalation and the sound of someone falling to their knees snap Peter out of his thoughts as he barrels into the room. Looking around, he sees the surprised faces of May, crouched against the floor as she steadies a young woman with dark, crimson hair. A woman whom Peter knew a bit too well from his fantasies about being a hero. 

Jean Grey.

Then the person in the wheelchair is-

“Hello, Peter. I’m Professor Charles Xavier.”

Chapter Text

Gulping as he stares wide-eyed between the two founding members of the X-Men in the living room, Peter sees Uncle Ben returning to the room with a tray of water glasses. Seeing the man smile as he places the glasses down, passing them around as Jean steadily rises back to her feet, he questions what caused Jean to collapse to the floor to begin with.

“Thank you, Mr. Parker,” Professor Xavier says, raising the glass to his lips as he takes a sip of the drink, “Now, Peter, would you be kind enough to sit down for me?”

“Uh, sure?”

Sitting down on the sofa, Peter feels his leg start to bounce uncontrollably. Placing a hand on his leg, he tries to stop the bouncing, his eyes darting around the room as he tries to determine what’s happening. The only thing that would make sense is if he’s… but how would that work?

“Peter, would it be possible for you to lower your mental shield for me?” the man in the wheelchair asks, smiling as the crows feet at the corners of his eyes scrunch up. 

“Mental shield?”

“You’re not actively enforcing a mental shield?”

“I… look, if this is about me being a mutant, I don’t think that I-”

“We managed to detect you and another new mutant with New York after my X-Men finished their latest mission. You may not like it, but you are a mutant. I imagine you have gained some unexplained abilities recently?”

“I…” Peter says, pausing as he looks at the expectant faces of May and Ben. It hurts that he’s going to have to explain this to them now, but… “They’re… not really unexpected,” he continues, looking at the raised eyebrows and shocked expressions on the faces of the adults in the room, “I was bitten. By a spider, a little over a week ago, and I started developing spider powers.”

“I see. Well, it’s actually rather common for mutants' abilities to awaken when they’ve been placed into a stressful situation. Would you be able to explain your abilities?”

“Uh… I guess the easiest way to explain it is spider-human physiology? I have these organic webs coated in neurotoxin like orb weaver spiders. I can see ultraviolet light, which is kind of trippy and why I have these coloured lenses. Oh, and I seem to have some kind of parallel processing capability.”

“Ah, so a treasure trove of abilities, so to speak,” the wheelchair bound man says, “Is it safe for me to assume you also are the new ‘Arachkid’ spoken of in the news?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Good. Jean, I believe the reason for the pain when trying to read this young man’s mind likely stems from the parallel processing. Our minds aren’t able to keep up with the constant information stream.”

“So, the kid has a natural telepath resistance? That’s…” 

Nodding at Jean, stopping her from finishing her sentence, Professor Xavier turns back to May and Ben. Dangerous. That’s what Jean was trying to say. It makes sense, some of the strongest telepaths have used their abilities to soothe and settle issues, having someone that they can’t touch the mind of with physical abilities like Spider-Man? 

“As you can see, your nephew has developed his mutant powers and is already starting to put them to use for the betterment of society. I believe that at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Peter can truly flourish.”

“Wait, wait, wait! But what about New York?! What about Spider-Man?! I can’t just-” Peter begins saying before Jean’s hand rests on his shoulder. A soft, knowing smile on her face calms the teen as he bites his tongue.

“It’s okay, we can inform Spider-Man about the new arrangement. Besides, I’m sure the Professor will let you come back on the weekends to help out if you’re Aunt and Uncle agree.”

Following the gaze of the woman towards his guardians, Peter feels his chest tighten, his throat constricting as he sees the pair. The tension in their bodies. Their tears are swelling in the corners of their eyes. They’re feeling guilty.

“Peter… why didn’t you tell us?” Ben asks, carefully rubbing May’s back as she looks away from him.

“I… I didn’t want to worry you. I knew it would be expensive and I didn’t think I was a mutant so-”

“But you could have told us about becoming a hero. I know we haven’t been the biggest fans of Spider-Man, heck, I think most New Yorkers love and hate the man, but if something had happened to you…”

“I… I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay. We can get you the right support now, right, Professor Xavier?” May asks, sniffling into her handkerchief. 

“That is correct, Mrs. Parker. If you two would permit it, we would like to bring him to our school to join our body of students.”

“And how much does your school cost?”

“Oh, it doesn’t cost a thing. I take on all of my students regardless of the cost to me. After all, it also shows the world that you’re nephew is a mutant.”

“Is there no way for his identity to be secured?”

“I suppose it’s possible… We’ll have to explore options if that is your wish.”

“What do you think, Peter?” Ben asks, turning to look at him, the eyes in the room shifting to the boy as he stays glued to his seat. 

Becoming an X-Man? Well, maybe not straight away, but… the only negative is being a known mutant, but Peter had already been using that as an excuse. This would just confirm it. But what happens after that? Is it just another school? What does he tell his friends? Will he have to move?

“Peter?”

Jolting back to his senses, he looks around the room, seeing the concerned faces of Ben and May. Clearing his throat as he sits up straighter, Peter throws a stray glance to Jean, before facing his guardians.

“I… I think it's an opportunity I shouldn’t pass on, provided I can still work with Spider-Man… My… mutation means that he’s probably the best teacher for me.”

Humming, the Professor responds, “I agree that there are some things that Spider-Man can teach you, I think you’ll find that we also have a wide variety of students and teachers who can help you develop further. Although if you truly wish to still learn from him, I will contact him and work with him to get a schedule arranged.”

“I…”

“Peter,” Jean says, smiling as she leans over his shoulder to look at him, “How about you come and check out the school before you make any decisions?”

“That would be great.”

Nodding to the boy, the pair of telepaths begin talking with May and Ben, Peter zoning out as he thinks about the situation. He’s a mutant. He’s a mutant . Why does that feel like it changes everything? About his understanding of who his parents were.

Or does it? Does it actually change anything? He’s still Peter Parker. That hasn’t changed; the difference is that now he’s… well, more. It’s a little disappointing. He thought the spider that bit him was radioactive, like the comics about Miles being bitten, but to find out it just activated his latent mutant abilities? Maybe it influenced them. That would make more sense. 

But what should he do? Joining the X-Men is the right decision for Arachkid, but for Peter… No. It might still be possible, he just has to see what a day at the school is like. If he doesn’t like it, then he’s still got the option to turn it down. Yeah, that’s the best plan of action.

“-and so, we would like for Peter to spend the night at our school so that he will be able to attend the full day of classes without potential delays.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. Benjamin, would you help Peter pack his bag for the night?”

“Wait, what’s going on?”

“Do you zone out like this all the time?” Jean asks, teasing the boy as she gently ruffles his hair.

“No!... Actually, I’ve been doing that more since I was bitten…”

“Oh, nice. So, there is a side effect. Some kind of ADHD or decision paralysis. Maybe both.”

Tilting his head, Peter tries to question what she’s saying as he’s pulled to his feet. Not looking at Uncle Ben as he starts pulling Peter out of the living room. Hearing the professor chuckle, his eyes flick to the man before he’s removed from the room.

“They were saying that you might have two mutations. The spider-human physiology, and some type of telepathic or mental mutation that resulted in your parallel processing.”

“So… the whole precognition and parallel processing is a separate mutation from the spider one?”

“Sounds like it might be. They said they’d do some tests on you if you feel up to it.”

“...I have some medical questions myself that I want answered… Speaking of, Uncle Ben, I need to tell you something, and don’t freak out.”

“You can tell me anything, Peter, and I’m sorry if we ever made you feel like you couldn’t.”

Biting on his tongue, the boy nods before responding, “When I was sick on the Oscorp trip, I… I might have thrown up a lot of blood.”

“What?!” 

“I said, don’t freak out!”

“Right, right. Sorry… do you know why?” the man asks, running his hand through his grey hair as he waits for Peter’s response.

“Uh, kinda. Spider-Man had a friend run some tests on me, and we thought that part of the spider bite's effects was that my blood was changing, but if it was a mutation…”

“Then it would be because the mutation was changing your body… So… do you not have blood anymore?”

“Not traditional blood. I have spider blood, haemolymph and maybe regular blood.”

“Let me guess, the thing you’re most worried about is blood transfusions?”

“...Yeah. Especially with the whole… You know,” Peter mentions off-handedly, indicating to himself.

“Well, I think you can worry about that after you’ve decided if you’re going to start going to Xavier's School.”

“Are you okay with this?”

“Well… your Aunt May and I just want what’s best for you, Pete. If that happens to be moving school, to a school where you don’t have to hide your powers, then we will support you.”

Helping to pack the last couple of clothes and notebooks into his bag, Peter gulps back the lump in his throat, smiling as his vision blurs slightly behind the green lenses of his glasses. Reaching over and hugging the man, he sniffles against his shirt before pulling back.

“Thanks, Uncle Ben.”

“No worries, Pete. And hey, for what it’s worth, I think you’ll love the school.”

“...So do I. I just… I don’t know what to tell everyone.”

“The truth. Or at least parts of it. All you have to say is you're a mutant and got offered to switch to a boarding school.”

“Right…” Peter responds, feeling the backpack being pushed onto his back as he looks at the floor.

Ambling down the stairs in silence, following the broad man as he stomps down to meet with the other adults. Alright, Peter. Message your friends on the journey to the new school. Let them know about what's happening and if… If he does decide to go there, then tell them. 

“Are you ready, my boy?” the professor asks, his wheelchair moving over to wheel alongside him. Nodding, the professor and Jean smile at him, moving towards the front door as May and Ben walk behind the trio slowly. Turning as he gets to the door, Peter looks at the faces of his family, standing in the doorway to his childhood home. 

Running over and hugging the pair, he squeezes them. For now, it’s just one day. For now, he’ll see them again. For now, he gets to see them smile at him in this home. Giving them one more squeeze before pulling back, Peter stands tall, taking a deep breath in as he walks down the wooden steps, trying to ignore the sad expressions on their face. 

“You’ll be back on the weekend, regardless, Peter. It is only a temporary farewell.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I just need to focus on what I can do.” And remain confident, he mentally says to himself. Giving one final glance to the guardians who raised him for the last decade.

“We’re parked just around the corner,” Jean mentions as the trio continues their journey in near silence. Stopping as they arrive at a slick, black SUV, Jean opens the back door and slides a ramp down for the professor. Rolling up the ramp and buckling himself in using telekinesis, the casual usage of which surprises Peter, Charles Xavier nods to Jean as she pushes up the ramp and closes the door. Blinking as he realises they’re waiting for him to get into the vehicle, Peter clicks open the front door and buckles in before pulling the door closed behind him. Pulling out his phone, Peter’s fingers hover over the keypad as he looks at the group chat. 

KISS. Keep it Simple Silly. Sighing as he punches in a quick message about being offered a place at a boarding school and that he’s going to check it out, Peter places the phone on silent. Not ready for the bombardment of messages that he knows will inevitably follow the message.

“I like your shirt,” Jean says, slipping into the driver's seat as she slowly begins driving the car out of Forest Hills.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. ‘The Mary Janes.’ They’re… well, most of them are my friends.”

“Really? Jubilee and Sunspot will love that. They went to one of their concerts and got hooked on the music, much to the annoyance of some of the… quieter residents.”

“...I’ll see if I can talk to MJ and the girls to see if they can get me any merch for them.”

“See, you’re going to fit in just fine!”

“That’s what I’m worried about…”

Silence. The woman and the man in the car with Peter are trying to process what he means. Of course, it must be difficult for people who can normally read minds to figure out what he means. After all, who needs to read body language or between the lines when you can hear what they’re saying in their mind? The car rattles through the suburbs of New York, gradually pushing through the Bronx along the I-678 northbound. 

The silence is broken, the professor speaking from behind Peter, “What is it that you’re worried about losing?”

“...My friends. My house. The city itself. New York is the city that never sleeps, and I’m worried that by moving away, I’ll lose something . Maybe everything.”

“You shouldn’t worry about that,” Jean says, eyes glancing at the boy. Empathy laced across her face, Peter sighs in response.

“Why? Because I’m a child? I have the power to help. To be responsible and accountable.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because… It’s the right thing to do. No one should have to lose anything because of someone else's mistakes or power.”

“But if you sacrifice yourself, aren’t you losing?”

“No. Because I’m using my power to help others.”

“That’s… a hero complex, alright… You and Scott are going to be… well, not my problem.”

“Yes. I believe the similarities between the two are… startling, although Scott should be able to steer Peter here in a better direction than the path’s he’s gone down.”

“Um, I was hoping that I could become more like Spider-Man…” Peter mentions, hearing both of the adults groan in response to the statement, “Is there something wrong with that?”

“Well, it’s not wrong…”

“Spider-Man can just be a little problematic with how he acts… Some of us find how he acts in serious situations to be disrespectful.”

“But he does that to try and relax people…”

“Whilst it may help to relax the civilians, for those of us who have fought alongside him, it often makes it seem that he’s not trying. There are more ways to lead, relax and inspire than just making jokes, and if that is the path you are destined for, then I hope that my school will help you learn and embrace this role.”

Looking out the window, Peter hums, thinking about the idea. It’s not a bad idea. If he wants to be exceptional, maybe he should consider learning from more people. It’s not a bad thing to have options. 

“So, if I wanted to try and… be different, what-”

“You’ll learn in due time, but first, you need to experience the problems the habits of Spider-Man have caused.”

Frowning, Peter tilts his head, looking at the professor in the back of the vehicle. The man simply smiles, the boy's eyes narrowing in response to the gesture. 

“I think that what Professor Xavier is trying to say is that you should see how others react to the current you. Although from the newspaper articles written about you, I’d say you’re already setting a better example.”

“Right…” 

Looking back out of the window, Peter hears the click of the indicator as Jean turns onto NY-116 E, spinning around towards a quiet road. The forest surrounding the vehicle looms over the road like skeletal fingers as they keep following the road. He shivers, a faint sense of eerie beauty present in the journey, moonlight glimmering off the surface of the reservoir to his right.

The car continues to rattle down the road, only slowing when they notice a small, gravelled driveway present itself on the left of the road. Pausing as they let a red Volkswagen and a purple Honda roll past the driveway before they roll up the drive. The dull thrum of the wheels rolling over the gravel with a distinct clicking pop of the rocks fills the air. 

“There it is. Welcome to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.”

Looking at the imposing building, Peter baulks slightly. The stonework of the castle-like mansion is framed in the glow of moonlight. Warm glowing lights through metal-laced windows shine like eyes, and Peter swears something is watching him. His Spider-Sense wouldn’t be tingling like this if something wasn’t watching him. Or trying to hurt him.

Rolling up towards the building, Peter almost jumps out of his seat as the ground in front of them opens up. Slowly descending into the garage, the boy turns, looking out the window as he watches the trapdoor slowly closing behind them. Spinning as Jean slowly parks the car, the boy grabs his bag, unbuckling from his seat as the car makes a gentle screech as it comes to a full stop.

He steps out of the car, the professor being telekinetically lifted out of it this time, as Peter waits, following Jean and the man in the wheelchair. Seeing a brunette man standing by the door they’re walking towards, seemingly telling off a pair of young girls who can’t be much older or younger than Peter, he sees the man stop, his sunglasses lens covered eyes meeting Jean’s as he stands up straight. Clearly telling the girls to go inside, neither girl listens, instead turning to look at the group. Watching as the brunette of the pair turns to her friend, covering her mouth as she whispers something. The two girls seemingly run off through the door, but not before Peter catches a glimpse of the pair giving him another look over before it clicks shut behind them.

“Welcome back, Professor, Jean. Is he one of the new kids you mentioned finding with the Cerebro?”

“Yes, Scott. This is Peter. Peter, Scott, although you may know him better as Cyclops,” the professor explains, sliding between the two. Looking at the man as he extends a hand, Peter looks into the ruby red lenses of the man's glasses, extending his own as he shakes hands with the firm palm of the man.

“Nice glasses. I like the green.”

“Thanks, I kinda like the red of yours better, but these are prescription.”

“Ah, mutant side effect as well, huh? Nice to have someone else who has a similar drawback, not that it’s a good thing. What about the other one?”

Clearing her throat as she shakes her head in response to the question, Jean steps over, placing a kiss on the man's cheek as she pats his shoulder, “Well, Peter here has a very similar personality to you. Especially young you.”

“Please don’t say it like that, Jean. You’re making me feel old.”

“We are getting there, dear.”

Listening to the man groan, Peter looks at the Professor as he slowly wheels his chair towards the door. Following the man as he watches Scott and Jean continue their conversation, he silently contemplates what Jean meant.

“I wouldn’t think about what Jean was talking about, Peter, after all, that is… a thorny path that you may have to walk. Especially with some of the younger members of our team.”

“How did you-”

“I must admit, it took me a while to perfect it, but I have managed to shut out the external processes that your brain is running,” the man says, slipping into an elevator, “In fact, I found it quite an amusing challenge. To have to shield my own mind whilst probing yours was truly an enlightening experience. Of course, I will refrain from looking into your mind as I do with all my students, nor will I enlighten others on this… unique possibility.”

“Okay. That’s kind of terrifying and cool at the same time,” Peter admits, blinking rapidly as he gets over his initial shock.

“That is nothing, my dear boy. One day, I believe you will have even greater abilities. Something about you makes me feel like you’ll be leading us once all is said and done.”

Watching the man wheel out of the elevator, Peter stays frozen, processing what the man just told him before leaping out of the closing doors.

“Now, come along. Let’s get you into a room.”

Chapter Text

Waking up is weird. Unfamiliar bed. Unfamiliar ceiling. Unfamiliar smells… Is that popcorn? Who has popcorn for breakfast?! Groaning to himself as he pulls himself up, Peter looks at the heavy green bedspread that he’s lying on. Slowly pulling the covers off himself, he stretches, walking over to his bag as he picks out his clothes, the worn faded jeans, yellow shirt and blue and black checkered flannel slip onto his body naturally. Sliding his glasses on, he walks around the room, deciding to go and have breakfast, even if it’s alone. 

Opening the door to the room, he freezes as he suddenly comes face to face with a rhinoceros. Why is there a-? Wait, where did all of these animals come from? In fact, how is there a freakin’ dinosaur?! Is that a Utahraptor? Its size is-

Wait! He needs to stop getting distracted. Looking up at the ceiling, Peter reaches for the doorframe, spinning as he flips himself onto the ceiling, walking upside down towards the kitchen. It’s a little strange that these guys are heading in the same direction. Maybe it’s time for them to get food as well?

“Oh, no. Did my mutation extend to a human?!” a petite girl, short black hair tussled in a nest of bed hair, a pair of birds nestled in it, questions, “No, no, no, no! What am I going to do?! I’ve got to cover this up! I can’t let Scott or the Professor find out about this. Um, hi, mister, could you come down from the ceiling?”

Blinking in confusion, Peter tilts his head, “Um… I think there's been a misunderstanding.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I don’t know what I would have done if I suddenly gained the ability to control and communicate with humans! Oh, although I guess I can already do that last part.”

“Yeah… why would you think that anyways?”

“Well, you’re walking on the ceiling. Kinda thought you probably have some kind of animal-based mutation… Gecko was my first thought.”

“Huh… so it isn’t unusual?”

“Nah, Kurt's always walking on the walls when he’s not teleporting… There’s also the others with lizard powers and whatnot, but you seem more human than some of them, which is…” the girl continues, trailing off as she startles, “ Sorry, where are my manners! You’re new, right? I’m Sophia Sanduval, although I prefer to go by Chat. Most of us in the mansion tend to go by our monikers rather than our actual names.”

“Oh, okay. Nice to meet you, Chat. I’m Peter Parker. I’m here on a trial for the day.”

“Okay, no moniker, that’s cool,” the girl mumbles, frowning before smiling at Peter again, “I’m sure you’ll be fine! I mean, we’re already getting along great, and we’ve just met!”

“Ah, yeah. Are you the one making popcorn for breakfast or…”

“Popcorn? Wait… KITTY!”

Watching as the girl begins stomping out of the common room and down the hallway. Peter silently groans, looking at the vast open space before flipping to the floor and following after Chat. Seeing the girl dart into a door on the left of the hall, Peter quickly spins into the tiled room, catching a startled yelp from a vaguely familiar brunette. 

“Kitty! You know you’re not meant to be eating popcorn!”

“But it’s so good!” the brunette, apparently Kitty, whines as Chat turns off the popcorn machine in the corner of the room.

“I’m sure it is when you coat it in salted caramel ! You remember that you’re meant to be cutting down on the sugar?!”

“But-”

“No!”

“I-”

“NO!”

“Meanie- uh… who’s that?” Kitty says, eyes locking with Peter’s for a second before looking away.

“Oh, he’s Peter. He’s testing out the school today.”

“Hell of a day to do that with Friday’s being test days and everything…”

“I think I recognise you,” Peter mentions, stepping into the kitchen, trying to ignore how the room takes up about the same space as Ben and May’s house.

“Oh? I don’t think so,” the brunette girl says, shrinking a little as she subtly tries to shift her weight away.

“You and some blonde girl were talking to Scott… Although I think it might actually have just you being told off.”

“NO!” Kitty shouts, eyes widening as she covers her mouth, slowly peeling her fingers away, “Illyana and I weren’t being told off… We were being… educated.”

“Uh-huh,” Chat says, staring blankly at the girl as she seems to shrink away from the look. 

“Urgh… Tactical retreat!” 

He raises an eyebrow, watching as the girl takes a deep breath and charges towards a wall. Before he can shoot a web to stop her from hitting her head, she vanishes through the wall, leaving the boy blinking. Looking around the room, he hears Chat sigh as she sets the machine back down, grumbling something about figuring out what to do with the popcorn.

“How did she-”

“Oh, right. You’re new. Kitty can phase through objects by controlling her density.”

“That’s… awesome.”

“It also means that she can get into trouble and avoid the consequences pretty easily.”

“Right… So, what can I do for breakfast?”

Humming, Chat looks around the room before shrugging, “Want some popcorn?”

“...it’s a little early for me.”

“Right? Well, you’re also free to almost everything else unless it’s labelled otherwise.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Yep! Now I’ve gotta go and feed the animals. I’m the only one they all listen to after all. I’ll see you in class, Peter!”

“Ah, right! See you in class, Chat.”

They smile at each other as Chat leaves the room, whistling as the herd of animals stomp down the hallway. The noise of the front door clicking open and the animals moving out of the building fills the space before it returns to silence. Humming to himself, Peter looks around the space, trying to decide on what he wants.

Moving through the kitchen, Peter begins preparing food, mixing together a batter of eggs, oat flour, buckwheat flour, yoghurt and milk as he tries to recall the recipe. Aunt May’s Wheatcakes. Some sense of… usual in a brand new, chaotic school day. It’s already descended into chaos. This should keep him at least a little grounded.

Humming to himself as he flips the first of the wheatcakes, marvelling at his newfound cooking prowess, he debates internally if this is another side effect of spider powers. Or maybe parallel processing? More likely than not, it’s a mix of the two.

“What are you cooking?” 

“My aunt’s wheatcake recipe. Want some?” Peter asks, glancing at Kitty as she hovers over his shoulder.

“You don’t seem surprised I’m here,” the girl replies, frowning as she looks at him, eyes silently tracing the lines of his face.

“I got the general feeling that there was kinda someone lurking around, and I kinda thought that could be you, because apparently you can kinda phase in and out of materials. Also, I saw you poke your head through the wall to try and steal the popcorn back from Chat.”

“Urgh… you saw that, huh… I’ll take a wheatcake. What even is a wheatcake?”

“Hmm… I don’t really know how to describe aside from calling it a heartier pancake.”

“Hmmm~ So I can have it with syrup?”

“...and butter, but yes. Just… don’t get me into trouble with your sugar addiction,” Peter jokes as he slides her a plate with the freshly cooked wheatcake on it. 

“No promises~” the girl sings back, leaning up onto the counter, sticking her tongue out as she tries to reach for the syrup in the cupboard. Her hand wraps around the bottle as she hops back down.

“Why do I feel like I’m gonna be in so much trouble?” Peter mumbles rhetorically as he listens to the girl happily humming, slicing a small amount of butter onto the wheatcake. His eyes narrow as she pours syrup onto the wheatcake, stopping with a lot less syrup than he was expecting. Focusing back on cooking the last two wheatcakes, Peter feels sweat dripping down his face, and Kitty’s eyes bore into his face. “You can eat, you know?”

“Hmm… I thought you’d prefer to eat with someone.”

“I… sure.”

“Good. Now, could I get another one?”

“...You were just trying to get extra food.”

“No! I want it for my new best friend, Illy.”

“Oh… my bad. Here.”

“Thanks! Now come on! Illy should be waiting for us in the dining room.”

Following the girl after turning off the stove and placing the frying pan in the dishwasher, Kitty begins piling breakfast condiments onto a serving tray, nudging it towards the boy. Batting her eyelashes innocently, he bites his tongue, picking up the tray as Peter walks up the walls of the hallway. The ornate woodwork mixed with plain plaster seems like it would be a disaster to fix if something went wrong.

Entering the dining room, Peter is struck by how pristine and warm the dark, wooded room is. Despite the three large, opulent windows residing at the end of the rich mahogany table, it feels like the room is still in shadow. The walls are almost leaning over in an overbearing weight. Sitting halfway up the table is a blonde girl, her hair and demeanour seemingly drinking in the expansive darkness, brightening the space around her.

“Illy! I brought the new kid! He recognized me from yesterday which sucks, but he did also make us breakfast. Here!” Kitty says, placing the plain wheatcake in front of her friend, the multitude of toppings she’d insisted Peter carry.

“I see,” Illyana responds, her Russian accent thick, catching Peter slightly off guard as he takes a seat opposite the two girls, “Thank you, new kid. Although I do not know how I can call you that when I have only just joined myself.”

“Uh, don’t worry about it? Do you… предпочитаете говорить по-русски? (Prefer to speak in Russian?)”

Watching the girl blink, then frown with a small smile on her face as she leans forward, “Вы говорите по-русски? (You can speak Russian?)”

“Немного (A little)”

“Hmm… well, for the sake of Kitty, I would prefer English. Besides, the Professor didn’t reprogram my brain to understand and speak English for nothing.”

“Why can you speak Russian?” Kitty asks, eyes glistening as she looks between the pair, cutting into her steaming wheatcake.

“...Because I wanted to be an Avenger. I learnt a lot of the languages of the world. The major ones that is.”

“Oh, whoa! You’re gonna be real popular with the teachers!”

“Speaking of teachers, you were wrong about your bet if he wanted to be an Avenger.”

“Huh? Oh! Uh… shoot.”

“Bet?”

“When we saw you in the parking lot. Kitty said you wanted to be like Scott, so you even coloured your glasses lenses. I said it was a result of your mutant power.”

“...And what did you win?”

“Kitty will do me a single favour,” Illyana mentions, finishing spreading a thin layer of what Peter thinks is apricot varenye over the wheatcake. The small stone fruits glisten as she takes a cautious bite of the food. “This is very good.”

“Ah, thanks. It’s my Aunt’s recipe.”

“Hmm. I will have to give you a thank-you note for your aunt, then.”

“Right…”

“Oh, man. Illyana is right. You know, you could make for a pretty good cook,” Kitty says whilst chewing on her food, “what’s your mutation anyway?”

“Oh, I haven’t been tested yet, but at the bare minimum, it’s spider-human physiology.”

“What, like Spider-Man?” Kitty remarks sarcastically, about to take another bite of food, before looking at the serious expression on Peter’s face. “No… Wait, actually?!”

“Yeah… I’m, uh, Arachkid. I don’t know if you might have heard of-”

“You are the Arachkid?” Illyana chimes in, picking up the newspaper, flipping it to a picture of himself in the costume.

“Yeah.”

“He looks like Scott. Has a personality similar to Scott. I believe that you have found-”

“Illyana!” Kitty screams, covering the other girl's mouth, a faint, creeping blush forming on her cheeks and the tips of her ears.

“Alright, kids, settle down,” the firm voice of Scott says, the door creaking open as he walks towards them, “How are you feeling, Peter?”

“Good. I was a little startled when I woke up the dinosaur-”

“Oh, Rex. Yeah, he’s a sweetheart once he gets used to you.”

“Uh, a bit of an ironic name for a utahraptor, isn’t it?”

“Eh, I don’t name the pets. Anyway, when you’re done with breakfast, get Kitty to show you to the medical bay.”

“Right,” Peter responds, seeing Kitty flash a smile towards him. Seeing the man frown as he looks at the boy, eyes widening behind his glasses, as the man reaches out to touch his face and hair.

“Hmm… you really do have the potential to look like a younger me… I can’t believe it.”

“Uh…”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a clone of me! Anyway, Hank’ll be waiting for you. Kitty, Illyana, remember we have mutation tests today.”

“Okies!”

“Alright, Scott.”

The trio wave to the ruby glasses-wearing man, returning to their breakfast in near silence. Peter looks at his wheatcake, the soft clinking of his silverware hitting the plate as he cuts up the food. Chewing slowly as he absentmindedly listens to the conversation between Kitty and Illyana, he thinks about his plan.

First, ask about his cardiovascular system. That's the most pressing issue for him. Plus, any underlying mutations that might be causing him some problems. Actually, how do they test the mutations? Is there a machine? Is it a physical-

“-Peter?”

“Huh, what? Sorry, I missed that, Illyana. What were you saying?”

“We asked if you would let us style your hair a bit.”

“What?”

“Well, you know what Scott said, right? We wanted to see how similar you look!” Kitty exclaims as she looks across the table with bright eyes.

“Uh… Sure? But wouldn’t it be better to wait until after my medical check-up?”

Smirking, Kitty nudges Illyana, the blonde rolling her eyes before returning the smirk. A small circle expanding between the pair, outlined in a fiery yellow aura. The inside of the circle displays a series of hairsprays and bottles.

“Nope. We’re going to do it now.”

“Wait, what?”

Grinning, the girls grab their supplies, Kitty phasing through the table and grabbing him. Peter’s eyes widen, stiffening in his place, Illyana vaulting over the table as the two girls begin spraying and playing with his hair. The two argue and discuss the hair, seeming to ignore Peter as he stays still, trying not to look at either girl as they continue to fiddle with his hair. 

“Hmm… done! I think it would look more like Scott if your hair is slightly longer, but… You really do look like him, huh? Are you two related?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Huh. Well, it’s a little uncanny. Anyways! Let’s go!”

“Wait, what?”

“To the medbay. Come on, Petie!” Kitty says, dragging him out of his seat, Illyana flanking him. 

Looking around as he tries to catch his footing as he’s dragged through the mansion, Peter is taken down the staircase. The expansive rooms opening up around him feel straight out of a sci-fi movie, high glass windows exposing the room’s interiors as they shuffle through the halls. Turning into a room, Kitty knocks on a large metallic door, letting go of Peter’s wrists.

“Yes?”

“It’s Kitty! I brought Peter, oh, uh, the new mutant!”

“Ah, I see. Well, come in, come in,” the now distinctly posh British voice rings out. Pressing a button next to the door, it hisses open, steam unfurling from the door as they walk into the room. “Ah, Mr. Parker, I presume,” a blue-furred ape-looking man says, as he leaps down from an array of cables, a computer situated amongst the chaos, “Hank McCoy. Although you can also call me Beast.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. McCoy. How… how does this work?”

“Ah, yes. Well, it’s a simple process, really. We’ll first start by taking a general MRI to assess your physical composition, and then we’ll move on to the mutation analysis.”

“Um… is there a way you can check my cardiovascular system?”

Watching as the ape-man adjusts his glasses, subconsciously copying the motion, Hank responds, “Oh? Is there something with your cardiovascular system that we need to test?”

“Kinda. More like I want to know something. When I… mutated, I threw up a lot of blood, and when I did some tests with Spider-Man to determine my powers… well, I seem to have Hemolymph and blood. Or at least I did? It’s complicated, and I’m worried about what it could mean if I ever need a transfusion.”

“Fascinating. We can definitely run some tests on your cardiovascular system as well. In fact, I would love to study your blood, it could prove vital in understanding mutations. Now, Kitty, Illyana, I would suggest you go to your lessons.”

“Fine~!” “Very well.”

Waiting for the two girls to leave, the large man nods, pointing towards what Peter assumes is a changing room. Stepping into the space, he finds a jumpsuit folded neatly on the chair. Picking it up, Peter looks at the interior, noting the design for the vital sensors laced through it.

“This is cool,” Peter says, stepping out of the changing room in the black and blue suit.

“Yes, I designed it for functionality, although I did try to add some fashion to it. Now, step into the machine, and remain still,” the man says, pointing towards a tall vertical machine. It’s bright lights shining yellow as Peter steps onto the outlines of feet. Hearing the machine hum and whir to life, Peter relaxes, the beams of light fanning out around him as he feels a slight tingle running across his skin. 

Seeing the machine finish its scan, the beams of light return to the sides of the machine. Stepping out of the machine as he sees Hank raising an eyebrow before nodding, Peter waits for the next step.

“Well, let’s test your cardiovascular system next. Sit in the chair and I’ll draw some blood.”

Nodding, Peter sits down in the chair, his left arm held out as Beast quickly begins pulling out a needle and vials. Tapping the tip of the needle as he ejects as much of the air out of the needle as possible. Pressing the needle against Peter’s arm, the needle pierces into the boy's skin, slowly drawing out a vial full of blue, viscous liquid. The man presses a cotton pad against the injury before pulling it away. 

“Accelerated healing as well… Very interesting. Now, we’ll just go through the basics of physical exertion, lifting, running, jumping, etc.” 

“Alright,” Peter responds, standing up as Beast begins fiddling with the vial of blood before directing him to another room. The large gym sprawls out before the pair, the younger of the two’s eyes widening as he looks at the room. 

“Now, let’s finish up these tests.”

Chapter Text

“How fascinating,” the blue-furred man says, scrolling through the data collected on his computer. Stepping out of the changing room, Peter looks up towards the tangled nest of cables where Beast is sitting, clicking on his computer slowly. Flicking a web towards the ceiling and crawling towards the man, he looks over his shoulder at the screen.

“Whoa. Are those really my numbers?”

“Yes. It would seem that Spider-Man truly does hold back. That or perhaps your unique mutation has brought about an even larger increase than a standard mutates abilities… Your physical capabilities are roughly 200 times that of a normal person of your stature.”

“I’m sorry, mutate?”

“Ah, yes. So, this is a fascinating case study, actually,” Hank says, flipping the folders over as he begins displaying a genome, “See, whilst normal mutants exhibit the X-Gene, seen here,” he points towards an isolated twin helix strip, “A mutant that goes through a second mutation has an alteration to this genome. Here is mine for comparison. Notice the distinct X2 genome, a spiral of repeating code. This indicates that the mutant has a second mutation that is both isolated from the original and intertwined. However, your genome only contains the X-Gene.”

“Which means I don’t have two mutations. So why can’t my spider powers be part of my  mutation?”

“ Because , studying your genome, I can see that you’ve had your mutation for nine years. Can you think of a traumatic event around that time period when you were six?”

“Uh… my parents left for work and… well, their plane crashed.”

 “Ah, I’m sorry for bringing up sour memories, however, I believe that would have been the start of your mutation.”

“What?”

“Yes. Although I am surprised you managed to evade the Cerebro, I believe that I understand why. Your true mutation is telepathic. More precisely, your mutation is sort of a shield to the minds of others. One that enhances your neural pathways to make them less susceptible to detection and allowing for incredible moments of reflexes and action if concentrated fully. The side effect, I imagine, would be your mind wandering. You’ve been subconsciously shielding yourself for so long, it’s become second nature.”

“I… then what-”

“The change is the spider bite. It seems the arachnid that bit you imbued you with powers, similar to Spider-Man, with one key difference. The place of the bite. See, the spider bit you along your spinal cord, which in turn affected your brain first, tricking your body into believing that the powers you developed stem from your mutation.”

“So… what does that mean?”

“Two things. The first, you’re parallel processing is more… original. It is your true gift as a telepath, and honestly, unlike what other telepaths I am aware of have. Think of it as having bipolar, except all of the symptoms act at the same time because of your telepathic nature.”

“What the actual… Okay. No. I think I can get used to that. So the spider bite gave me some kind of… bipolar disorder?”

“Well, more it reworked your brain to be able to see ultraviolet light and if you develop eight eyes, well.”

“Gotcha… so a preemptive sort of thing.”

“Exactly. Now the second part is your… bones and cardiovascular system. You are aware of the hemolymph as we discussed, but what I have also discovered is… well, you’re bones are now encased in a spider-like exoskeleton.”

“Huh?”

“Well, in the same way, spiders move through pumping blood into their limbs to move the muscles, you also have a hydraulic pressure system encasing your bones.”

“I’m sorry, what?!”

“Basically, your X-Gene was mutated. The abilities that you already had as a telepath were amplified because you’re mutation from the spider bites aligned almost too well with your existing mutant abilities. Excluding the increased strength, but that’s more of a side effect of the hydraulic system that increased your telepathically enhanced reflexes.”

“So… my abilities are basically a mutation of my mutant abilities. An extension of what I could already do?”

“Exactly. I believe it’s the similar nature of these two mutations that has resulted in you not receiving an X2 genome.”

Humming to himself as he looks at the documents outlining his detailed stats, Peter scratches his head. “So what now?”

“Ah, an official X-Man suit, I believe and combat classes. To test if you can protect yourself and others, of course.”

Following Hank as he thuds against the floor, Peter flips onto the ground. Walking towards a machine, the large man begins pressing a series of buttons, the device opening up with a touchscreen. A soft blue glow emanates from the interior as Peter looks inside it.

“What is this?”

“This is a suit fabricator. To make things simpler, we just send the physical data we receive from the tests to the machine. Then we ask for specific designs, and in around an hour, your suit will be ready.”

“Oh, nice. Better than making it by hand.”

“Yes. My hands don’t quite facilitate that arrangement.”

“Right… So I just put in my design and it spits it back out?”

“In an hour, yes. Just put in the key design notes, and the machine will make something in the X-Men style that fits the criteria.”

Nodding, Peter walks over to the display, putting in the details for his costume. A spider, webbing design, lenses that stop UV light, and web wings with the exact measurements and style as his Arachkid costume. Watching as the machine buffers briefly, Peter watches as a dark blue suit appears on the screen, a large spider shaped to look like an X spread across the chest in bold yellow and gold. Webs of similar colours stretch and weave between the legs of the spider, and web wings on the sides of the suit are a pale white with yellow webs lacing the design. Grey, blank staring lenses on the mask gaze at him. Blinking as he looks at the design, he watches Beast raise an eyebrow at the design before nodding in approval.

“Any changes to the design that you don’t like?”

Looking over the design one last time, Peter nods, clicking on the suit. Making one last change to the suit before clicking the green button. Smiling as he watches the lenses of the mask change from the grey and black tones to green and black, as they settle onto the plate of the fabricator.

“Hah! Well, time for you to get to classes. Remember, not everyone can handle the punishment that you can deal out. Not that it should be a problem, right, Logan?”

Eyes widening, Peter spins on his heel, seeing the staggeringly short man leaning on the wall of the laboratory. Glancing over the figure a couple of times as he takes in the stocky, well-built physique and the faint scent of alcohol and cigars that seems to permeate the air. Sure, the guy snuck up on him and wasn’t intending any harm… he thinks. The problem is that now that he’s looking at him, his Spider Sense is going haywire, saying that the man is a threat.

“You’re shorter than I thought,” Peter blurts out, covering his mouth as he watches the man’s eyes narrow, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

“Save it, Bub. I don’t care. Boy Scout is making sure you get to yer classes alrigh’ so I’m your babysitter,” Wolverine, well, apparently Logan, responds, cutting off Peter.

“Oh, right. I’m a big fan.”

“Uh-huh. No one’s a fan of me, Kid.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s true, Logan. A lot of the kids see you as a role model, especially with your recent change in demeanour,” Hank interjects.

“...I ain’t believing it, Hank.”

“And you should learn to accept it. I mean, even Peter here admires you, and he only just arrived here.”

“...Whatever, Bub. Let’s get moving, Kid. I ain’t got all day to dawdle.”

Huffing as he pushes off the wall, Logan presses the button to the door, walking out without turning to look at the boy. Racing after him as he realises the man isn’t going to stop, Peter waves to Hank, slipping through the gap in the wall as he skids to a stop. Looking for the man, Peter spots him a couple of feet away, walking down the stairs. Wondering how the man moves so fast, Peter sprints after him, hearing the man mutter under his breath.

“...I ain’t like this. Not one bit. I keep sayin’ I ain’t the Boy Scout’s helper and he sends me to grab a kid that looks just like ‘em. I ain’t liking this. Not one bit.”

“Uh, so where are we going?”

Without batting an eyelash, the man huffs as he continues descending, “Second basement level. Danger Room. Weekly assessment of you yonugin’s skills.”

“Uh-”

“Better you just wait till we get there, kid,” Logan says, his voice gruff as they continue down the stairs. The silence is deafening in its own way, the blank canvas of noise cocooning the world. Peter tries not to make any noise. He’s disappointed. Honestly, he wanted to ask Wolverine some questions, maybe get some tips from the man. Out of everyone in the X-Men, he’s the one that Peter considered to be the best. Not because he’s the strongest, or has the most flashy power, but because his experiences, his knowledge could serve as a lesson. One that Peter is eager to learn, especially with the foreboding comment about being the leader of the X-Men one day. That’s put him on edge.

“...What is it, Bub?”

“What’s, what?”

“Your question. I ain’t promising I got an answer you’ll like, but I can tell ya wanna ask somethin’.”

“...You’re right, it’s just… The professor said he thinks I could lead the X-Men one day and… well, you know a lot, right? I was just wondering what I can do to be better.”

“Huh. The professor is setting the standard high for ya, can’t say I disagree. ‘Specially if you end up anything like the webhead. Naw, advice I can give ya for that,” Logan says, looking over his shoulder, “Get stronger.”

“What?”

“Simple, you ain’t grown into your powers yet, hav’ ya? Get comfortable with them. Develop. Once you know what ya can’t do, kid, that’s when you get others to help. Responsibility and accountability. Balance your responsibilities, hold yourself accountable, and people’ll listen. Unless you poke ‘em too hard. Then they leave ya.”

“...Why does everyone keep telling me that?”

“‘Cause it’s good advice.”

“...Right…” Peter mutters, almost bumping into the man as he stops abruptly outside a door. Watching as the man scans something against it, he watches as, what he thought was one, the doors slide open, parting as the sounds of fighting fill the air. Looking into the room, Peter sees a blur of colourful lights and movements. A series of what looks like fireworks sparking against the side of a creature.

Stumbling forward as he’s pushed into the room, Peter watches as the simulation dissolves, the people who were fighting stepping back as they pant lightly. Seeing the flickering boy, his body seemingly coated in some black ooze that flickers off to reveal the bronze skin and clothes underneath. Standing next to him, a girl lifts her goggles, firework-like sparkles flittering out of existence around her hands as she rests a hand on her hip. The familiar forms of Illyana and Kitty turn around, waving towards Peter, when a sharp, piercing sensation captures the boy's attention. Snapping around as he flips, he barely manages to avoid the small, charging girl who barrels into the side of Logan.

“Papa!”

“Alright, kid. Calm down, would you, Gabby?”

“Eh~ but I don’t wanna!” the feral girl whines, pulling back to look up at her, apparently, father.

“I ain’t here for fun, Kiddo. I brought Boy Scout 2.0,” Logan grumbles, rubbing the girl's head. In the distance, Peter hears snickering, eyes flicking to the two girls he made breakfast for. 

“Huh? Boy Scout 2.0? Whose… Oh. I see it. I mean the green glasses kinda throw the look off but-”

“Alright, team. Enough idle chatter. We’re going to continue with the combat training,” Scott interrupts, walking through the room, “Now, as you know, this isn’t the entirety of the younger generation, but because of everyone's unique abilities, we separate classes,” he continues, ignoring the eye rolls and murmurs from the other teens in the room, “Now, I’m reiterating this because we have a new student for the day, Peter. Go ahead.”

“Oh, right. So, my name’s Peter Parker. I was bitten by a spider, which… well, the simple version is I have spider powers. Yes, I’m Arachkid.”

“Now it makes sense,” the girl with the goggles mentions, “He’s also field tested.”

“Yep! And he’s an excellent cook!”

“...And why do you know that, Kitty?”

“Breakfast.”

“...I’m not going to even try and understand that.”

“It is true, though. He makes excellent, what did you call them? Ah, Wheatcakes. It is apparently his Aunt’s recipe.”

“Wait, you- Okay. Nope. The guys apparently just like that,” the bronze-skinned man sighs, running a hand through his hair as he looks at the floor.

“Don’t worry, Bobby, I still think you’re cool.”

“I’m not sure if that counts, Jubi. You are my girlfriend and all.”

Peter hears the small girl hugging Logan fake a retch, turning to look at her as she sticks out her tongue in defiance. Raising an eyebrow at the gesture, he looks around the room. Multiple projectors mixed with insulated panelling. Hard light simulations. Technically able to hurt, but not enough to kill… probably.

“So, what are we doing?”

“That’s a good point. Since everyone else has already started with combat training, how about you get warmed up with Logan here.”

“Seriously, Bub? I didn’t agree to-”

“But you did agree to be a teacher. This is part of your job now.”

Baring his teeth, a low grumble ripples through Logan’s throat before he sighs, “Fine, but don’t blame me if somethin’ goes wrong.”

“Oh… OH, this is actually happening?!” Peter mentions, leaping back as he puts distance between himself and the man, the shining silver coloured claws tearing through the gaps in Wolverine’s knuckles.

“Did’ya think he was joking?”

“Kinda! I mean, sure, I’ve worked with Spider-Man but-” 

Twisting as he slides under the surprisingly quick strike of the man, the claws breezing through the air above him, Peter pushes himself towards the ceiling. Firing a pair of webs to each wall, he hangs from the webline, looking down. 

“Hmph. Spider tricks.”

“Well, I mean, there’s also some risks with touching this, but-”

“Don’t care, kid. Don’t keep holding back for my sake. I can take a punch.”

“...Alright.”

Ignoring the buzzing in his mind, Peter breathes in, concentrating on the man in front of him. Not the gazes of those watching. Even if they’re talking, making notes, cheering or whistling in awe. No. Treat them like civilians. This isn’t Wolverine. This isn’t a hero. This isn’t the time to hesitate. Pressure. Perform. Accountability. Responsibility. Move.

Leaping down, Peter twirls, eyes closing before blinking open. Heavy. Slow. Why is he that- No. Focus. Closer. Firing a web towards the movement of Wolverine's claws, Peter pulls, yanking the man off balance and landing a kick to his head. Continuing to press the attack forward as the man staggers, Peter throws up his left arm, blocking an arm before jabbing forward. 

“Not bad, Kid. Think you got an interesting instinct there. Must be that Spider-Sense jumbo. But ya got a weakness.”

Frowning at the words, Peter continues to attack. His fists and feet are slowly missing the man or being blocked and parried out of the way. Frowning, he continues. The jabs and hooks that he was landing before failing to connect when he is suddenly uppercutted and sent flying backwards. Flipping and pushing off the ground as he lands, spinning on his feet as he looks around. What just happened? How did his Spider-Sense not warn him about that?

“That’s enough! You did really well, Peter. I think we can-”

“Hold it, Boy Scout. I’m teaching him.”

“What? I thought-”

“The kid's instincts need work. I’m the best one for that. ‘Sides, thought you wanted me to be a ‘better teacher’ for the kids.”

“I mean-”

“Relax. I’ll let you train him during the regular sessions, but I need to teach him how to control those senses. If he gets mad, he could… Well, I don’t wanna see the kid cause a blood bath.”

Blinking behind the ruby quartz lenses of his glasses, Scott clears his throat. Walking over a panel on the side of the room. Watching as the rest of the teenagers begin to walk into the center of the room, Logan moving to follow the taller man, Peter looks at the group nervously.

“Nice job, Pete! The only person that the grumpy old man normally trains is Gabby. You must have really impressed him!”

“Uh, thanks?”

“Why do you sound so unsure of yourself?”

“Because I’m confused about what’s happening.”

“We’re mutants, Peter,” Bobby says, patting him on the back, “Got to be ready for anything.”

“Wait-”

“Yep, Yep! Plus, we’re the ‘experienced group’, so you know how this goes!” Gabby says, hands behind her back as she hops from side to side. Watching as the room begins to hum with energy, Peter groans, the flickering of lights turning into a cascade of lights. The battlefield hums to life with the form of a Sentinel, a towering behemoth that seems to crush everything below it.

“So, remember! This is about teamwork! Work together and you should be able to take it down!”

“Seriously?!”

“Hey, we only have to do this on Fridays.”

“And how many times have you won?”

“None.”

Groaning, Peter stands up, looking at the imposing mechanical monstrosity before him. Clicking his tongue as he devises a plan, he looks around the group. The various states of his sudden teammates preparing for combat are evident. A sword, fireworks, claws, glowing black. 

“Alright, so, I think I have a plan.”

“Right?”

“But I have no clue what any of you can do, so can you improvise?”

“Sure. Want us to just follow you’re lead?”

“Please! So, I’m gonna do a Star Wars thing!”

“Wait, what?!”

Firing a web as he flies towards the construct, Peter continues spraying webs around the hologram's legs. Continuing to circle the creature, he watches as his teammates begin to run at the Sentinel. Pulling the line taught, he waits, feeling the heavy thud of the Sentinel being punched or slashed towards the ground as he grits his teeth and swings, pulling in the opposite direction of the impact as it hits the floor with a heavy thud.

“Oh, shit! That worked!”

“Talk later, finish it off first!”

“Right!” the voices of the team echo back. Slashing, punching, kicking, and blasting the creature with energy, the teens slowly batter the thing into the ground, its metallic exterior cracked wide open. Panting as they pull apart the wires inside the robot, the group lets out a gleeful cheer as they collapse against the floor.

“Congratulations! You’ve managed to beat Level 1!” Scott’s voice sings out.

“Now, you’re moving on to Level 2, Kiddo’s. Prepare yourself.”

“Wait, Level 2?” Peter mumbles, looking around the room as he notices the shimmering form of the two more Sentinels appearing. Staggering to his feet, silently reminding himself of the Spider-Man mantra of never staying down, Peter raises his fists.

This is going to be one hell of a day.

Chapter Text

Level 3. Considering that the Sentinel holograms, or at least Peter thinks they’re holograms, even if they definitely don’t hit like they’re holograms or hard light, are basically as strong as the real things, that’s not too bad. Not to mention the adaptability they have. The fact that the X-Men have won against hordes of those Sentinels. But, hey. They managed to beat four of the seven… Which, apparently, the others hadn’t before he arrived. How that is possible, Peter has no clue, especially with how powerful they are. Maybe it’s a cruel twist of fate.

Panting as he hears the shuffling of feet above him, the boy flips onto his feet, the weight of his body making him stumble into the landing. Looking towards the noise, he begins helping his new teammates to their feet as he looks at Logan and Scott as they argue with each other over the results. 

“...I’m tellin’ ya, Boy Scott, they need actual combat!”

“And I’m saying they’re not ready!”

“Then will they be?! When you’re two feet in the grave, ‘cause we can arrange that,” the man growls, his claws extending from his knuckles as he eyes up the man.

“Whoa! Hey, hey, hey! Same team here!” Peter yells, only realising he’s already standing between the pair when his hands are placed on their chests. Mentally, stringing a series of curses to himself at his interference, “Look, I won’t pretend to know what’s going on, but maybe stabbing or shooting each other with lasers isn’t the way to do things?”

Carefully watching the pair stare at each other, glancing at Peter before taking deep breaths in. The two relax, the faint glow that Peter only just realised was emitting behind the shades of the larger man dimming and the claws slinking back into the other man’s hands.

“Right. Look, I appreciate that you think they need practical experience, but I don’t think they’re ready.”

“...M’kay. I just thought… Well, we could take one or two of them on a mission with us. So they get a better feel for working as an X-Man.”

“Oh… Well, that doesn’t sound as bad as I thought you meant.”

“...I’ll let you chat to Xavier and see what he thinks,” Logan mumbles, stepping towards the door to the Danger Room and pressing a series of buttons. The steel frames shudder and part, the man passing through them, leaving the group in quiet contemplation as they look towards the leader of the X-Men.

“...Right! Sorry, you all had to see that, and thank you, Peter, for intervening- Wait, you shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Why not? I can handle myself if something happened.”

“That’s… not the point. Jesus, you are a young me,” the man mumbles under his breath before brightening up to address the class, “Alright, so that was better than before. I want you guys to spend the rest of today discussing what you think went well and what you can improve on. Class dismissed!”

Watching as the man turns on his heel and walks out of the room, inputting the same series of numbers into the keypad. The doors hiss open, and the man disappears outside, leaving the teenagers alone in the room.

“Well, that seems like a little too much… freedom? Unsupervised teenagers?”

“Eh, you get used to it,” Jubilee says, stretching as she walks towards a door in the corner of the room.

“They’re not always perfect, but are any of us?” Roberto says as he heads towards a different door, slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulder and steering him in the same direction.

“That’s… a fair point. So, what are we doing now?”

“Washing up, debrief, argue. X-Men type shit.”

“Well, that’s a lot to digest. Wait, washing up? I don’t have any-”

“It’s fine. I’ve got some for you, or I can go to your room and grab some clothes for you.” 

Walking into the door, the pair are greeted with a sterile locker room. A series of stalls lined with what looks like a standardised body wash fill the rooms. Catching a set of clothes thrown at him, Peter raises an eyebrow as he watches the bronze-skinned boy as he steps into one of the showers. Listening to the sound of water running fills the empty room as Peter walks into one of the other shower stalls.

“Oh, thanks. Do you always carry around a second set of clothes?”

“No, but Scott asked me to grab some of your clothes from your room.”

“You went into my room?”

“Look, this house has basically no privacy. You get used to it.”

Groaning as he begins picking through his clothes, giving himself a quick wash in the shower, Peter pulls on his shirt and trousers. Hands wrapping around the bundle of dirty clothes, Peter makes a mental note to thank Aunt May for washing them when he gets home.

“BTW’s, I saw you have a Mary Jane’s Shirt. You a fan?”

“Kinda. It’s more because MJ is my childhood friend, so I try to show up to support her and my friends.”

“Whoa, wait, hang on. You know them?!”

“Yeah? Oh! Wait, are you Sunspot?!”

“You know who I am?!”

“Yeah! Well, kinda! Ms Grey told me about how you and Jubilee are fans of them, so I was planning on trying to talk to the two of you about it.”

“You’re going to be my best friend.”

“What?”

“Dude, I love ‘The Mary Janes’ so if you’re my new best friend…” 

Peter scoffs, the unspoken words hanging in the air as an empty promise. At least he’d have one friend if he chose to come here. Yeah. That’s right. He’s still just testing out this insane new school, and sure, it’s been fun, but is the education right for what he wants?

“D’ya mind if I ask you some things about the school?”

“Shoot. Metaphorically. Not your webs, please.”

“So, I… haven’t officially joined this school and… well, I… I want to be a scientist.”

“Whoa, okay. So, you’re wondering how good the education is?” 

“Yeah. You seem like you’d know that sort of thing.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong… I wouldn’t say it’s a bad education, but you’ll probably be limited if you want to go to college.”

“Right… because it shows everyone you’re a mutant.”

“Exactly. If you want to go the college route, you’ll then have to find someone who can work with you… Well, it’s not impossible, though. I mean, look at Hank. If you’re able to keep your mutation under wraps and explain to the Professor about wanting to go to college, he’ll make sure you’re education isn’t labelled as the school.”

“Okay… So, what about the classes?”

“Eh, standard high school, middle school and whatever. Depends on your level, really. Mainly, we get taught by the older X-Men and self-study to pass the national exams.”

“Visiting?”

“You can go see family on weekends, but, obviously, most of us aren’t fans of our families or they aren’t fans of us.”

Peter hums as he thinks over the structure of the school. It’s relaxed. Maybe too relaxed, but that kinda makes sense when you’re in a school full of super-powered kids. The fact that this school's education is… non-linear, for lack of a better description, isn’t really a problem. Sure, Peter wants to go to college, get a biochemistry, biology, and bioengineering PhD, but that’s not necessarily a problem. Hank has proven it’s possible to pursue science as a mutant. Heck, the world has kind of been moving in that way in recent years. Not to mention, there don’t seem to be many problems with getting a college education, he can explore his powers. No, there are too many benefits to attending this school. But exploring the rest of the school comes first.

Hearing the water turn off and Bobby walking out of the stall, Peter turns to look at the boy. Watching as the tanned teen pulls a shirt over his lean frame. Wondering internally if he could ever look like that. That’s another benefit. Food. 

“So, we need to have a discussion next? About what went wrong, right?”

“Yep. The girls will probably have started without us, like normal. You’ll get used to that as well.”

“Right…,” Peter responds as they leave the changing room, Bobby pushing in a code to the number pad. 4021. Peter makes a mental note of the number, filing it away as he follows Bobby back through the corridor towards what he remembers is the common room. The sound of a heated debate, a few Russian words flung into the conversation, or more often, curses that go unnoticed.

“...the problem was that you didn’t create any space! I needed to get behind the Sentinels to do something, you know, since all I can do is slip between things!”

“So you wanted me to, what, cut open a hole to Limbo and pull the enemies towards it?! Гавно! I thought you were smarter than this, Kitty.”

“I mean, you coulda also portaled us out of the way, right?”

“Don’t get me started, Gabby. You should have been front and centre, taking the hits like a true Wolverine.”

“I’m Honey Badger ! Or Scout! I can’t take the same hits as my dad!”

“Ah, yes, because Papa Logan is the prime example of what you can do. пиздец.”

“Well, on the plus side, we did do better than we ever have before.”

“Not that your sparklers helped, Jubi. What was with that anyway? Normally, they’re more explosive and powerful.”

“I was trying to restrain myself so it would work with the newbie!”

“Oh, please. I bet you could have-”

Coughing into his hand, Bobby walks over to the couches, the girls spread across the common space, deceptively calm despite the argument they were clearly having. Peter is slightly terrified. Sure, he’s had a couple of friends he would argue with like this, but… this is different. He can’t help but feel a little scared of what’s about to happen.

“Alright, alright. So what have we discussed so far?”

“Not much. Just that we had an apparent lack of ‘space’ and ‘defence’ to keep beating them.”

Shuffling onto the floor, drawing a few strange looks from the rest of the teens, Peter sits down, tilting his head. He hums to himself as he mentally recalls the battle, his eyes narrow, and his brain reruns the fight as he thinks about the situation. 

“Hmm… Okay, so there were some problems with space management. Like in Level 2, we had the ability to separate the Sentinels from each other, but instead, we accidentally drew them together, which tired us out quicker. That being said, I don’t really know what you can all do, so the only way to improve is to… well, talk.”

“You can remember what was happening?”

“Roughly. It helps because it’s fresh, though. Actually, do we have a whiteboard? Chalkboard? Just something that we can write on,” Peter asks, looking at the faces of the young mutants as they look at each other.

“I think Classroom 3 should be free right now.”

“Yeah, Beast should be doing people's physicals instead.”

“Oh, joy. We’re going to spend our debriefing time in a classroom…”

Rolling his eyes as he follows Jubilee, the rest of the mutants in tow, the group slowly roam the halls. The dark wood bounces the near-soundless movements of the group, echoing through the halls as their shoes clip the wooden floors. Walking into the room that Bobby is holding open, Peter vaults a desk, grabbing the chalk as he begins to draw out three diagrams: aerial, front and side views of the Level 2 battle.

“So, this is what we were up against, roughly, right? See, I know that my webs are kinda useless against machines, but,” Peter says as he looks around for another board, seeing one on wheels that he grabs, about to erase the equation before thinking better of it and flipping it over, “My webs contain a paralytic neurotoxin so I was also trying to avoid hitting any of you. Uh, also, my powers are, well, super strength, balance, agility, speed, etc., etc., etc. But I don’t know how to do more than what I was doing yet. I’m going to try and be better, but… well, for now, I need your help, and that’s going to simply be a matter of figuring out what you guys can do,” Peter finishes saying, clicking the cap back on the marker. The list of his abilities is written under his name as he holds the pen out for someone else.

“Alright, Arachkid,” Kitty says, smirking as she grabs the pen, writing her name next to Peter’s, “Let’s talk mutations. For me, I can phase through things by changing my density.”

“Stepping Discs. Simple portals to move between places and locations. Also, I have my Soulsword.”

“Same as my Dad!”

“Fireworks.”

“I absorb sunlight, which I can then use as blasts or to fly or both.”#

Writing down the powers under his teammate's names, Peter scratches his chin. There are a lot of diverse abilities, at least. Now, what’s the best way for Peter to organise them all? There’s a lot of manoeuvrability in the team. The problem is that there might not be enough firepower until they get stronger… or develop new abilities. That’s going to be the main issue.

“So, Illyana, Bobby and Jubilee are kind of our heavy hitters. Since the Sentinels have the ability to adapt to damage types, or some of the Sentinels do, we need to be able to change things on the fly.”

“Yes, we understand that, but how do we improve, Parker?”

“Well, what’s the difference between the previous attempts and this one?”

“You?” Gabby asks, tilting her head in confusion.

“Yes and no. I think it’s crowd control. I should have realised it, honestly, during the fight…” Peter mumbles, only half aware of the inquisitive looks on the faces of the other teens, “Basically, because you let me set the tempo and I took the initiative in attacking and creating opportunities, we managed to take out the four Sentinels up until level 3.”

“Which means?” Jubilee asks, absentmindedly twisting a finger around a loose thread and plucking it free from Bobby’s shirt.

“Pretty sure Peter believes he is the key to our plans.”

“But we already know the ‘Me. Me. Me.’, plans don’t work!” Gabby exclaims.

Peter pauses, biting his tongue before reassessing what he was about to say, “I was going to say that it’s up to me to make up the distance and timings between us and the enemies, but I’ve been told that it’s a bad habit to put everything on me…”

“Well, that’s one step forward. What do we do instead?” Kitty asks, rolling her eyes as she talks.

“Simple, I think we get everyone to focus on one of the Sentinels at a time, whilst you and I work on distracting the rest.”

“You want to take Kitty to distract the Sentinels?”

“Hey!”

“Look, I get it. She isn’t the strongest physically,” Peter says, holding a hand up to silence the girl before she can protest, “ But she is probably the smartest. Besides, I noticed that she can also phase objects she’s touching.” Ignoring the smug look on Kitty’s face, Peter waits for the rest of the group to think about his suggestion.

“Let me get this straight, you think the best way for us to get to higher levels is to… rely on you and Kitty being annoying to the Sentinels?”

“Pretty much.”

“And if they adapt to Kitty’s phasing technique?”

“Then I step in. Look, we can only do so much as individuals, but if we can create attack patterns, we should be able to beat these things!”

“Right, and-”

The door to the room slams open, and a brunette woman with a white streak down the front of her hair appraises the teens. Her heels click as she walks in the room towards the board, Peter tenses, recognising the woman as she looks at the board.

“Now, what are y’all up to in here? Makin’ plans suga?” Rogue asks, eyes flicking between the kids.

“Sorry, Miss Rogue, we thought we could-” Kitty begins to say as she starts towards the board, getting ready to erase the information before the older woman's gloved hand stops her.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I just wanna know whatcha thinkin’. Also, don’t call me Miss, suga. It makes me feel old despite only being 19.”

“Right… So, uh, we were just discussing attack patterns and-”

“Oh, attack patterns, is it? Well, that’s mighty confident of ya’. What makes you guys and gals think you’re ready for that?”

“We got to Level 3.”

“Oh my. I guess as one of your… educators, I should help you out, huh.”

“Um, Rogue? Why are you helping us? You’ve never-”

“Isn’t it obvious, Bobby?” Illyana asks, rolling her eyes as she points at Peter, “She wanted to see if Peter actually looks like Scott.”

“Well, I will admit that is partly true. That and I’m interested in what our new little spider friend can tell me about the man under the webbed mask. Is he as charming as they say?”

“Uh… I… I can’t say,” Peter mutters, trying not to look at the faces of the people looking at him expectantly, “It’s Spider-Code. We don’t share each other's secret identities.”

“Then ain’t that a problem in a house fulla mutants with telepathic abilities, suga?”

“Not when… Okay, my powers have some kind of telepathic shield, alright. Basically, my mutation creates a psychic shield.” 

“Well, I’ll be. I guess I can help y’all with your attack patterns, maybe give ya some of the ‘official’ X-Men fightin’ style.”

“Oh! That would be great! How do you guys normally do things?!”

Smirking as she sits on the desk, Rogue leans forward conspiratorially, whispering, “Pairs.”

“Pairs? That’s it?”

“That’s it, suga. Ya find someone who can complement ya, or cover ya weaknesses, ‘nd then you work with ‘em. It’s even better if ya know ‘em well.”

Looking around the group, the teens exchange a series of raised eyebrows at the remark. Even Peter can tell the others think that it’s a bit of a long shot. Also, how does that work? Is it just working in smaller groups? It would lessen the teamwork needed for the fights… 

“Ya’ll don’t seem to understand. It’s pretty simple. Ya get to know someone and their tendencies, and then work around them. Once you grow into ya powers, you might be able to handle the Sentinels alone.”

“Huh…”

Getting up from the desk, Rogue smiles, placing a hand on the board, “So, whilst this is all well and good, I’d suggest ya’ll just get to know each other before next Friday, yeah?”

Next Friday… Wait, will Peter even be here? Losing himself in his thoughts, he barely registers the woman leaving the room. He’s been so caught up with just being here that he’s forgotten that this is just a trial. A test run to see if he wants to commit to being at this school. It is incredible, exceptional even, but Peter can’t help but start asking questions to himself. The one, pounding, headache-inducing thought that leans at the front of his mind.

What does Peter want?

And for that question, he doesn’t have an answer.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day was a blur of exercise courses and classes. Math and Science with Hank were fun, although Peter did notice that a lot of the kids zoned out during the class. This was probably because Hank kept going off on tangents and getting too technical with the scientific terms, not that it was a problem for Peter. 

“What is a problem is making a decision,” Peter mutters to himself as he looks at the ceiling of what could be his room, “This place was incredible, no doubt about that, but…” the boy sighs, sitting up as he looks out the window. 

Standing up and walking over to the window, Peter looks at the stars that line the edges of the forest that encircles the school. It’s too loud. Not the school. The voices in his head. There’s just too much going on in his head to concentrate. He needs to move. To be out there doing something . 

Looking at his backpack, Peter fumbles into the bag, pulling out the one thing he feels he needs the most right now. His Arachkid suit. Giving the black and green a sniff before humming. It smells a little of sweat. Not a huge amount, though. He could probably mask it with his deodorant. Spraying the suit with the scent, Peter slips into the suit and quietly opens the window. 

“Now, when I got here, Kitty and Illyana were being scolded for sneaking out… So, either someone has a mutation that can keep track of everyone in the building, or there's some kind of security trip on the floor… Roof, launch and glide?”

Jumping as he grabs the top of the window, he flips to the side of the building, listening for any sign that someone has seen or noticed he left his room. Quietly closing the windows, Peter crawls up the stone cobbles to the roof of the building, looking for something he can use as a catapult. Spotting two of the steeples of the building, Peter quickly thwips out his webs as he looks at the map in his mask glowing in the direction of Manhattan. Leaning back as he feels the snapping ping of the webs going taunt, Peter lets go, launching himself through the air.

Pulling himself together, he slips his hands into the folds of his web wings, yanking them open as he glides through the night air. His lungs fill with the cold, forest-scented air of the night, the journey to the city that never sleeps, a cool, refreshing wave of calm that envelops him.

The hour and a half of careful gliding and swinging passes quickly, Peter’s mind feeling calm as he sees the glowing lights of New York as he enters the Bronx. The familiar hum and thrum of the world beneath him steadies his breathing. He didn’t realise, but his breathing was erratic. Uncontrolled. Sure, he’s able to get out of breath with exertion, but… He’s not really been doing enough on the journey here to have that happen to him. 

“Okay… so, some kind of panic attack? No… I don’t have a reason to be panicking… right?” he mutters to himself as he flips into Harlem and lands on the roof of one of the buildings.

Taking a deep breath in, he looks at the city. Why did he want to come here? To talk to Ben? To May? Miles or Ganke? Who knows. For now, Peter’s going to just look for trouble. Something to do whilst he figures out who he wants to talk to. Flicking himself through the city, the steady thwipping noise of his webs ringing out through the city.

“Get stronger. Practice. Evolve. Hunt.”

Hearing a scream from somewhere near the Museum of New York, the boy quickly spins into a 320 before swinging in the direction of the noise. A familiar silhouette moving across the roof of the building as she twirls and avoids the attacks of… Is that a guy dressed as a Pharaoh?! Of course, today is the day he’ll be facing a magic user… Miles did say that fighting against sorcerers is a pain. The blonde man with blue eyes is very lean. Honestly, it surprises him a little. He figured that most sorcerers wouldn’t wear such flashy clothes.

But that’s not the only annoying thing. It’s fricken Black Cat. The distinct, black and purple suit, with the white fur lining the suit, stands out like a flashlight. Simply because she got away. That’s not the point right now. No, Peter’s a hero. He needs to help. Well, unless she’s stealing something. 

Slowly twirling into the air, Peter aims his webs towards the rooftop of the museum. Yanking himself forward, he watches the man startle, before swinging a kick under the man's leg, before flipping to shoot a web towards the man to try and pin him down, but missing. 

“Arachkid?!”

“Cat. Wanna explain the situation?”

“Not really, but if I can get you to help me, I will,” Black Cat says, sauntering over as she goes to reach for Peter, the boy moving out of the way before she can touch him. Sighing, she pouts lightly, “Look, I might have been planning a heist here, but before I could this bozo decided he’d steal my show!”

“And up the VFX, apparently. Look, I don’t want to restrain you, but if you help me take this guy down and promise not to rob the Museum, then I’ll let this slide.”

“Ooo~ Don’t threaten me with a good time, A~rach~kid!” the woman says, blowing a kiss at Peter, the boy remaining stonefaced at the interaction, making her pout, “Fine, fine. I’ll be a good kitty today.”

“Are you two done talking?! The great Salqu-Neter is ready to kill you!” the man says, raising his staff, a horde of what appears to be frost-wrapped mummified bodies rising from the rooftop.

Tilting his head, Peter looks at the man, his mask eyes flicking as he raises his eyebrow, “Bit egotistical, calling yourself an Ice God.” 

“That’s what that means? I’ve been trying to figure it out for the last couple of minutes.”

“Especially considering he’s as white as a ghost…”

“I prefer as white as ICE!” the man yells, the mummies surging forwards, slowly swinging their fists towards the pair as they weave and dodge out of the way of the attacks.

“Hey! This guy's got jokes too!”

“Great, so he’s just like the big Spider.”

“What about me?!”

“Eh, you’re less.”

“Rude!”

Twisting and flipping, Peter spins on the palm of his hand, landing spinning kicks that send the frost walkers shattering against the concrete. His eyes track Black Cat as she flips and turns, bending around the attacks in ways that make him question if her flexibility is superhuman or not. The woman looks towards the boy, smirking and blowing a kiss towards him as she kicks one of the mummies into another one. Skidding across the floor, she wraps a whip around the pair of summoned creatures' legs before pulling them to the floor, shattering them against the rooftop.

“Can’t keep your eyes off me, aye, Itsy Bitsy?”

Rolling his eyes, Peter fires a webline at one of the moving sculptures and yanks it into some of the others, the sound of cascading ice shattering and falling against the floor filling the air, “More like trying to make sure you ain’t gonna run off.”

“Oh, please. I saw you admiring my curves and moves.”

“...I will admit I am impressed with your flexibili-”

“STOP FLIRTING IN FRONT OF YOUR GOD!” the man calling himself Salqu-Neter yells, a series of large icicles appearing in the sky around him. Groaning Peter looks around, making a plan for stopping the icicles from causing too much damage.

“Cat, can you keep handling these mummies? Thanks,” he responds, ignoring the girl as she starts to complain. Spinning, Peter begins to fire lines of webs connecting the icicles to the structure in what could be an attempt at modern art. He can’t help but hum, thinking that Colossus would be proud of this art display. He’ll have to take a picture of it before he… Well, is he even going to- Not the time to get distracted.

Using the newly created path, catching and holding the icicles in place with his webs, which Peter is noticing is freezing them slightly, something to study later maybe, he continues charging and zipping towards the… frost pharaoh guy? That’s a better name than calling him the ‘Ice God’.

“Look, Frost Pharaoh, can I call you Frost Pharaoh? I’m gonna call you Frost Pharaoh. Nobody likes the cold. Unless it’s summer, but it’s the midde of frickin’ winter dude!”

“Which is why it’s perfect! The cold shall bite you, as will my servants, for I am no mere pharaoh! I AM THE-” 

“Salqu-Neter. We know,” the two other people on the rooftop retort, both groaning at the man's exaggeration.

“You know, historically speaking, pharaohs were seen as aspects of the gods. I think it could-”

“SILENCE, MORTAL!”

“Jesus, this guy is conceded,” Peter mutters as he flips and catches a chunk of ice and throws it at the sorcerer. The shattering of ice fills the air, the small globules of ice from the larger chunk freeze, spinning in place before firing like razor blades as they cut towards Arachkid.

Inhaling sharply as he dances around the attack, the boy grits his teeth, feeling the ice cutting through his suit and into his arms and legs. Luckily, he managed to avoid the attack hitting his vitals. He does wonder if this is what he’s meant to train. His Spider-Sense. It would definitely help if he could sense things like that. Huh. Maybe this is what Wolverine was telling him to learn…

“You good, Arachkid?! Need a hand?”

“I’m good! Just focus on the mummies.”

“Yeah, yeah… geez, treating me like a kid…” Black Cat mutters, spinning as she kicks a frost walker in the face.

Rolling his eyes under the mask, Peter leaps, swinging around the rooftop as he tries to find an opening in Frost Pharaoh’s defence. The white-blue arcane sigils leaking from the staff in the man’s fans hum with a cold pulse. Ice and snow fill the air, the man’s chanting becoming fervent as he summons more ice onto the rooftop. But he is panting quite heavily now. Almost like he’s overexerting himself, that’s good. There will be an opening soon. Probably.

Continuing his dodging, catching and throwing of the ice and the mummies at the man, Peter waits. Patiently. His eyes never leave the man, watching, waiting for the moment he makes a mistake. The strange, tingling sensation in the back of his mind hums and sharpens, his senses feeling alive and buzzing with intent and intensity. 

STALK.

HUNT.

KILL.

Kill? What was- 

Peter's eyes catch the man, lowering the staff, the flickering light of his arcane wards fading slightly. Flicking his wrists forward, he yanks himself at the villain, watching as his eyes widen, the Frost Pharaoh’s arms raise, trying to form a shield. The sound of shattering glass rings out, the failed arcane barrier shatters as his fist connects with the man's face. Spinning and swinging around the man, Peter continues to dart around the man, hitting with small strikes, not letting the pale man prepare any spells. Leg, arm, other leg, chest, side. Each point is carefully, precisely and methodically struck as he tries to disable the man.

“ENOUGH!” the man yells, his voice cracking as he unleashes a torrent of ice-laced wind, the shards blowing Peter back as he flips onto his hands and looks at the man. Looking around, he hums and nods in approval as he notices the distinct lack of ice monsters on the rooftop, “I WILL END YOU BOTH!”

“Hmm… I’m not so sure about that, buddy. It looks like my little spider here has tired you out.”

“ You’re little spider?!”

“Ignore him. So, I think it’s about time you give up that staff for us, yeah?”

“What are you on about?!”

“I WILL NOT RELINQUISH MY STAFF TO A PETTY MORTAL! I, AM, THE, GREAT, SALQU-NETER!”

“So, is no one going to listen to me?”

“And I’m the great Black Cat. Doesn’t mean anything, dude.”

“Right. So, we’re ignoring me. Great.”

“YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A COWARDLY THIEF, HIDING BEHIND THE AVATAR OF A GOD! YOU, ARE, NOTHING! ”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m so scared . Not.”

“Wait, Avatar of a God? What do you-”

“DIE!” the man screams, cutting Peter off as he throws a large clump of ice at the pair on the rooftop. Catching the ice, the boy grunts, spinning as he launches the ice back towards the man. Frowning as he watches the ice freeze in place, slowly forming into a large, heavy monster.

“Ice Golem?”

“Looks like it. Wanna split the fun, spider?”

“...We’re going to be talking after this.”

“Oooo~ Wanna get my number or something? Too bad! I won’t give it to you!” 

“I TOLD YOU TO STOP FLIRTING IN FRONT OF ME!” the man screams from inside the Ice Golem. That's… new. He didn’t see the man melting into the monstrosity. It does make a little more sense to pilot the thing, but Peter can’t help but think that the guy is taking inspiration from Super Sentai or Power Rangers …

“So, I actually just got some experience with beating giant monsters. I was in my last 101 class!”

“Oh, yeah, Arachkid? What’s the secret?” Black Cat purrs, stretching as the claws on her gloves extend out.

“Have you ever watched Star Wars ?”

“...AT-AT on Hoth?”

“Looks like you’re also a nerd.”

“Shut up! It’s just because my ex was obsessed with the series and-”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Ms. Cat.”

“And here I thought that you weren’t as quippy as Spider-Man…”

“Yeesh someone's-”

“STOP IGNORING ME!” the ice man screams, slamming his fist toward the pair, Peter creating a line of webbing to lessen the damage to the building. Wrapping his webs around the construct's arms, Peter pulls, kicking the fist back towards the mans face, watching as he staggers back.

“So, I’ll make a net, you have something that can make him fall, or do you want me to make you something?”

“Oh, please. I can make this little guy melt, no sweat.”

“...Was that meant to be a double entendre?”

“Shut up and work, spider.”

“Shutting up!” Peter shouts, flipping out of the way of another attack and catching it with his webs. Slowly, he starts weaving, pulling threads together in an intricate lace around the rooftop, his mind spinning reinforced patterns as he looks to create a springtrap net on the rooftop. 

Leaping back onto the raised ground above the net, Peter nods in satisfaction, whistling as he watches Black Cat flip and twirl around the slamming fists and feet of the ice monster, which pummels the rooftop around her. He winces in slight annoyance, disappointed in the fact that he can’t completely save the museum from needing repairs. 

He also wonders what he’s going to need to do with that staff. Scepter? Whatever it is, it’s giving this guy magical powers. Or is it? Eh, doesn’t really matter. Maybe he’ll get to meet Doctor Strange. That would be cool. 

Humming as he watches Black Cat’s eyes glow faintly, he sees the Frost Pharoh in his ice mausoleum trip over… the air? Huh… that’s weird. Does she have… Well, he can ask her after they’re done with this, right? Hearing the snap as the webs envelop and wrap around the golem, Peter smirks as he sees the man's face twist in confusion as he realises he can’t move.

“Fun fact about my webs and your ice. The webs freeze to the ice, which means that even if you can control ice, the tensile strength and reinforced nature of the ice webs make it basically as strong as concrete.”

“DAMN YOU! YOU DARE RESTRAIN A-” the man begins saying before a glob of web seals his mouth shut. The Frost Pharaoh’s eyes widen as his body freezes solid. Walking over, Peter grabs the staff and easily yanks it free from the ice coffin. 

“I’ve heard enough about that. Anyways, I’ll let Doctor Strange know you sent your regards! Oh, also, I’ve left a note for the police and fire department, they’ll come grab you soon.”

“Ta-ta, little Pharoah,” Black Cat purrs, blowing a kiss at the man as she steps off the rooftop. Saluting as he leaps backwards, Peter follows the girl. He’s not sure where they’re heading, but he does know he needs to have a talk with her either way. Seeing her land on the rooftop of a building three blocks away, Peter lands next to her, hand absentmindedly twirling the staff in his hand.

“So… Felicia.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” the girl sighs, looking over her shoulder at him as she kicks the first, “You’re Peter, right?”

“...”

“I’ll take that as a yes. So, if that’s everything…” she says, starting to walk towards the edge of the building. Before she can leap off the building, Peter grabs her wrist, pulling her back from the edge.

“No, I… Look, I don’t know why you’re doing what you’re doing, but you could fight for good. You did well today.”

“Oh, geez, thanks, rookie,” she says, her green eyes glinting as she rolls them, “but I much prefer the adrenaline of stealing stuff and getting away. Besides, what do you know about this whole spiel?”

“Because I’m an X-Men now.” Oh. He just said it. He just said it . And it felt right . Like that’s what he is . What he’s going to be.

“Ah, so you’re a mutant too, huh?”

“So, that’s why your eyes glowed…”

Laughing, the girl sits down on the ledge, patting the ledge next to her. Following her lead, and hiding the staff on the other side of his body, drawing a smirk and a knowing eye roll from the girl next to him.

“I didn’t just call myself Black Cat for no reason. I can give people ‘bad luck’. Basically, by giving myself ‘misfortunes’, like deliberately being caught doing something morally ‘wrong’, which is society-based, I can create a bad luck event of the same level on to someone else I see.”

“So, cause and effect?”

“Cause and effect… Kinda like that.”

“Kind of also makes it like you’re Schrödinger's Cat, right?”

Blinking, the girl tilts her head, considering the point, “Yeah. Yeah, that actually makes a lot of sense. I guess I’m Schrödinger's Black Cat… Yikes, that’s too much of a mouthful.”

“True. So… Were you asked about joining the school?”

“There’s no way my mum would let me join them. She doesn’t even know I’m a mutant, so…”

“She wasn’t there when the Professor came to visit?”

“Nope. I just told them she’d disapprove and that I wasn’t ready to tell her about being a mutant. It was bad enough when she found out that my dad was a thief. The original Black Cat,” she smirks, at the boy's raised eyebrow, “Legacy name.”

“You’d like it. I do. You also have fans there.”

Watching her shiver, Felicia hums, “I don’t think I’d suit the blue and yellow as much as my black and purple. Also, I’m not sure about enjoying being surrounded by my fans… actually, I kinda like that.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just… consider it. I mean, we’ll accept you regardless of whatever happens.”

“No promises, Spider,” the girl says, leaning over the edge of the building, pausing as she clearly decides on something, “But, here's a reward for being so sweet and helping me out.” 

Blinking, Peter’s eyes widen, stumbling backwards on the edge of the roof, feeling Felicia’s hand slip between the seam of his suit and mask, the fabric raising as the cold air kisses his skin. The soft press of a plush set of lips against his own, stuns him as he fumbles like a fish out of water. A soft hum-purr radiates from the girls, watching as she leans back, smirking at the stammering boy before leaping off the roof and disappearing into the night of the city.

“What… huh? Oh, right. Doctor Strange,” Peter says, touching his lips with his glove, the sensation still burning against his lips, a faint trace of lip gloss gracing his fingertips. Leaping from the building and swinging through the city in the direction of Doctor Strange’s Sanctum. 

Oh, and then he needs to get back to the mansion. It’s going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

And that was maybe the most confusing night he’s ever had, but hey, he managed to get the job done. He’s sure that he probably did everything in the correct order, right? After that kiss from Felicia, Peter’s pretty sure he was acting on autopilot, barely paying attention to the streets as he dropped off the staff-sceptre to the Sorcerer Supreme.

Well, more like he taped it to the big window on the top of the building. He was originally planning on pushing it through the post box, but that was too small. You’d think that Doctor Strange would have some kind of enchantment to let people drop off magical items without too many problems, but no. He had to do it the hard way. 

“Well, at least the slightly harder way…” Peter mumbles as he climbs the side of the Empire State Building. His limbs are heavy, and he has to almost drag himself up the building. The collective fatigue from the training earlier in the day and this battle is starting to wear him down. And Miles normally does this for entire days without stopping. He really needs to improve his stamina.

Sighing as he reaches the top of the tower, Peter sits down, looking over the city as he pulls out his phone. Humming to himself, he begins texting his friends. God, he’s going to miss hanging out with all of them, even Flash. And Harry, oh, geez, what does he tell him? No. He knows exactly what to tell him. But he’ll do that in person. 

Hey Harry. Wanna meet up tomorrow? Got something to tell you

Peter sits, staring at the screen as he waits for a response. Not that he should get one. It’s 11:30 pm. Harry is probably aslee-

Yo! I finally heard from you after you started checking out that new school! Sure, I’m free! I’ll leave my questions until tomorrow! See ya Pete!

Thanks, Harry! Meet you at Jumbo Juice?

Jumbo Juice 👍

Sighing as he looks at the message, Peter thumbs through his contacts, wondering who to contact next. His fingers glide over the screen, passing his friends before his thumb lands on JJ’s contact. Oh. Yeah, this might be another person he needs to contact. He probably won’t be awake, though. Plus, he can probably message him after he meets up with Harry. It would let him run some of the ideas past him.

Yawning as he turns off his phone, Peter pushes the device into the pocket of his suit before stretching. Alright, it’s time to go back. Back… home? Is that what he’s calling the place? No, it’s a little weird when Aunt May and Uncle Ben still have a house. Still, he needs some kind of name for the place. House. Yeah. House. Maybe it’ll feel more homely at some point, but at the moment, it’s a house.

Humming as he hits a couple of buttons on his mask, Peter inputs his destination, looking at the trailing lights flickering into the lenses of his mask. Grunting, he lifts himself from his resting spot, pushing his arms into the web wings. Peter pulls them free, falling off the building as he lets the wind currents catch him. Just an hour. Just an hour and he can collapse into his bed. Yeah. He needs to sleep.

The hazed blur of a trip back to the X-Men mansion is long. Honestly, Peter’s pretty sure he’s been falling asleep. It would explain why his suit keeps beeping at him. But that doesn’t matter now. What matters is how he’s going to get back into the mansion. It’s not exactly like he knows what the identification system actually is . If he can get onto the rooftop and creep back down, then… Well, that is how he got out, so it should be fine to get into the mansion. 

Looking at the mansion from the treeline, Peter tries to identify his room, biting his tongue as he sees what he thinks is the window to his room. Leaping through the trees, he draws a line of webs to a tall tree, pulling down on the flexible length before launching himself into the sky above the mansion, rolling on the roof as he looks around. No one’s here… maybe no one even knows he’s missing? That’s good. Now time to get into the room. 

Crawling down the wall, he passes the first and second floors, or, wait, are those technically the fifth and fourth floors? Well, from his perspective, they could be either, but… Nope. Focus. He needs to get into his room, pulling open the window slowly and looking into the room. This is definitely the right room. Now to just-

“Peter. Patrick. Parker. What do you think you were doing?” a voice hums, the words slamming into his chest like daggers as he looks, wide-eyed, at the form of the girl standing in front of him. 

He’s been caught. Alright. No need to panic. How can he-

“You are just like us, Peter,” another voice adds, the distinct yet faintly masked Russian twang to the words making him twitch. Oh, so this is their game.

“Firstly, Kitty, Illyana, my middle name is Benjamin. Second, why are the two of you in my room?”

“Dammit, Illyana. I told you he’d recognise your accent.”

Hearing the faint sound of shrugging behind him, Peter looks over his shoulder, seeing the frame of Illyana shadowed by moonlight as she looks at him, “And you still need me to take you to that place, no? I may as well have some fun, too.”

“Take us where?”

“Limbo.”

“I’m sorry, what?!”

“For your welcome party? Chat told us how you left the mansion, or well, her animals told her, then she told us. We’ve been sneaking around getting things ready.”

“Да. So, ready to party, Superstar?”

“Question.”

“Answer?”

“How did you know I’d return here? There was, like, zero guarantee that I’d even stay to begin with.”

“Wrong. We’ve all been in your position. We know exactly what you were struggling with. Well, aside from Illyana, since her brother is an official X-Men member.”

“You say that like it was a given,” the blonde girl mutters, huffing as the brunette rolls her eyes at the comment made by her friend. 

“Well, anyways, c’mon. We’re throwing you a welcome party in Limbo.”

“I have two more questions.”

“Man, what are you, the question man?” 

“Sorry, I want to know everything about what’s going on, балерина (Ballerina). First, isn’t Limbo technically a level of Hell?”

Watching the blonde girl's eyes narrow, he waits for her to respond, “Yes, and I am its queen. Why? Don’t like the idea of partying with devils, Паук (Spider)?”

“...I don’t really know what to think about that. Last question for now, why did you call me Superstar?”

“Don’t like the nickname? We can change it if ya want, Pete,” Kitty mentions, tilting her head.”

“More confused. I think Pete and Tiger are- wait, no, Spider has also been pretty popular with how things have been recently. That's not the point. I don’t understand why you’re calling me Superstar.”

“Because you’re already pretty famous, нет (no)?”

“...I am?”

“Well, most of us and the X-Men heard of the Exceptional Arachkid before you joined. I would think that would make you a superstar.”

“Kitty is correct. Now, questions are done, Да? Limbo time,” Illyana responds, her hand enveloped in a faint sheen of darkflames, a sword and armour rolling across her left arm as she summons her soulsword. Peter gulps at the sight, remembering how easily it cut through the training modules. He definitely doesn’t want to be caught by that. 

Seeing the pair humming as the blonde concentrates, Peter watches a portal beginning to form in the middle of his room. The smouldering orange edges leaping open as he looks at the carpet. He hopes that this isn’t going to cause the carpet to smell of ashes. He really doesn’t need people to think he’s a smoker. Seeing the edges of the portal solidify, the interior space of the circle reveals a dark stone chamber, a series of board games and people laid out inside the room as they turn to see the portal opening. He can see Bobby, Jubilee, Gaby and Chat, the only people aside from Illyana and Kitty that he’s familiar with. But there’s got to be at least thirty people here. It’s a lot of people. A lot of people that he doesn’t know and that he’s going to need to-

“Wha-!” Peter startles, feeling a sudden push on his back as he falls into the portal, turning to see the grinning face of Kitty staring back at him as she leaps through the portal with Illyana. Flipping himself onto his feet as he lands on the surface of the hellscape, Peter looks around like a startled deer as he hears the cheers and whispered conversations of the people around him enveloping his ears.

“AND! All together now!” Kitty says, hopping and skipping, so she’s standing in front of the brunette boy.

“WELCOME TO THE X-KIDS, ARACHKID!”

The crowd's chant hums and rings out, Peter looking at the group, then at his suit and back at the crowd.

“I wish I had some regular clothes right now. Also, really? X-Kids ? Can’t you think of a better name, like Young X-Men or Ne-X Gen?” 

“Oooo~ Hey, I like that last one! Someone right that down! Someone right that down!” a young, native american woman says, the feathers braided into her hair bouncing around as she spins around looking for someone to write down Peter’s suggestion.

“Hey, at least you’re not naked, right?” Bobby mentions, walking over and slinging an arm around his shoulder as he pushes a red solo cup into Peter’s hand. Sniffing the liquid cautiously, the boy raises an eyebrow as he looks at the older boy.

 “True, but this isn’t much better. You grabbed something for me to wear, didn’t you? Also, what kind of booze did you put in this?”

“Nothing too bad, I swear! Just a little something to keep moods high, since, you know, we all have powers that could cause injuries to people if something happens,” he responds, pushing a handful of clothes into Peter’s hands.

“And you know that alcohol will make it more likely for us to use them because it turns off your common sense, etc., etc.?”

“Eh, semantics, semantics. C’mon! Relax! Have fun ! This is a party celebrating you ,” he responds, smiling as he pulls down his shades and pushes Peter into what he assumes is meant to be a changing room, “Oh, and prepare a speech. You're gonna need it.”

“Wha-”

“See ya out there!”

“What the he- Limbo. This is not how I thought today would be going,” Peter mutters, pulling off his suit as he squeezes into the clothes the skinny jean and flared shirt teen ‘gifted’ him. Luckily for him, they’re pretty comfy. Some flared beige chinos that remind him of the 90’s cartoons Aunt May and Uncle Ben insist he watched, and a snug, black shirt with some kind of faded spider worn into the fabric. Stepping out from behind the curtain, Peter looks at the group as they suddenly erupt into cheers at the sight of him returning to the party.

“Oh, boy. This is going to be a long night, huh?”

“See you, Peter!” the tall, loud boy, Peter thinks he called himself Sam, shouts as he runs back into the crowd, a small series of explosions erupting from around him as he begin to talk to Jubilee and Bobby. The Dynamite Trio. That’s what Peter’s going to call them. And to think, his only power is being part spider, basically. 

“So, whatcha thinkin’ about, Petie Pie?” Chat says, walking over and handing him a solo cup of, thankfully, water as he gratefully downs the cool liquid. Looking her over, Peter notices the eclectic mixture of animals that seem to be covering and surrounding her. Squirrels, mice, pigeons, a cat, two frogs. It’s almost like she's a witch.

“Eh, not much. Just trying to remember everyone's names.”  

“Geez. I don’t think you’ve got to do that.”

“I want to. If I can remember everyone and their powers, then I can help if something bad happens.”

“Prepare for the worst so you’re ready for the best. I think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself.”

Shrugging, Peter looks out across the gathering, “Maybe. I just… I want to live up to the expectations that have been placed on me.”

“...Well, is Mr. Righteous too uptight to meet a friend of mine?”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Peter smirks, looking at the girl standing next to him, “So, who do you want to introduce me to?” 

“You promise no judgments as well?”

“I swear it on my recently discovered superstardom.”

“Oh wow. Is that already going to your big head? Anyways,” Chat mentions, smiling as she stands aside, revealing a black haired girl with a blue streak running through it. Wearing what Peter can only call a tame punk outfit, he extends his hand towards her, watching her brows furrow before reaching out a hand to meet his, “This is Cordelia.”

“Nice to meet you, Cordelia.”

“Hm. Yeah.”

“So, Cordelia here isn’t the friendliest, but I’m sure that a superstar like you can get her to open up, hmm?”

“I mean, how about we start with our powers? I mean I think we both know that I have all the powers of a spider… I think. Minus the whole shooting webs out my butt. Could you imagine that?”

“Huh. Yeah.”

“So, yeah, I mean, I’ve got webs in my wrists, and I can stick to things pretty well. Oh, the web wings aren’t part of my powers and-”

“Do you ever stay quiet?”

“I’m sorry. I talk when I’m nervous,” Peter murmurs, scratching the back of his head, noticing Chat silently jab Cordelia in the side, making the girl wince. Watching as Chat shoots her a silent look that Peter swears must mean something along the lines of ‘be nice’. 

“Fine, fine. I’m Cordelia Frost . It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says, spitting out words like venom as Peter hums and tilts his head.

“Sure! So, what can you do?”

“...I’m sorry. Did the last name not scare you?”

“Why would it?”

“Because my sisters are the infamous White Queens!”

“And? That doesn’t mean you’re the same as them. Honestly, I’m used to people thinking I’m the same as Spider-Man, but I’m me.”

Looking at him in disbelief, Cordelia looks between Chat and Peter, clearly trying to figure something out as her eyes narrow and she makes eye contact with Peter. Watching her brow furrow, he reaches out a hand, about to stop her when she grits her teeth and hisses in pain. 

“What’s wrong, Cordelia?” Chat asks, panicking as she wraps an arm around her friend's back.

“I was about to say, I have a natural immunity to telepathy… Apparently, it feels like you’re mind is being stabbed by daggers.”

“Cordelia! You promised you wouldn’t!”

“Hey, it’s fine. Don’t-”

“No,” Cordelia groans, shakily rising to her feet, “It’s my bad. I just… I can’t believe you wouldn’t have any kind of negative feelings towards me.”

“Eh, I’m just like that.”

Rolling her eyes, Cordelia looks at the spider on his shirt, “Nice shirt. Sorry, by the way. I’m… well… yeah.”

“No worries. So, you’re a telepath?”

“Yeah… Why does your mind feel like that?”

“Some kind of hybridisation of spider multiprocesssing capabilities and natural telepathic powers. Not that I have the potential to do any of the same things as you, Jean, or Xavier.”

“Huh… Okay. So, who’ve you met?”

“Ooo~ Yeah! Who do you like most of everyone?!”

“I don’t play favourites, okay? But I will admit that Dani is pretty cool out of all the new people I’ve met today,” Peter mentions, pointing towards the girl, the braided feathers in her hair shaking as she enthusiastically engages in conversation with… he wants to say their names are Hisako and Rahne. Maybe he really shouldn’t have tried to remember everyone's names today…

“Oh! Dani’s nice! She’s kind of like our unofficial leader… well, her and Kitty.”

“Huh… that makes a strange amount of sense. They both kind of have that calm and mature feel to them, so I can understand why people would gravitate to that.”

Humming as the trio stand around observing the party, the quiet buzz of music and people moving fills the silence that falls between them. It’s weird. Almost like a comforting blanket of emptiness that still feels safe. Like he’s meant to just stand here, watching over everyone like some kind of silent protector. 

“You’re looking a bit scary there, Petie Pie. You might want to relax a little.”

Startling out of his thoughts, the boy flicks to look at Cordelia, “What? What was I doing?”

“Silently brooding. C’mon, we should head into the party so you don’t just stand here and become a loner like me.”

“You’re not a loner, Corie.”

“Yeah, I guess I do have you. Anyways, the point stands. We should head to the party and mingle. Play some games, maybe get a little buzzed.”

Scoffing, Peter shakes his head, feeling the pair tugging on his hands as he begins being dragged into the middle of the party. This really goes against his better judgment… But then again, he does have an enhanced metabolism. Can he even get drunk? He’s not sure he should even try, but the inviting warmth of the group enveloping him, card games, Jenga, Twister and more are scattered around him. He’s lost in a sea of inviting friendship, the hands of the girls who dragged him into the mess of a party hanging limply by his side. He can’t think about this anymore. No. Talking to his new friends, classmates, teammates, and who knows what else they’re going to be to him. This peaceful moment is something he didn’t think would be possible after he learnt gained his powers. 

The sounds of laughter ringing out across the plane of Limbo is deafening. Drowning out the demons. Drowning out the flames. Drowning out the screams. Cup after cup sliding down his throat, the gentle heat rising and cooling as the world around him turns into a kaleidoscope of colours and beauty. 

Tonight, he’s just going to be Peter because he can’t always be Arachkid.

Chapter Text

Falling. Peter's falling. He's not sure how or why, but he's falling. Spiralling down into the dark. Into the abyss. The only thing lighting his path, the only thing that's giving him any sort of perspective, is that thin, pale, yellow line. It's faint glow darting in and out of his vision as he keeps falling. 

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling

Into the ending darkness. Because that pale, faint line is growing brighter. And it's being joined. Hundreds, thousands of viable motes of… something, lighting the world around him in hues of colours, of spiralling masses. A weave. A web. A lattice. 

The Web of Life and Destiny.

He’s not sure how he knows what this is. In fact, it almost feels like he isn’t even here. Moving his hands, he can see the faint trace, a ghost of an outline of his body in blue-yellow hues. Like a flame that’s burning out. Like a ghost of a memory. But… he feels strangely calm. Maybe because he can’t remember anything. Maybe because he doesn’t feel like it matters. Nothing about his past or what he was doing before waking up here. Actually, did he wake up? 

Huh. This is weird. So weird. Like a weird dream sequence. God, why is this happening? Feeling his body lurch, looking towards what he thinks is the sky, as a webbed parachute pulls at his shoulders and floats him down from the sky. The string of the web bends under his weight as he lands on the structure. 

That doesn’t make sense. He shouldn’t be able to affect this web, right? That's… really strange. Actually, now that he thinks about it, how does he know about the Web of Life and Destiny? He’s never even heard about this before, let alone discovered it. Sure, Peter’s dabbled in quantum physics for fun, but he’s never actively looked for anything more. Huh… he remembered something. That’s… what the actual-

Before he can comprehend his next thought, he feels himself moving, his body crawling across the shambled webs. His eyes flick across the strand of thread, his mind processing the near-infinite expanse of space laid out in this thread.

5th dimension? Maybe 6th?  It’s like the infinitely large planes of existence are tangled together, and he’s standing outside of the space-time continuum, meaning he’s definitely at least on a 5th-dimensional level. That’s new. He wonders if this is a new mutation. Maybe he managed to unlock a second mutation. That would be hype. 

“Would you please stop chattering?” a voice murmurs in the darkness, Peter’s head spinning as he looks for the source. Opening his mouth to try and respond, Peter frowns at the silence that follows the motion.

“I’m sorry that I wanted to communicate with my fellow Totems, Master Weaver,” Peter responds, surprising himself with how raspy his voice sounds, the bone rattling chill of his teeth clicking together ringing out as he feels his mouth slam shut.

“Yes, yes. Well, I see you’re transporting another Avatar. Be careful, I have heard murmurs from our fellow Totems.”

“About?”

“ That one .”

“You mean…”

“Yes. It seems, they managed to release an aspect of themself before we sealed them away.”

“...I see. We may need a hunter.”

“Oh? Are you suggesting what I believe you are?”

“Whilst I do not agree with… The Other . I believe now would be a good time to see what they would suggest. We are running on limited resources after all.”

“Aren’t we always? Now, enough chatter. I sense this Avatar is beginning to stir. Send my regards to your Avatar.”

“And mine to yours, Master Weaver.”

Feeling his body moving, Peter looks around the space, seeing the vast expanse of strings and webs tied together. His eyes begin to bulge as he sees the hundreds or thousands of spiders crawling around the web. New strings and connections are briefly made between lines that he now can comprehend as realities. Incursions. Or threats posed by other life forms. Beings using the power they’ve been granted or that the universe allows as they travel between timelines and events. It’s beautiful. And terrifying. Knowing that all of his universe’s experiences, their lives, are spread out across these threads.

“Are you awake, Peter Parker?” the raspy voice rings out from beneath him. He’s now keenly aware of the separation of himself and the entity carrying him. It’s… strange. Oddly comforting, almost like a mother's embrace, as he tries responding to the voice beneath him.

“I- Yes. Who are you? Where am I? Why can’t I-”

“You don’t need to know, little one. When the time comes for you to join the efforts to protect this great weave, you will learn. For now, you may simply call me Mother.”

“Mother… So… Will you tell me what the Web of Life and Destiny is?”

“Hmm, oh, child. You already know.”

“I… Yes. It’s the multiverse. Or one representation of it. How am I here?”

“That, I do not know. For, you are already born of stardust, as other Avatars are, and the atomic resonance of your being should keep you quiet. Unless… well, that is besides the point, my child.”

“Okay… That isn’t terrifying at all.”

“I’m sorry, my child. You are not permitted to know of the future, or of the possibilities it may present.”

“Right. Because that could cause paradoxes?”

“Paradoxes… Yes. Now, shall we continue our journey?”

“Uh… Sure?” Peter responds, realising the question is more rhetorical as he ‘sits’ on top of the spider, calling herself Mother, beneath him. Frowning as he runs a hand along the back of the spider’s carapace, the boy begins analysing the structure, and marvelling at the sensation of the individual hairs on the spider’s back as he runs his hands along them. “So… Where are we going exactly?”

“We are heading to the selection, my child.”

 Frowning, Peter tilts his head, looking down at the spider, “Selection? For what?”

“Hmm… That is not important. Think of it like which universe you will be in.”

“But… I’m already-”

“Yes.”

“...Space-time wibbly wobbly?”

“Yes.”

“Gotcha. So, anything specific that this is going to involve, or…”

“You will be eaten.”

“...I’m sorry, what?!”

“Oh, please calm down, my child, you will not die. Just be reborn with the powers of your selection.”

“Again, what?!”

“Ah… Well, you will see.”

Biting his tongue, Peter debates trying to escape, hoping that he might be able to get away before he’s eaten. He doubts it though. After all, he seems to be tied to Mother as it is…

“Okay, so, do people normally wake up during this or…?”

“It is… uncommon. Normally, they wake up temporarily and fall back asleep, forgetting the web until they’re called for their purpose. This is the first time I have had someone remain awake for so long.”

“...Is that good?”

“Hmm… I would say neutral. It is uncommon, but you may have powers other Avatars do not.”

“So, when you say Avatars, what do you mean? I mean, I’ve heard Moon Knigt is the ‘Avatar of Konshu’ or his fist or whatever, but what am I the Avatar of?”

“I believe your name should tell you.”

“Arachnids?”

“...Are you not Spider-Man?”

“No? I’m Arachkid. There’s this guy, you probably know about him, called Miles. He’s Spider-Man.”

“Ah, Morales. I see. Yes. I am familiar with that variation of Spider-Man.”

“...How many versions of Spider-Man are there?”

“How many stars in the sky? How many threads to this web are there?”

“...Silly question. Gotcha.”

“There is nothing wrong with asking questions,” Mother retorts, pausing as she flips down, at least Peter assumes down, a thread of web trailing from beneath her as they descend. A large hole clearly outlined in the space pulses as he watches, seeing the clear outline despite the abyss surrounding the threads, and this hole remaining the same colour, “You must understand that all life for sentient beings is questioning existence. Even we, the weavers of the Great Web, question our existence at times.”

“But aren’t you all essentially deities?”

“Exactly. But there is one that understands all. And one that consumes all.”

“Huh…”

“Now, are you ready?”

“I…” Peter’s not sure. His palms are sweating, a weird, unusual sensation because of the ethereal feeling of his form. Is this an astral projection? His soul laid bare? How… weird. “No. But I can’t be ready for everything.”

“Yes. Now, let us go, Peter.”

Taking a deep breath in, Peter feels his body elongate and stretch; the feeling of descending into the hole is odd. Like he’s becoming spaghetti as his head spins. He bends and twists, falling onto the floor in a spaghettified pile. His bones click and crunch, the void of scent making the noise seem to pulse even louder as he feels his body reforming. Is this sensation the same that Doctor Reed Richards feels? Weird.

“This one is awake,” A voice hisses, a spider Peter recognises as an orbweaver pushing into the space, looming over Peter as he looks up, wide-eyed.

“How bizarre. Yes. He will be fun,” another voice scratches at his ears, jumping and twisting as he sees another spider, this time it’s some kind of jumping spider species as it looks down at him with its overly fuzzy body.

“Stay back, Bride. He will be mine,” a large, house spider responds, reaching out to smack the spider with its leg. 

“Quiet. We stand before Mother, we can not disgrace ourselves like we are,” another spider mentions, turning to face Mother as she appears within the space, “Mother, it is my gratitude to you for producing such a worthy Avatar for which I, the Gatekeeper of this thread, may give purpose.”

“Hmm… your appreciation is noted, my child.”

“I must ask Mother, how is it this one is still conscious?”

“I do not know. His powers must have allowed him to-”

“WE ARE LATE, YOU INSOLENT FOOL!”

“BECAUSE YOUR MEETING WITH THE SCIONS LASTED TOO LONG!”

“ENOUGH! WE MUST MAKE HASTE SO MOTHER DOESN'T-” a spider, Peter isn’t sure of the exact species, maybe some kind of Bell Diving spider, screams as they enter the space, freezing in place.

“Nice of you to join us, Scion, Patternmaker.”

“We are sorry, Mother. Scion’s meeting went-”

“Shut up. I do not care about that, Pattenmaker. Why does this Avatar walk and move amongst us?”

“What? What are you- Oh. How interesting. This is the Peter Parker you have produced for our timeline?”

“Yes. Now, if you are all present…”

“We are not. However, the Other and the other Totems shall watch from their places upon the thread.”

“I shall not be watching from afar anymore,” a large, tarantula-like spider growls, pulling itself into the space as it looks over Peter, “This one is interesting.”

“Other… brilliant. I trust you have heard my questions sent amongst your kind.”

“I have. I do not understand why you care for our opinions. You have never cared before.”

“You are the ones that managed to stop- We should not discuss this now. Not in front of an Avatar that is awake within ou realm.”

Peter gulps, suddenly keenly aware of the hundreds of thousands of eyes directed towards him from every direction. Is this what Mother meant? Are these spiders going to eat him? Was he meant to stay as spaghetti? Oh, god, please tell him he wasn’t meant to remain as spaghetti.

“Relax, Parker. We will not do anything you dislike yet. We have decisions to make. And things we must discuss about you.”

“...Uh…”

“So, you shall sit and wait until we make our decision.”

“Hang on-”

“Speaking of which, let us all discuss what makes this one a good Avatar for ourselves.”

Peter blinks, trying to take in the situation as he sees the various spiders begin to chatter amongst themselves. The steady buzz and thrum of the conversation seemed to ebb closer and closer into territory that confuses him. Something about spider avatars throughout history. All the various Avatars they’ve had brought to them. It’s weird.

“I’m so confused.”

“Don’t be, my child.”

“So, question, are there multiple of you?”

“Yes, my child. Each timeline has a spider that represents a specific job. Aside from the Great Weaver.”

“And it’s okay for me to know this.”

“All Avatars find out one day about their role in the web. I believe today will be that day for you.”

“Did you make my soul?”

“...Altered is a better term for it. We, Mothers simply select souls provided to us by our Gatekeepers before weaving the status of being an Avatar into their being.”

“And… what about the Avatars through time?”

“We are immortal, to your mortal span of life. We must continue our path, so you may exist.”

“Right…”

Looking across the room, Peter can’t help but marvel at the lively discussion. If this is what meeting god is like, he should be able to handle Asgard if he ever gets the chance. This messy collection of dirt, sticks and webs that seem to resemble an amphitheatre or nesting ground is a beautiful sight in its own, weird, twisted way. It’s also a bit puzzling to him why he couldn’t see the room before. Some kind of cloaking technology?

“I can see what you are thinking, child, and you are wrong. We have simply shifted the domain into a visual you can comprehend, so you are not just observing us in the abyss you saw before.”

“Oh. Okay. Do you do that often?”

“When we need to speak to our Avatars. Now, come. It seems they have begun to make a decision.”

Walking forward towards the heart of the conversation, Peter looks over the spiders, silently looking for identifying markers for species that he could look for at home… or is this also technically his home since it’s part of his universe? This is one weird dream. Dream? Dream isn’t the right word. Hallucination would be closer, but… God, this is difficult.

Turning to face the crawling masses of spiders as they turn to face him, Peter involuntarily gulps, his mouth drying out as he realises. No matter what happens now, he’s about to be eaten. And that’s terrifying in it’s own right.

“We have had a discussion. We took longer than we thought,” the spider Peter thinks is called the Gatekeeper mentions.

“Yes… The Scion claimed the last one. They shall not be taking you.”

“You are not a bride or groom, strung out through chances and luck.”

“You are not a patternmaker; they believe in unchangeable fate.”

“You are not a weaver, for they control and demand.”

“You are not a keeper, for you wish to spread your gifts with all.”

“You are not another, for they wish for combat with no peace.”

“Um… is this going to take much longer? I kind of feel like if there are hundreds of you that you’re going to talk about, this could get way too long.”

“Very well, Peter Parker. We have determined that you shall not be given to any of us present in this nest, for your soul does not confide in our domains. However, we are in agreement that your… abilities will be required at a later date, therefore, we have offered you to the one who hunts that which threatens the timeline.”

“Welcome him, for he will be your Totem, and you his Avatar. In most timelines, he is not needed. Hunter, please, come forth.”

Frowning as he watches the other spiders skitter back, vanishing into the darkness of the nest around him, Peter turns to look at Mother. If spiders could make expressions, he could swear she's making a face of agony mixed with sorrow and… joy? Empathy? It’s weird.

“Hunter? Who’s tha-”

“Hello, my Avatar…” a voice rumbles out, Mother slinking into the shadows as she vanishes with a silent salute. Gulping as he turns to face the noise, Peter’s eyes widen as he sees a massive, brown Huntsman spider, it’s fangs clicking as it looks down at him. Gritting his teeth as he sees venom dripping onto the floor, apparently acidic enough to cause the floor to start bubbling as he looks at the creature.

“Uh… Hi? The Hunter. Mr Hunter? Ms Hunter?”

“I am The Hunter. You will be my vessel. We will hunt down the enemies of the web. Now remain still.”

“Wait! Can’t I-” Peter begins before he’s cut off. His body is paralysed in an instant by the webbing of the spider in front of him. Eyes wide as he watches the Huntsman spinning him up as it begins to carry him out of the nest, taking him somewhere. Oh god. This is happening. He’s about to be eaten. Is he going to eat his soul? Is he going to melt him into goop and-

“Relax, my Avatar. You will not feel any pain. You will awaken in your bed like you mortals always do.”

Dragging his body down, further and further into a nest of webs, the Hunter’s deep brown carapace glimmers in the ethereal lights. Twisting andturning corridors of maddening designs passing him by as they drop. Closer, and closer, and closer, and closer.

Until.

They.

Pop.

The kaleidoscope of shifting threads, the web of life and destiny, shatters its way into the space. Its iridescent, shimmering hues burn a radiant light. A light Peter can’t understand or explain. But he knows it’s safe. That it’s protection. 

“Now, my Avatar. Observe for the last time the light that guides and protects the multiverse. We will stalk all that threatens it from within its shadows. You will awake and remember nothing of what transpired. For now,” the spider says, its mandibles clicking. Peter feels a small, sharp pain in the back of his neck, the fangs of the spider piercing his flesh. But he doesn’t panic. Not when he feels his body starting to liquify. Or when he could feel his liquid body being slurped into the Spider. All he feels is a strange sense of calm as he looks at the web. 

To protect. That’s his destiny.

Chapter Text

Peter groans. A throbbing, sharp pain centred in the middle of his forehead, spiking all through the base of his skull, burns into him. He’s not sure when he got back to his room, but he must have slept like a log. Especially with how weird he feels. He thinks he was dreaming about… something? He can't remember. Typical dream shenanigans. Shrugging as he tries to sit up, Peter frowns, looking down at his body. He hears a faint murmur from under the blankets of his bed, his mind reeling as he begins to sit up. The faint rustle of sheets fills the room, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Calm down,” he mutters, gulping as he fumbles around the bed looking for his glasses, “Maybe it’s not what you think it is. C’mon, Peter. Think… What happened last night?” Grabbing his head, he closes his eyes, eyebrows furrowing as he thinks. He was… hanging out with Chat and Cordelia… He was dragged into the party, had a couple of drinks whilst talking to Bobby and… Oh, god. That’s right. The throbbing pain in his skull returns with renewed force. “Fucking, Bobby… Did he really have to spike the drinks like that? Where do you even get alcohol and drugs that work on people with superhuman metabolism?”

Hearing the groans under the sheet doubling, Peter opens his eyes, biting his tongue. Well, he’s going to have to confront this one way or another, right? He’s such an idiot, though. If this were… then he’s not going to… Urgh… 

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Peter, we’re coming in,” the voice of Scott calls out.

The noise of the door being slammed startles Peter, causing him to jump, the duvet of the bed flipping out of his hands. A soft creak of the door opening, the familiar faces of Scott and Logan pushing into the room, as the boy looks to his sides. Gulping as he looks between the pair of adults, blank stares on their faces, and the sleeping forms of Chat and Cordelia lying beside him, as he waits for one of them to say something. The silence falling across the room is deafening, and Peter swears, his heart is filling the silence with how hard it feels like it’s thumping.

“It’s not what it-”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THIS IS PERFECT! He ain’t a boy scout after all, aye? C’mon, kid, let’s go,” Logan says, laughing with a massive grin on his face, “Oh, though you might needa get dressed first, huh?”

“Logan, this is highly inappro-”

“Well, who te fuck cares. He’s a kid! They all are. Let them have some fun, ya fuckin’ goody two shoes. Now, c’mon, Pete. I wanna train ya.”

“Oh, right. Um… I’ll just…” Peter slips out of the sheets, slightly relieved to find that he’s at least wearing his boxers, before jumping onto the ceiling and zipping his bag up and quickly pulling on some clothes as he flips back down and walks past the stunned face of Scott, standing looking at the bed and shaking his head. “Uh… Sorry?”

“Don’t apologise to glasses, bub. ‘Side’s Imma train ya before we send ya back to ya folks with ya decision.”

“But-”

“I said, don’t, bub.”

Throwing one last look into his room, Scott seeming to finally wake up from his dazed state, Peter watches the ruby-lensed man turn to look at him and Logan. His hand reaches for them as they turn the corner, a faint click of his tongue before he turns to address the girls in the room as Peter hears the door click shut behind him.

“So… you don’t seem to be surprised…” Peter mutters absentmindedly to Logan as he follows him through the familiar corridors towards the training room. Or was it the Danger Room? Peter can’t really remember.

“The smell of booze, bub. I ain’t unfamiliar with them scents. ‘Specially when Bobby is rummaging through my supplies.”

“Wait, those were your alcohols?! No wonder they worked on me…”

“Plus, I could smell ya kids leave and come back. Seemed like ya had a good welcome party if you ended up with two chicks in your bed.”

“Look, I don’t know if it was-”

“Regardless, bub, you’ve got game and ain’t the goody two shoes I thought ya’d be. I kinda understand why Charles likes ya, kid.”

“Um… thanks?”

“No worries, bub. Now, I wanna see if I can’t draw out that instinct of yours before we make your membership here official.”

“Instinct?”

“Hunters Instinct. Kinda like a sixth sense for trackin’, etc. See, that Spidey has his ‘Spider-Sense’ which is a’ight, but ya seem to have the same instincts as me.”

“Huh?”

“Fight or flight, bub. And you got that fight in ya.”

“Oh. That actually makes a lot more sense…” Peter mutters as the doors to the room open, the hiss of the steam rolling out of the door like a welcome mat as he walks inside. Following Logan, he feels a package roughly placed against his chest, looking down to see the Arachkid suit in his hands. Thumbs tubbing agains the synthetic materials, Peter whistles.

“Get changed. We’ll talk when ya done,” Logan hums, walking out of the changing room, already in his uniform. Puzzled, the boy looks around, trying to figure out where Wolverine’s clothes are. Not to mention the unusual speed he managed to get ready in. Is this the true power of an X-Man?! Man, Peter’s got a way’s to go, huh. Shrugging out of his clothes and into his newly acquired suit, Peter slinks out of the training room, watching as the yellow and black clad form of the short mutant in front of him stretches.

“So… how does this work?”

“Simple. Your senses will preempt ya on where your enemies are.”

“Like… seeing the future?”

“Kinda. I guess the more accurate way of explainin’ it would be looking at ya surroundings and the other factors like scent or heartbeats to know where to attack.”

“...I don’t get it.”

Logan growls, his grinding against each other sparks of adamantium flying into the air around him as he clearly thinks for an answer, “Alright, kid. So, I can smell and hear when things are ‘bout to happen. I think the best way I can show ya that is if I just start the exercise.”

“Oh! Yeah, that would be great. So, what exactly-”

“If ya gonna ask questions, bub, ya’re gonna miss out on the fun,” Logan growls back, his face twitching into a smile. A low-pitched beeping fills the room, the hairs on the back of Peter’s neck slowly rising. Something’s about to happen. The question is-

WHIZZ

A red beam of energy fires towards him, Peter barely managing to avoid the brunt of the attack as the heat sears the side of his suit. Eyes flipping towards what he assumes is the source of the attack, he sees a drone, sparking as an adamantium claw pierces through it. Blinking, Peter opens his move, closing it as he senses another beam, flipping out of the way as he sees the blur of yellow leaping towards the drone and smashing it against the floor of the room.

“WHAT IS THIS?!” 

“DANGER LEVEL 15! ADAPT OR YA’RE GONNA FEEL IT, BUB!”

“I DON’T THINK I’M READY FOR THIS!”

“HAHAHAHA!”

“Oh, no…”

Groaning, Peter clutches his shoulder, watching the smiling face of Logan as he goes around the room, kicking the drones back into the walls. The sound of electricity and circuits repairing the drones fills the sides of the room. He assumes the Danger Room has a built-in repair feature. How does that work? Actually, the more pressing issue is the fact that he almost died!

“What was that?!” he asks, angrily gesturing to the room.

“Relax, bub. These things are set to stun, though you being fine means a got some kind of healing factor, yeah?”

“I do, but that’s not the point!”

“What did you learn?”
“What?”

“I’m saying, what did you notice ‘bout that whole combat? Don’t tell me ya weren’t payin’ attention, ‘cause Rogue told me ya got some kinda eidetic memory thing.”

“I…” Peter begins, frowning as he begins to recall the ‘battle’, “I sensed where the attacks were coming from and avoided them, but it seemed like you could… like you preempted where they were to attack them.”

Nodding, Logan places his hands on his hips, “Good. That’s a start. See the same sense ya used to avoid the attack, ya think you had time to react before the attack?”

“I… Maybe?”

“See thats your instinct. Ya ever been fighting someone and ya focus so hard ya just zone out?”

“...Now that you mention it, yeah. And then when I snapped out of it the two of them were already captured.”

“Twice? Huh, I was right then.”

“So… the point of this training is…”

“To learn how to attack before the drones. See, when we work as a team, the X-Men that is, they ain’t lookin’ for me to just dodge and avoid the attacks. They want me to tear them apart. Stop the rest of the team from getting injured by a surprise attack. Helps that I can also use myself as a shield with my healing factor, but ya got that same style to ya. Well, that and the charisma of shades.”

“I… So, we’re… I need to become you?”

“Kinda, bub. I wanna make ya a better me,” Logan responds, clicking his neck as he cleans his claws, “Look, I ain’t the sunshine and rainbows that ya and the other kids have been seeing me as recently… I’m… I have a lotta blood on my hands. But if I can make something of ya, and the other kids, maybe the world’ll be a better place.”

“Right…” Peter says, biting his cheek as he tries to think of a way to change the subject, “So… any tips on how to develop these instincts?”

“Aggression. Ya got some sharp senses, yeah? You just gotta use them more aggressively. It’d make it a lot easier for ya kids to beat the Sentinel simulations.”

“...Because instead of changing the plan on the fly, I just cover the gaps…”

“‘Xactly.”

“But that’s not what we’ve been-”

“Things don’t always go the way ya ‘xpect.”

Silence fills the room, the man staring down at the boy as they judge the expressions of the other. Neither makes a move. It’s tense, but not uncomfortable, and Peter’s not sure why it feels this way. Is it the fact that he’s being told that everything he normally does is wrong? Well, not wrong, but not what’s needed?

“So… how am I training this?”

“Ya gonna be running the sim. Ya get hit, we stop and restart. It’ll be a process.”

“Right… how long does this program last?”

“Eh, normally I do it for thirty minutes on level 30. You’ll get there.”

Grunting as he thinks about how difficult the task already is, Peter stands up, “Alright then. I guess we should start then.”

“Good. Now ya on your own. Figure it out.”

“Wait, I’m not-”

WHIZZ

A red beam darts past him, striking the ground. Flipping to avoid the hit and twirling on his palm, he fires out a web. Connecting the line to the drone, he yanks it down. Shattering against the ground, the drone sputters, a small whirring sound emitting from it before it fizzles out.

“Strike before the drone fires!”

“I’M TRYING!” he retorts, flipping and dodging around more attacks, webbing the drones before they crumble into heaps on the floor.

“Then focus! What happens before they attack?!”

Frowning, Peter breathes in, listening for the drone, a faint, clicking sound mixed with a shimmering sound emitting from somewhere. “There’s noise!”

“What’s it remind you of?”

“A heartbeat!”

“Good. Now, what else happens?”

“Theres… a flash.”

“And?”

“Movement.”

“And are you seeing the movement, hearing the movement, or feeling the movement?”

Blinking as he processes the words, avoiding the attacks, trying to stop the barrage coming towards him before a beam slams into his upper abdomen, Peter thinks. “I… I think I’m feeling the movement.”

“‘Xactly. That’s ya’re advantage over me. Something you’re blessed with thanks to that spider gene,” Logan says, walking over to the computer screen as he waits for the boy to return to the middle of the room. Seeing the boy shamble over towards the middle, rubbing the sore spot on his abdomen, Logan presses the red button, starting up the machine again.

“What?”

“You’re body feels the vibrations in the air. That’s how the other spider’s senses work. Ya’re different ‘cause ya’re able to process that information, right? So, do what ya do. Focus. Ya’re body can react quicker than this.”

“...I feel like this isn’t the best way to learn…” Peter mutters, closing his eyes as he waits for the drones. It’s stupid. There’s no way this would-

His wrist snaps out. It was just a moment. A small, tiny, unnoticeable movement. Like the most minuscule change in air pressure, yet he felt that. Before he’d even registered it, his body had thrown out a web, immobilising the drone. It’s insane. Is this what Wolverine does?!

“Good. Now keep ya eyes open, ya damn brat! Ya needa work on being able to react to visual and sensory effects at the same time. Ya have the extra range, I wish I did, so use it to ya advantage!”

“Oh! My webs!” Peter responds, trying to peel open his eyes as he continues to sense out the drones, his body reacting to the attacks, “But I can’t open my eyes!”

“Why not?!”

“It’s like- OUCH!” Peter yelps as his eyes open and he’s slammed by three lasers at the same time, “It’s too much to process?”

“Huh, so we needa work on making ya be able to process the vibrations subconsciously. Gotcha.” 

“Wait, is that even possible?”

“Rogue and Hank showed me a scan of ya brian. Ya should be able to section off different parts to do different tasks, they think. Ya know, cause ya got them multiple brains.”

“Right… so I basically need to set my different senses to background filters?”

“Not ‘xactly. Ya brain already does that, see. Ya don’t think about ya senses naturally, do ya?”

“I guess not…”

“So, we just need to align that vibration sense to be the same. Kinda like how ya use it to dodge, ‘xcept we’re trainin’ it to hit.”

“Right… So…?”

“Relax, bub. We’re just getting started. Now, ya needa learn how to push tasks into the background, right? We’re gonna do that by breakin’ it down to begin with. Smaller tasks, got it?”

“I don’t, no.”

“Hmmm…” the man growls, narrowing his eyes behind his mask as he looks towards Peter, “Ya needa be able to sense vibrations on command, so we’re gonna build it up. We start by givin’ you a crutch.”

Thinking, Peter places a hand on his chin as he tries to decide what Logan mans, “I… the other times I’ve let my instinct take over, I had my webs placed around the area, and…”

“‘Xactly. Like a spider, ya sensed the vibrations along ya web and subconsciously strung the attacks along with them,” Logan says, scrolling on the computer, a holographic display of his former battles with The Beetle and Frost Pharoh on full display, “‘Xcept, in most combat situations you’ll be in with us, ya won’t have time to set up, or if you do, it’ll be at the cost of ya team, got it?”

“Right… so I needa work on my senses using my webs for now…” Peter mutters, unconsciously copying the speech pattern of the man in front of him.

“Yep. And we’re gonna do that by changing this little game. I want ya to set up a little web nest. Make it so it won’t get in my way, and ya’re gonna direct me on where the drones are about to appear.”

“Using my abilities to sense the enemies and letting you do the actual fighting? You want me to command you?”

“Yeah, plus it also lets ya work on your leadership and improvisation.”

“You know, for someone who says they’re not a good teacher, you seem to be doing a pretty good job at it.”

Rollin his eyes, Logan removes the displays of his previous fights from the Danger Room, the soft sunlight glow fading into the harder, more mechanical fluorescence of the sci-fi room. Looking around, Peter begins spinning a web. The walls and floors are lined with strings of web as they connect to a single point in the corner of the room. A vantage point where he can look over the room. Perching on the point, he looks down at the room, watching as Logan cracks his neck, leaping over the railing between the computer and the steel-lined floor of the combat area. Hearing a familiar cackle in his ear Peter presses a finger to his right ear.

“Ya hear me, kid?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good, ya suit is linked to the general comms of the X-Men. Hank’ll tell ya about the fine tunin’ but ya don’t need it right now.”

A soft beep begins emitting from the computer, a small digital display lighting up in the sky above the middle of the room. That’s new. At least to Peter it is. Did he just not notice it before? That’s weird because it did set off a vibration… He really needs to get this sixth sense thing working, huh?

“Alright, Wolverine, let’s see how this goes.”

“Don’t worry too much kid, if anything goes wrong, I can react like normal. ‘Sides, this is also a way for ya to get corrected. I’ll let ya know if ya slow. That’s the benefit of havin’ me as ya partner for this.”

Smiling beneath his mask, Peter nods towards the man who’s looking up at him. Shooting him a thumbs up, the man gives a curt nod as the number on the digital display finishes its countdown. Feeling the vibration of the first wave of drones beginning to appear, Peter grits his teeth.

“First ones on you left around 11:25, 6 feet. Let’s do this!”

Chapter Text

The cool rush of the running water over his skin as he washes the bruises off his skin. Well, more effectively, the hot water is helping the bruising to stop swelling. It’s nice, especially after spending the last two hours working with Logan. They quickly progressed from Peter being perched in the corner of the room to having him dancing and fighting along the webs with him. Calling out where the drones were going to be coming from did kind of make it harder. Especially considering he had his eyes closed the entire time. His vibrational awareness did increase, or to be more accurate, he’s now able to tune into it and activate it at will. It’s a ways off the fully autonomous version that Logan uses, but it’s a start.

Turning the knob to the shower off, Peter shuffles out of the shower, his arms sore as he dries off. Logan had already left by now, something about having a meeting with the other X-Men. Apparently, there's some kind of threat on the horizon, but he’s too young to be dealing with it. Kind of feels a bit backhanded when he’s also doing better than some of the X-Men, but what does he know? Pulling on the same green shirt and denim jeans, Peter stretches, throwing his Arachkid suit into the autowasher. Hank said that it returns to your room once it’s washed, so that’s helpful. 

Rounding the corner out of the Danger Room, he’s suddenly struck with the thought of how he’s going to head back to May and Ben’s house. Taxi? If all the adults are off on their battle planning, he kinda has no other options, right? 

As he stumbles up the stairs, hand pressed against his chin, Peter almost collides with someone standing in front of him. Freezing and rocking back, he looks up, seeing the familiar form of Jean standing in front of him, eyebrow raised as she looks down at him.

“You okay there, Peter?”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to… No, that’s not what I meant. I was just trying to figure out how I was getting home, since you’re all busy with your planning for… Logan didn’t tell me that much, actually.”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Also, don’t worry about getting home, we’ll drop you off in the Blackbird whilst we go off on our mission.”

“Oh! I see.”

Smirking as she looks at the relieved expression on Peter’s face, Jean places a hand on her waist, leaning to the side slightly as she looks at the boy, “So, I take it you’ve made a decision.”

“Uh…”

“Don’t worry. We all know already about the welcome party the kids throw each time they get a new friend.”

“Right… Scott and Logan mentioned that now that I think about it.”

“Not to mention, my darling Scott ranted to me about the situation he found you in this morning.”

“Ah… I’m not normally-”

“I understand. Teenage boys are just balls of hormones as it is; you should’ve seen how bad it was when we first formed. The boys then were… well, let's just say it took me a while to warm up to them.”

“Oh… uh…”

“Anyway, since you're going to be joining us now, I figured it was only about time that something would happen. Especially with how similar you look to Scott. Way too many of the young girls have a crush on him and think I don’t know about it, despite being a telepath,” Jean says, walking past him. Turning, Peter internally questions if he’s meant to be following her before he sees her turn around and gesture with her head. Scrambling on his feet, Peter runs to catch up, slowly walking beside the woman as they begin walking through the mansion.

“I… I’m not used to this sort of attention, if I’m being honest,” Peter mentions, adjusting his glasses as they continue walking.

“Really? I feel like all the girls would have been all over you.”

“Urgh… I think my complexion and everything improved after my mutation activated. I was a nerdy, acne-riddled kid before this all happened…”

“Well, don’t let it get you down. You ready to head home? We’re heading out in ten.”

“I can be ready in ten. Where do I need to-”

“Garage, or just leave through the window like last night.”

“Ah…”

“It’s okay, Peter. You clearly needed to clear your head, so the Professor told me not to alert anyone to you leaving. I’m not sure how the kids found out, though…”

Debating if he should tell Jean about the animal security system that Chat has set up, Peter looks out the window. Frowning as he sees the miniaturised storm forming in the courtyard, he looks back towards Jean, seeing her smile. “So… is that Storm?”

“Yes, Ororo is… Well, Logan came up with a new idea for…”

“He’s trying to conduct the lightning to increase his damage potential.” 

“Yes…” Jean says, sighing as they watch Logan jump into the Storm before being sent flying, “That idiot is seriously deranged.”

“Eh, I guess it kind of makes sense… I just don’t understand why they’re practising outside instead of in the Danger Room.”

“Hmm… probably because Ororo prefers to use her powers outdoors in case she accidentally destroys something. It’s a lot easier, and means Hank doesn’t have as much work to repair anything.”

Humming as he watches the yellow-suited man getting thrown back into the air, electricity cackling off his body, Peter wonders how this is meant to work. Sure, he’s never worked with Adamantium, so he doesn’t know its electrical conductivity, but he’s not sure if Wolverine’s body can handle the voltage. A healing factor can only go so far after all. Watching as the man springs back to his feet before charging at the storm, the various X-Men around the courtyard scream at him to stop. It is kind of insane. But then again, if you’re crazy enough to dress up in a costume to go save the world, aren’t you also insane?

Following Jean as they turn away from the window, the pair make their way to the foyer. The ornate, glowing braziers and chandeliers are dazzling in the midday sun, the light catching the wooden skirting board in a soft glow. It’s beautiful in an old-money way, although it does remind him that he needs to message Harry about when the two of them are meeting. That and having to organise his stuff once he gets back… but he can also do that on Sunday. 

“I am telling you for the last time, Logan. THIS ISN’T WORKING!” Ororo yells, the doors slamming open with a gust of wind as the X-Men begin flooding the foyer. 

“C’mon, Ororo! Just a lil’ more, I think I’m gettin’ the timin’ down!” 

“NO! I can’t stand the smell of scorched flesh. It’s, making me- Oh, Jean,” Ororo says, the muffled sound of Scott in the background mentioning how he's fine with the smell with a mix  of agreement and argument following the comment, “And I assume this is the new child. It is a pleasure to meet you, young one.”

“Uh, same to you. Man, this place is wild. I keep meeting people whom I’ve admired for the longest time.”

“Well, it’s good to know that we are being a positive influence on the younger generation.”

“Ain’t that the truth, bub. Ya, ready to head back to your folks, kid?”

“God, I hope you aren’t going to be a bad influence on him.”

“Oh, relax, goody-two shoes. I ain’t gonna teach him anything like that. He already knows it,” Logan responds, shooting a smirk at the boy as Scott's eyes narrow behind his glasses.

“And, I was hoping you wouldn’t praise him for that.”

“I have to concur with Scott on this one, Logan. Whilst effective, you’re also a bit of a loose cannon.”

“With a screw loose.”

“And-”

“Alright, I get it, I get it. Yeesh, ad here I was thinkin’ y’all liked me.”

“We do, Suga’. You’re just a lil’ difficult, ya know?”

Humming to himself as he watches the X-Men argue, Logan being the topic of choice, Peter can’t help but wonder if this is what a team should be like. He’s never really been part of a team. He never played sports, never joined something like the chess or puzzle clubs. It’s like an entirely different connection. And he can't help but wonder if the way they’re all treating each other is camaraderie, forged in the battles that united them, or more… family. Another thing that, whilst he has experienced with May and Ben, he isn’t sure how it works. It’s different from the two that raised him. Different from how it was with his mum and dad, not that he can remember their faded faces too well. It’s not just unconditional support. With the X-Men it seems to be holding each other accountable for the mistakes they make, or the decisions they have. It reminds him more of how he and Harry act around each other. Huh…

“You okay there, Peter?” Scott asks, all eyes in the foyer seeming to turn and look at the boy, “You look… well…”

“Huh?” Peter asks, reaching up and touching his eyes, noticing the small pools of liquid gathering in the corners, “Uh, I’m… I don’t know, I kind of zoned out and… I don’t know… maybe it’s because I was thinking about my parents, or maybe it was because I was… I’m fine. Really.”

“If you’re sure, suga’.”

“How about we go to the Blackbird, hmm? You can leave your stuff here and-”

“Ah, but I need my bag. I… don’t have another one to put my stuff into and I don’t want to make Ben or May pay for another one…”

“...Right. Want one of us to come with you?”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll be back soon.”

Flipping onto the ceiling, Peter breaks out into a sprint along the top of the hallway towards his room on the third floor. Waving at the various other kids that he's struggling to remember the names of. Finding his room, the door still partially open, Peter peeks his head inside. Humming as he looks around, he flips into the room, only to met with a pillow to the face as he blinks and looks to the corner of the room, seeing Chat, smiling as she holds up another pillow.

“Hey, Chat.”

“Heya, Peter. Took you long enough to come back,” she replies, throwing the pillow at him, Peter’s hand coming up subconsciously and catching it. Raising an eyebrow, Chat looks at him nodding her head, “That’s new.”

“Logan. He wanted to train me before I went back to my Aunt and Uncle’s place to get my stuff.”

“So, this is it, huh? You’re officially moving in.”

“You sound… disappointed?”

“Hmm… Well, after last night, I can’t help but feel a little jealous… and worried about what might happen. Not that I really have a right to be since I was the one that suggested that-”

“I… This is going to sound bad, but I don’t really remember what happened last night…”

“Oh, don’t worry so much about that. Nothing like that happened… I think. At least, Cordelia and I did… I vaguely remember helping you get out of your clothes because… oh yeah! Bobby was sick on you… Actually, it might have been a couple of people. Pretty sure it was because you were in a drinking competition and won… Eh, the details don’t matter that much. I just wanted to thank you again for… well, not judging Cory for who her family is. It’s not very common in this mansion, especially considering Emma isn’t always a fan favourite.”

“Well, I try to be friends with everyone. It’s not like I want to be fighting everyone I meet.”

“And that is why you’re worrying me. That kind heart is going to break so many of… Well, never mind that. You’re looking for this, right?” Chat says, passing the beaten duffel bag to Peter.

“Thanks. Um… I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Oh, boy. Can't wait to see you get put into the ‘gifted’ category. Oh, by the way, when you’re drunk, you start talking in… I want to use scientific formulas, but it might have been math equations. I kinda zoned out. See you Monday, Pete!”

Turning to watch her leave the room, Peter swallows, giving an awkward wave to the back of the girl before calling out, “Yeah! See ya, Chat!” Slumping forward as he puts his head in the duffel and groans quietly, he begins to mumble, “God, Peter. Why are you so awkward?! This is why you couldn’t ask out MJ! Urgh~! I’ve got to do better. I want to do better.”

Shrugging the duffel bag over his shoulder as he twists back onto the ceiling, Peter hums, making a mental list to himself of the things he wants to get better at. Mainly communication. It’s weird, though, because normally he’s fine. Something about Chat… Actually, there are a couple of people that he’s met who have been throwing him off. And there’s one common trend among them. Cursing his hormones as he continues making his way towards the foyer on the ceiling. He can hear the distant… no feel, the distant feeling of engines roaring to life. Vibration training at its finest. Swinging into the foyer, ignoring the other X-Kids as they shout and yell at him. Rocketing out of an open window, Peter lands on the back of a sleek, black jet, his feet tapping across the surface as he peeks into the vehicle.

“You wanna get in, kid?” Logan grumbles as he looks at him from the open door at the back of the ship. The man looks up at him, a dissatisfied look on his face, arms crossed and fingers tapping his massive biceps.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I was kind of expecting-”

“Your senses ain’t there yet. Just get in the bird.”

“On it,” Twisting as he feels the jet begin to lurch, Peter lands inside the metal interior of the Blackbird. It’s advanced. Kinda reminds him of the Quinjets that he saw S.H.I.E.L.D operating on that one field trip back in Elementary. IT even has a very similar holographic table for laying out plans of action and- Not the time to be getting distracted. Or maybe it is? He’s about to be dropped off back at his house, and he’s going to have to explain that he wants to go to this school and-

“Ya just gonna stay standin'’, Kid?”

“Oh, right,” he replies rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as he sits into one of the empty chairs. He’s a little confused at why there aren’t more X-Men in here…

“Most of them are fliers. They ain’t gonna stay in this old thing if they can just get there using their mutations.”

“What?” Peter says, turning to see Scott looking back at him from the cockpit of the jet.

“You heard me. Now buckle up, it’s not going to be a long ride, but the turblerence is going to be pretty harsh as well. Oh, and theres a sick bag under the seats incase you end up motion sick.”

“Wait how often does that-” he begins to ask before the jet lurches, the wind knocked out of his lungs as he gasps for air. The pulse of the jet's engines beneath him thrumming in a rhythmic ticking. Looking around the hanger bay, or is it a strategy room, he looks at the empty seats, silently wondering just how many of the mutants can fly. Theres obviously five of them in the front of the plane, but he’s pretty sure he saw about twelve members preparing for this mission. That’s a lot of fliers.

“We’re here, Peter.”

“Already?!”

“Hank has this thing laid out pretty well. Plus, an hour-long car journey in a plane is typically about ten minutes.” 

“Right… Uh, so do I just?”

“Oh, right. Lower it down a little, Peter can’t fly out.”

A muffled noise from the cockpit that Peter assumes is agreement is followed by the sound of the jet descending. The hanger door opens, Jean stepping into the room alongside Logan and Scott, the couple giving him a reassuring smile whilst Logan watches intently. He gets the feeling Logan is mainly watching in order to save him, rather than anything else.

“So, uh… I’ll see you for school on Monday?”

“Hmm… Probably more likely to be Sunday night.”

“Oh. Right. Uhm… Well, it was great seeing how everything was going to be and everything, I’m just gonna,” stepping back towards the edge of the hanger door, Peter looks at the ground about thirty feet below him. Thwipping out a web as he slows his descent, he turns his head up briefly, seeing the three X-Men waving him off as he touches the ground. Watching as the jet takes off into the distance, he turns to face the familiar facade of his childhood home. 

Walking up the old, beaten driveway, he looks at the neatly trimmed grass. He’s not sure exactly how this is going to go, but he’s sure that it’ll be fine, right? It’s not like they’ll say no. They seemed up for it. Knocking on the door, he waits for a response.

One second passes. 

Then another.

And Another

It feels like,

A slow,

Gradual,

Drawl.

Like time is going to crawl,

To a complete,

Stop.

It’s torture.

“Peter?” Ben asks, opening the door slowly before throwing his arms around the boy, “How was it, boy? Did you meet some nice, new friends?”

“Hi, Ben. Yeah. It was really nice. I… I think-”

“Yes, we understand. It feels like you belong there, doesn’t it?”

“How did you-”

“It’s okay, Peter. If anything, we’re happy for you. After all, Xavier told us how if you join the school they-”

“BENJAMIN! At least let him get inside before we start talking about that stuff.”

“Right, right, Dear,” Ben mutters, clearing his throat as he helps pull Peter into the house, “Now, how long do you have? Do you need to leave soon?”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m going back… Sunday night, I think. The X-Men have a mission.”

“Ah, right, dear. So, would you like something to eat?” May asks, poking her head around the corner of the doorframe leading to the kitchen, the flower wallpaper surrounding the door looking like a halo in the light. “We were just about to have lunch.”

Hearing the words leaving May’s mouth, Peter hears his stomach grumble, “That would be perfect, May, thank you.”

“No problem, dear. Now, Benjamin, why don’t you tell Peter about what we’ve been discussing?”

“What you’ve been discussing?”

“Well… It’s simple, Peter. You… You’re very smart, so I know you’re probably aware how much we’ve been struggling with rent and bills.” Nodding in confirmation, Peter sees the man's shoulders relax as he leans back. “So, we’ve been thinking… What with me not having a stable income, and May only being on part-time hours… Maybe we need to downsize.”

“You’re selling the house?!”

“Peter, please, calm down.”

“But-”

“No, but’s, young man.”Biting his tongue as he holds back a complaint, Peter nods, waiting for Ben to continue. “We love this house, and all the memories it holds, but sometimes… sometimes you have to let things go. We talked with that boss of yours, Mister Jameson, and he helped us find a perfect little apartment to rent. Somewhere we can make new memories.”

“I… I understand… I guess I just didn’t think that the finances were that bad…”

“It’s no one's fault, dear,” May responds, putting a larger platter of mixed sandwiches on the table., “Besides, Mister Jameson said he’d help us with finding a stable job for your uncle Ben.”

Nodding in silence as he eats a triangular cut sandwich from the tray, Peter looks around the room solemnly. This weekend is really going to be the end of one part of his life and the start of something new, huh? No old home, no old friends, no old school. Everything’s about to become brand new, aside from the clothes on his back and the people supporting him. 

Hopefully, Harry doesn’t turn his back on him as well, after he finds out that Peter’s a mutant.

Chapter Text

He wouldn’t have called it the best night's sleep. No, after spending the evening with Aunt May and Uncle Ben, Peter couldn’t help but toss and turn at the revelation that they’re selling the house. It’s depressing. But it makes sense at the end of the day. As much as they would have loved to stay here, the rent is too high, and there’s too much space for just the two of them. 

Yawing as he rubs the sleep dust out of his eyes, he scratches his stomach as he walks down the creaking wooden steps of the house. His hand catches the railing as he spins around into the dining and living space, where Ben is sitting at the table, reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Mornin’,” Peter manages to say through a yawn as he sits down at the table, flopping back in the chair.

“Sit up. Did you not sleep well?”

“Got stuck thinkin’ about the house… all the memories. I would have gone out on patrol normally, but…”

“We made you promise to rest. Remember, Peter, with great power comes great responsibility,” Ben says, sipping his coffee before flicking the paper in his hands, “But you’ll lose that power if you don’t rest properly. Understand?”

“Yeah… It’s just… I’ve been getting antsy since I mutated. Something about needing to be doing something. Must be a spider trait.”

“Hmm… Well, maybe we should find a more peaceful way for you to channel that trait. For now, why don’t you tell us about what you’re planning to do today?”

“Hmm… Well, I’m going to go meet Harry for breakfast and juice at Jumbo… Maybe, I’ll see if I can stop by Spider-Man’s place, show him I’m doing alright.”

“Speaking of Spider-Man, he came by yesterday.”

“Huh? When?”

“In the morning, before you got back. He mentioned that he was sorry for not letting us know he was taking you under his ‘webs’ and that he’s happy that you’re getting to join a team. It’s something that he wishes he had more chances to do.”

“Huh…”

“Anyways, that sounds like a good idea. Just remember to come back for dinner, dear,” May says, her feet creaking against the floor as she comes around the corner, placing a plate in front of Ben, kissing his forehead before walking around the table and giving Peter a hug from behind.

“Thanks, May. I promise, I’ll be back soon.”

“Well, don’t come back too soon! I wouldn’t want you to upset Harry.”

“That’s true. Speaking of, I need to check which Jumbo we’re going to be meeting at…” Peter mutters as he rises from the seat, checking his clothes again before heading for the front door. Red hoodie with a grey shirt under it. Jeans. Yeah, he should be ready.

“Don’t forget your phone and keys,” Ben mentions, throwing the pair of items into the air behind him. Spinning, Peter fires a web at both objects, pulling them towards him as he hears a soft round of applause from May and Ben. Rubbing the back of his head, he pockets the items and waves at them as he begins to step out the door.

“Thanks, Ben! See you later!”

“Bye, Peter! Have fun!”

Smiling as he softly closes the door behind him, Peter pulls out his phone, flicking through his contacts. It’s a nice and peaceful morning. No noise, save for the occasional screech of tires, and the soft chittering of birds. It’s really nice. Humming to the sound, he buries his head in his phone, typing out a message as he starts walking through Forest Greens.

Which Jumbo are we hitting again? Lower Manhattan, Queens, Brooklyn?

Waiting for a few seconds, Peter narrowly dodges out of the way of a woman, also looking at her phone, as she angrily looks up at him, “WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING, PUNK!”

“Right back at you!” Peter yells back, shaking his head before muttering under his breath, “some people…”

Hey, Pete. My dad said he’ll drop me off at the Lower Manhattan one. Meet you in ten?

Make that five

Smirking as he looks at his watch, Peter ducks behind an alley, climbing the building next to it as he pulls his old, familiar Arachkid costume on. Launching himself into the air, he glides through the air. Subtle movement changes, the vibrations of wind currents. Logan told him to try to sense these subtleties in his everyday life. Although he guesses this doesn’t technically count since he’s in his old suit… Well, that doesn’t matter. 

Catching the light of the early morning sun, Peter glides in the black and green as he hops between the gentle upbursts of sea breeze. The distance between Froest Greens at Lower Manhattan would have taken him a while to get across before. Something that Harry would have known when setting up the meet at the Manhattan Jumbo Juice… Now, hang on a second. There’s something wrong; he can feel it. 

Shrugging the thought off as he lands on top of the building, he switches out of his costume into his normal clothes. Sliding down the side of the building, Peter sees the familiar form of Felicia, as she looks around the corner, sighing and looking annoyed. Sneaking up behind her, Peter leans over her shoulder and whispers into her ear.

“So… What are you looking for?”

Jumping like a startled cat, Felicia spins on her heels, pulling out a taser as she aims it at Peter, slowly lowering it as she looks around, frowning, “How did you… Wait, never mind. I know.”

“You… know?”

“...right. Secrets. So, I guess you can tell that this is a bit of a ploy, huh?”

“Kinda figured it was something Harry was setting up. He never tries to get me to a place I can’t get to quickly… Did you…?”

“No! That would be… a whole other can of worms. It’s… Well, you’ll see,” Felicia mutters, gesturing for Peter to follow her as they turn out of the alley,  “We were meant to warn him when you got here. Kinda of doesn’t work if you sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry, Little Cat.”

“Oh, shut it, Spider Brat.”

“Naw~ Look who’s being temperamental like a cat.”

“You seem way too confident. God, did getting a kiss really make you this insufferable?”

“That and the big Welcome Party I had with the X-Kids… I think you’d really fit in well, here…”

“...I’ll think about it, but don’t expect me to just suddenly show up.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyways… Ladies first,” Peter says, pushing open the door as he holds it for her, feeling her shoving him to try and get him to fall through with a dissatisfied humph when she sees him still on his feet. Waiting for her to enter, he quickly scans the room, trying to spot Harry. He must be here if-

“SURPRISE!”

Blinking, Peter looks around the room, seeing the familiar faces of all his friends gathering around him. The workers at the Jumbo Juice are silently clapping as Peter frowns in confusion.

“Uh…”

“Oh, come on, Pete. You can’t think that we wouldn’t come to celebrate you getting into some fancy school!” Harry says, slinging an arm around Peter's shoulder, the other still clinging to his crutch, “And who knows, maybe I’ll be able to convince my dad to get me enrolled there!”

“Wait, what?!”

“Honestly, Tiger, you’re the one person that deserves this more than anyone else.”

“Yeah, so come on! We’re going to party whilst you tell us about that school of yours!”

“Man, I’m gonna miss having you around to help with science and math homework,” Lonnie says, patting Peter on the back as he stumbles forward and into a chair.

“Well, I…” Peter begins, looking around at the group, seeing Gwen and Eddie slipping into the store from outside and shooting thumbs up at him, large smiles plastered across their faces. This wasn’t how this was meant to go. Sure, Felicia knows. He was going to tell Harry as well. He’s just… not sure if he’s willing to tell everyone about what’s been happening to him. Shooting a look towards Felicia, he silently wonders what he should say, seeing the girl subtly shrug back at him.

“Oooo~ Looks like you two have gotten close~!” Gwen says, humming as she grabs a drink from the table, sipping it before grimacing, mouthing the word bitter before passing it to Eddie.

“It’s not like-” Felicia begins to shout, cheeks flushing as she looks around and begins to compose herself, “It’s… It’s not like that…” she repeats, but Peter swears he can hear a muffled yet under the girl's breath. 

“Hmm~ I smell something juicy~! What, did you two secretly kiss~?” 

Eyes widening, Peter looks away from the group, the heat rising through his face. The tips of his ears burn, and his cheeks flood with red heat. A single burning thought spreads through his mind as he remembers last night, on the rooftop of the building two blocks away from the museum. The kiss from Black Cat to Arachkid… He knows he shouldn’t think of it as a kiss between him and Felicia, but… Glancing to his side, he sees the crimson hue of Felicia’s face, the whispers between the girls in his group of friends rising in giddy excitement. Great… How is he going to convince them now?

“I can’t believe puny Parker managed to-”

“Enough, Flash! Besides, it’s got to be a little exciting even for you.”

“Uh… right. Sorry…” Flash mutters, “Um… Congrats, Parker. I… I’m trying to work on myself… Mary Jane made a good point that I’m not exactly living up to my idol Spider-Man’s ideals…”

“Huh… Well, that’s good of you, Flash.”

“Uh… Right. Thanks, pu- I mean, Peter. Now, wanna tell us about this new school of yours? What's it like?”

“Uh…” Peter stutters, fumbling with his hands as he grabs a smoothie from the table and takes a long sip from the bittersweet liquid as he thinks of how to respond, “It’s… unique.”

Raising an eyebrow, Harry flops down on the bench next to Peter, sipping from his own smoothie, “Uh-huh… and where’s it located?”

“...Upstate…”

“Oh… wait, you’re moving out of NYC?!”

“Well… not permanently… how did you even figure out that I’d be joining this other school?”

“I mean, if you were scouted for something, it has to be a pretty strong academic school. Not to mention, you need to be joining an elite school if you want to become a top-grade scientist and inventor.”

“Yeah, Tiger. Kind of makes the most sense.”

“...Uh… right… Well, about that…”

“What is it? You can tell us anything, Pete.”

“It’s… You guys promise it won’t change what you think about me?”

“C’mon, man. There’s like, nothing that could make us hate you.”

“Yeah, man. Unlike some closed-minded people, we’re pretty flexible with our likes and dislikes!”

“Uh… so… Well… I’m…” Peter stutters. C’mon, just rip the band-aid off , he says to himself, “Alright, well, you know how I was sick on the field trip to Oscorp? Turns out it’s because my… mutant powers awakened…”

“Wait, you’re a mutant ?!”

“That’s so cool!”

“What can you do?!”

“Oh, um…” Peter begins to say. He should probably not say everything right? Maybe just a weaker power, “I can stick to anything. It’s… well, not the most impressive but it’s still enough that I’m allowed to join the school.”

“Damn. Guess I don’t have a chance of following you after all, huh?” Harry mutters,  sighing as he shakes the smoothie in front of him.

“Sorry, but unless you develop some kind of mutation…”

“So… Parker isn’t quite as puny as I thought, huh- OW!” Flash begins to say before he’s slammed in the ribs with an elbow from the scowling face of MJ.

“Yeah. So… this doesn’t change anything, right?”

“Well, aside from the fact that you're a mutant, not really. You just have to introduce us to the X-Men at some point.”

“...I’ll see what I can do. Oh, on that point, some of the X-Kids are big fans of you guys,” Peter says pointing at the members of Mary Jane’s as he leans back, feeling the tension leave his body, “And I might have mentioned that I know yuo guys.”

“Wait, what?! We have future X-Men as fans?! We’re so going places!”

“OH. MY. GOD! You have to introduce them to us! We need to see some of our super-powered fans!”

“Do I not count?” Peter mutters, raising an eyebrow as he watches the Mary Janes, minus Felicia, beginning to talk about their plans for their next concert. Frowning, Peter suddenly realises why it seemed so peaceful when he got up this morning, “You guys weren’t practising this morning! That’s why it was so quiet… So, yeah, I’ll let Bobby, Jubes and the others know that you’re up for a meet and greet after your next concert.”

“THERE’S MORE THAN TWO?!”

“Pretty sure there was… eight of them? I can’t remember. The welcoming party was… rough.”

“Rough? Wait, don’t tell me. Did you-”

“YOU GOT DRUNK?!”

Blinking as he looks at Eddie, the shocked expression on the blonde’s face tells him all he needs to know. Honestly, it’s not surprising. Peter was surprised that he got drunk as well. Not because of his metabolism, but because he’d always figured he’d be… well, law-abiding. 

“Yeah… It’s apparently this whole thing… That’s besides the point. I just kind of got caught up in the momentum that Chat and-”

“Chat? Who’s that?” Felicia asks, sitting up as she looks at him expectantly.

“Oh, she’s just this girl who can talk to animals. She’s kind of like this calm presence that helps everyone gel.”

“Hmm… Must be nice having someone calm around.” 

“Uh…” Peter says, watching as the silver-haired girl crosses her legs and looks away from him, a faint pout on her lips. He looks around the room at his friends, wondering what just happened. Seeing the disappointed looks on the other girls' faces, he has to have done something… right? Urgh. Why are people so difficult to understand?

“Anyways,” Harry begins to say, trying to bring the conversation back down, “does this mean you’re going to be an… well, you know,” he says, cautiously eyeing the room. The small crowd of people who are filtering into the building and ordering their morning coffee or juice. It is true that whilst some people are okay with knowing or being friends with mutants, a lot of them aren’t as well. It doesn’t help when the mutants have so many members that are… extreme in their theories of being superior. It breeds hatred. Peter does wonder why they, as mutants, are isolating themselves from the rest of humanity. Wouldn’t it be easier to spread positivity and try to integrate themselves into the world by working alongside the people? Fear of the unknown is real. Heck, he’s felt it when he got his powers. This isn’t how things should be… 

“Maybe. It’s definitely something that might be interesting for me to pursue, but realistically, with my abilities, it might be worth just trying to become a scientist and help from behind the scenes.”

“That makes sense… Plus, it means you can continue you dreams of making chemical compounds. Wouldn’t it also give you the ability to study the biology of mutants to determine things like potential mutations?”

“I… yeah, it’ll let me figure out more about unique fauna on Krakoa or more about how mutations are based on… there’s a lot that I can research through this.”

“Well, as long as you’re being treated well, I guess that’s all that matters, Pete,” Lonnie mentions, ruffling the hair of the teen. Pearl smiles shaking her head at the interaction. 

“I mean, if you have problems with any of them, you can always call on us to come help you,” Eddie mentions, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“And what are you going to do to a super-human?” Gwen remarks, smacking Eddie on the back of the head and pulling on his ear, “'Cause I know you aren’t going to be able to do much now, are you?”

“Urgh… Sorry, Pete. Apparently, I can’t fight for you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. None of you. That’s kind of what the teachers and professors are there for, anyway,” Peter mentions, sipping his smoothie and shooting a silent look to see if Felicia is still pouting, finding the girl staring blankly at her drink as she stirs it. He thinks that might be an improvement… Honestly, he’s not sure. How should he know? He’s only really met Felicia… four times? He has no clue what her personality is. Well, aside from being trained by the Prowler… 

“So, what do you want to do, Tiger? We could just sit, drink juice, maybe eat some food? You have anything to do?”

“Um… well, I’m going to meet up with this guy who's been helping me with everything… Oh, he runs a music study in Brooklyn and Harlem, so-”

“Wait, Mister Morales?” Gwen interrupts, raising an eyebrow at Peter.

“Uh… yeah? Why?”

“Aren’t we meant to be working on a concert with him at some point?” MJ says, looking at Felicia, “You mentioned something about it last session.”

“Yeah. He’s a nice guy. Didn’t know that he knew the X-Men, though.”

“Huh… Well, I was just going to go talk to him and thank him for his help and all.”

“Nice! Wanna help us set up the concert at the same time? You’ll get free tickets for you and your friends~” MJ says, smirking as she pulls out a pamphlet and slides it across the table towards Peter. Leaning over towards him, she begins to whisper into the brunette teen's ear, “Oh, and take Felicia with you. She’s a lil upset that you spent time with another girl… or girls. C’mon, Tiger, you can understand why, right?”

“Uh… no. I can’t.”

“Urgh… boys. You compliment another girl after you two must have had some kind of… romantic encounter with each other, right?”

Biting his tongue, Peter looks at the girl. He can definitely remember a romantic encounter… It probably doesn’t help that it was so close to the welcoming party. I mean, about two hours between the two events? Yeah, he’s screwed. Well, hopefully he can make this right then. Turning to look at the platinum-haired girl, he raises the pamphlet and smiles.

“So… wanna help me get this sorted?”

Chapter Text

Well, it could be worse. He wasn’t expecting to be taking Felicia to meet Spider-Man’s secret identity… well, they seem to already who each other, but it’s probably better for her to be introduced to him, in case something goes wrong. Contingencies. They only go wrong… once every hundred times. He’s not really sure. Honestly, he's just making up a statistic to make himself feel better.

“So… what did you think of Jumbo Juice?”

“It was alright.”

“That’s good, that’s good. You’re the backup singer and bassist for the band, right?”

“Yeah. Why, want an autograph because it’ll be calm ?”

“Okay, can you drop that?”

“Drop what?” Felica huffs, looking away as Peter narrows his eyes at her.

“I’m not playing into your jealousy, Fel. Chat and Cordelia are literally just friends, not that it should matter.”

“NOT THAT IT SHOULD-! URGH!” Felicia begins to scream before seeing the eyes of the people on the street shifting towards her. Biting her tongue until a faint red trail dips past her closed lips, she mutters something under her breath that Peter swears is ‘Stupid boys’ before continuing to walk.

“Alright, look, if this is about the whole… rooftop thing, then I’m sorry. Yes, I don’t think it should matter, it’s not like we’re committed to anything, right? But if it matters to you then… well, we can try and figure that out if you want…”

Clicking her tongue, the platinum-haired girl sighs, “No… you’re… you’re right. Sure, I met you first, but I’ve not exactly laid a claim on you… Can’t expect them to understand that when I’m not there either…” 

“And, I’m sorry that I wasn’t be considerate of how you might feel. It’s… well, my powers make it a little difficult.”

“Speaking of, why didn’t you explain the whole ordeal with everyone else?”

“It… didn’t feel right. If it was just you and Harry, sure, I might of, but…”

“Complicated?”

“Complicated,” Peter echoes, lightly kicking a stone on the pavement as they stop at a set of traffic lights, cars blurring past them. Looking over at Felicia, he sees her frowning, seeming to question the traffic, “What’s wrong? Not used to stopping for traffic?”

Slowly looking away from the traffic towards Peter, Felicia nods, her frown deepening, “It’s… well, either my luck is running out or you, mister , generate enough bad luck that my luck isn’t working.”

Blinking in surprise, Peter smirks, “Wait, your powers always work like this?”

“I mean, yeah. It’s a small amount of bad luck for the traffic, which is equivalent to having good luck not to need to stop walking.”

“Wait, you’re serious? You don’t normally have to wait?” Peter marvels as he sees the colour of the lights change, and he begins walking.

“Yep. So, you apparently generate enough bad luck to keep traffic going… or I guess you have enough good luck that it overrides it? It’s one of the two. Maybe something different as well, like you're overcharging my good luck abilities, so it’s now at zero. I don’t really know how this works.”

“If you-”

“Don’t you say it!”

“-came to Xavier’s-”

“LALALALALA!”

“-we could figure it out!”

“Would you stop pushing that school onto me? It’s becoming annoying, Spider.”

“C’mon, it’d be fun, Cat.”

“And I’m seriously regretting kissing you.”

“Rude.”

“For it to be rude, it has to be true.”

“ RUDE! ”

Smirking and letting out a quiet giggle, Felicia sticks out her tongue mockingly before skipping ahead of him. Her eyes shine, and for a second, Peter loses himself in the sapphire glow before blinking and snapping back to reality. Quickly jogging to catch up with her, he sighs dramatically gently slicing Felicia on the nose, watching her face scrunch up before she smacks him on the arm.

“So, did you fuck one of them?” 

“I'm sorry, but what?! That's like a huge 180! And-”

“Oh, relax, Spider. It's not that big of a deal. So, did you? Oh! Or maybe you did it with both of them~!”

“I didn't! I just got drunk from playing games and… they helped me change apparently,” Peter says, shaking his head, “What is up with these questions? A literal minute ago you were mad about it, and now you're… I don't know what to call this.”

“What? A girl can't be curious?”

“Not when their nickname is Cat.” 

“Touche. Still, you told me.”

Sighing, Peter continues walking, pushing past Felicia as she slowly turns, folding her arms behind her back as she catches up with him. Humming to herself as she sways back and forth, gently nudging her shoulder against his. He has to admit, she's very good at singing. Kind of makes sense when she's a singer… 

“Hmm… just thinking about something,” Felicia says, leaning her shoulder against Peter's.

“Which is…? I'm not a mind reader.”

“Why are we walking there?”

“I'm sorry, are you too good to walk?”

“No, but we have other ways to move around. Like the rooftops…”

“In broad daylight?”

“Urgh. Fine. Let's at least get a bus, or the metro, or something, because we're going to be ages if we walk all the way from Lower Manhattan to Harlem… or is it Brooklyn?”

“Uh…”

“You haven't checked?”

“Look, I was planning on swinging between the two till I find him…”

“Oh, so it's fine for you to be in your spandex in daylight? Hypocrite.”

“I didn't think the infamous Black Cat would want to be seen in public. Especially as a good girl.”

Seeing Felicia’s eyes widen for a second before settling into an uncomfortable frown, she huffs, “Yeah, yeah… let's just get something else to get there. I don't want to be walking for the better part of a day. Oh, and maybe message Miles about you coming to visit.”

“Right,” Peter responds, pulling out his phone as he watches Felicia walk over to a taxi stand, talking to one of the taxi drivers. Miles or Ganke? Ganke would probably be able to tell him… He'd also be pretty likely to know if Miles is busy with his other job.

Hey, Ganke! Just got back from a new school, not sure if Miles told you. Speaking of, where is he? Wanna talk to him about our other job. Thanks!

Clicking send, Peter is about to pocket the phone before it buzzes. That's a lot quicker than he was expecting. It’s kind of insane. Ganke must have already been on his phone. Flipping to the message Peter reads it, eyes flicking between the text and the excited, bubbly, borderline flirtatious way that Felica is talking to that taxi driver. Something about it… Not the time to be thinking about that.

Yo! Good to hear from you man! Miles told me that the Professor sent a message about you being a mutant! It explains so much about the changes we tested! Anyways, Miles isn’t at his second job. Pretty sure he said something about restocking one of the stores in Harlem whilst he tries to help his mum win the mayoral election. Hope I can see you soon!

Thanks, Ganke! I’ll stop by sometime with Miles. I’ve got to show you the X-Man version of my suit, it’s so cool. Hope you rest well today!

Knowing Miles' luck, I doubt it. We’ll gave some kind of villain show their ugly face. You good if I send you the det’s if you’re still in the city?

Yeah! Oh, and I might be bringing more than just me to help… We’ll see how things go with Miles

Oooo~ mystery! I love it! Talk soon!

Talk soon

Pocketing his phone, Peter jogs over to Felicia, wrapping an arm around her shoulders for a reason he’s not quite sure about himself. Smiling, his eyes narrowed behind the tinted lenses of his glasses, he assesses the sleazy, rotund man in front of him. The unflattering red and yellow Hawaiian shirt is buttoned down, revealing a large mess of curly chest hair. Peter half wonders if that’s where all of the missing hair from his bald head has gone. Well, aside from the sides, but even that’s patchy.

“Sup, so I just got the address, Fel.”

“Oh?” Felicia says, leaning into Peter, clearly feeling smug about what’s happening. That also annoys Peter. She’s deliberately pulling his strings, “So where are we going, baby ?”

Biting his tongue and shooting a forced smile at her, he looks towards the man, smile still plastered on his face, “Harlem, Spin That Track.” 

“Ah, musical talents, huh?”

“Yeah~ I’m a singer in a band and he’s just one of my groupies,” Felica says, gently raising a hand and squeezing Peter’s cheeks lightly, “Isn’t that right, baby ?”

“Yes,” he manages to say through gritted teeth as the man nods sagely, opening the door to the cab for them.

“I see, I see. Setting up a concert then? Spin That Track is an incredible place. Really unique. You know, when Miles set up the first store, I’d stop by and mix up beats in there. You really get to Spin That Track if you catch my meaning.”

“Oh, really? Sounds great,” Peter responds dryly, sliding into the seat next to Felicia. Looking out the window as he clicks his seatbelt into place, Peter lets out a small huff, hearing Felicia giggle next to him.

Sliding into the driving seat, the man clicks on his taxi monitor, slowly beginning to drive out of the taxi lane as they take off towards Harlem. It’s irritating. Why is he annoyed? Felicia is her own person; she can make her own decisions. It’s not like he has any place to judge her on flirting with this… seriously overweight and clearly old man. Although he definitely thinks that she can do better than this guy.

“Hmm… someone’s acting jealous,” Felicia whispers, blowing into his ear as she leans back and giggles as Peter starts swatting the air between them, “What? You’re little sixth sense not working?”

“Shut up…” Peter mumbles, frowning as he begins to focus, remembering the words of Logan as he begins to consciously activate his Spider-Sense. Damn, he wishes he could do thi to start with.

“Hmm… so… you definitely going to be coming to our next concert?”

“Yeah…”

“Gonna bring some friends?”

“Relax, most of them are dating each other, or aren’t into me.”

“Oh, nice. What should I be looking for on stage?”

“Hmm… they like making light confetti. That’s probably the most notable one.”

“Oh?” the man driving the taxi says, causing Peter to twitch in frustration as he realises he’s been listening to their conversation, “They’ve made some kind of light confetti technology? That would be really good for parties, no? Clean up isn’t needed for light. I’m just happy you didn’t say they were a mutant. I can’t stand those smug bastards.”

Making a mental note to design a light confetti gun or something similar, he bites his tongue, shooting a small glare at Felicia, “Yeah. If you’re at the next concert, you might see it.”

“Hoh-ho! I’ll see what I can do.”

Turning to look at Felicia, he lowers his voice, “Why do I get the feeling you’re choosing to use your power?”

Batting her eyelashes as she looks at him, she gives a innocent expression, “Me? Never. I’m a good girl .”

Scoffing at the words, Peter rolls his eyes as the taxi finishes its journey. Sliding into a spot just outside of Spin That Track, the taxi driver turns to look at the pair, smiling as he nods. 

“We’ve made it, and in record time no less! It’s like we had no traffic blocking our path at all. Strange how the universe works sometimes, no? Maybe it’s God’s will. Anyway, thank you for the information. How would you like to pay?”

“Cash,” Peter says, placing his arm in front of Felicia before she can respond, “How much?”

“32.50. But for you two, I will take 20.”

Thumbing out the change, Peter places it in the man’s outstretched hand, “I don’t believe in discounts unless theres a sign. Here.”

“Very well, my friend! Enjoy your date!”

“We will!” Felicia responds, pushing him out of the car before he can argue with the taxi driver.

Stumbling as he shakes off Felicia, the brunette teen looks at the taxi as it flies off down the road. Huffing as he turns towards the music store, he walks towards the building, ignoring Felicia, before his arm is grabbed by her.

“So, what was that about?” Peter asks, unsure as to why he's feeling upset.

“Hmm… the flirting or the dating?”

“Both! None of it! I don't know!”

“Then how am I going to help you?”

Sighing in frustration, Peter looks at Felicia and silently judges what was making him upset. Is it the fact that she was jealous for no reason? Is he jealous that she was flirting with the taxi driver? Damnit. All this thinking isn't getting him anywhere. So much for having super thinking. Useless brain.

“Forget it… It's nothing. Let's just go talk to Miles.”

Pushing open the door to the store, Peter begins wandering through the crowds of people playing with the various sound decks and musical tools that litter the store. Instruments and machines he's never seen before light up and glow with the pulse of the music. A stage with lights dancing across it pulses in the back of the room, a group of performers, or maybe testers, walking across the stage, playing with microphones and musical instruments.

“Hi there, and welcome to Spin. That. Track! The only place in NYC where you can perform and create in front of a live audience! We also specialise in unique sounds and digital blueprints, crafted by our boss, Miles Morales! How can I be of assistance to you today?” a young woman says, her curly black hair bouncing and framing her chocolate skin, the signature red, black and white uniform that looks between a basketball jersey and Spider-Man cameo hanging loosely off her body. 

“Oh, yes. Actually, we’ve come to see Mr Morales about a concert he said he’d be happy to help us set up.”

“Perfect!” the woman, who Peter manages to catch a glimpse of her name badge with the faint, slightly faded print of Bridgette on it, says as she turns around, skipping towards the counter in the corner of the room. Sliding a form out from a folder, she places it in front of the teens, smiling, “So, if Miles invited you, then you understand that he likes for you to design new sounds using his systems for the concert. What instruments does your band, the…”

“Mary Janes.”

“The Mary Janes use?”

“Guitar, bass, drums, keyboard. Oh, and a violin,” Peter rattles off, watching as the two girls look at each other.

“Okay, Mr boyfriend. You ain’t part of the band but you pay that much attention to it, huh?”

“It’s not-!”

“-anyway, that’s a pretty unique addition with the violin. We’ll match up your soundwaves with some Spun-Tech.”

“-like that…”

“Nice! Any chance we could see Miles as well? Pete wants to-”

“Pete? As in Peter Parker?”

“Uh… Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you say so! Miles has been super excited talking about his protegee. C’mon back! He said if ya ever showed up and he was in to just let you go up and meet him!”

Following the woman as she turns the corner towards the room labelled as ‘Staff Only’, pushing it open as she waits for the teens to follow. Giving Felicia a questioning look, Peter takes a step forward, mentally preparing himself and flicking his Spider-Sense on high alert in case something is about to happen. You can never be too careful. Not in New York, at least. Seeing the woman excitedly bounce around the room, picking up a coffee jug before making her way towards the back of the room, towards what Peter assumes is a junkyard. Or at least a pile of musical tech that isn’t in use or in need of repair. Man, this could do with a bit of organisation, he thinks to himself, picking up and moving some of the sound systems as he hears hushed conversation from further in the building. Peeking his head around the corner of the pile, Peter can almost hear his eyes widen as he looks at the large, sprawling space in front of him. It’s insane. A custom sound system. Tech that looks straight out of a sci-fi movie. And there, sitting in the middle on what Peter assumes is a web of construction materials, laced together with webbing. It does make him wonder how Miles identity isn’t public knowledge. 

“Miles! Peter’s here to see you!”

“Huh? I didn’t hear you, B. Sorry, the new sound tech is messing up and I can’t get the noises at the right volume,” he yells back, barely looking down at her as he continues tinkering with what Peter thinks is some kind of audio drone.

“I SAID, PETER’S HERE!”

“Oh!” Miles responds eyes lighting up as his perspective shifts, raising an eyebrow as he shoots finger guns between Peter and Felicia, “And that’s a pairing I never expected to see. Can I assume that this is about the Mary Janes accepting my offer to host them?”

“That and something to do with Ganke,” Peter responds, drawing a curious expression from the platinum-haired girl.

“I see… Hey, Bridgette, mind stepping out for a bit?”

“Sure thing, Boss. Oh, I brought you a coffee refill.” 

“Perf. I’ll get right to that,” Miles mentions as the woman waves and leaves the room, leaving the two teens alone with the older man, “So, this isn’t just a social call, huh?”

“Nah, it’s also me coming to tell you about the X-Men.”

“WHOA! Does she…?”

“Ah, right. Black Cat, meet Spider-Man.”

“HUH?!”

“That’s beside the point. Basically, I’m going to be on a rotating basis between you on the weekend and the X-Men on weekdays.”

“Oh, sure thing, Kid.”

“Spider, I… why are you introducing me to…” Felicia begins saying, visibly uncomfortable as she looks between the older man and teen, “ Spider-Man ?”

“Because you’re a mutant, and if something happens like with Frosh Pharoah…”

“Oh, whoa, back track. You two are the ones who dealt with that dude?”

“Yeah. Cat’s powers influence luck around her. I’m guessing her ‘good luck’ was me being nearby, and Frost Pharoah’s ‘bad luck’ was me being nearby, which obviously overlaps, so that’s why it happened.” 

“I’m so lost… Never mind that, you basically wanted to introduce me to provide her a new form of ‘good luck’ then?”

“Hopefully. She’s being stubborn about not coming to Xavier’s s we can find out more about her powers.”

“Well, fair play. You, Mary Janes, still looking for the concert stuff or…”

“Yeah, we’ll do it.”

“Oh, and Miles?”

“Yeah?” 

“Make sure it’s mutant-proof. I’ve got some… explosive friends that are going to be coming to the function.”

“I’d love to have some of the X-Men come by!”

“Can I mention that Spider-Man is throwing the party?”

“Hah! Sure. Let’s start talking about some noises from the city that you girls will want to work with.”

Shaking his head, Peter zips to the ceiling, looking at the sound system as he silently starts working, letting the pair below him start their discussion. It’s going to take a while. He can already tell. Man, he was hoping they could go on patrol today.

After thirty minutes of the two talking about audio files, and what the City that never sleeps sounds like at different hours of the day, they seem to be finished. Which is good.

Peter’s been running out of things to repair and do whilst waiting for them. He can’t help but feel a little proud of himself for the improvements and designs he's added to the audio system. He managed to reroute some kind of auxiliary power system into a more efficient one version that links to the audio output, turning the bass notes deeper and the vocals crisper. He’s honestly not sure how he managed this, but it works. And it sounds better. Not to mention the new addition of a rhythmically aligned subtitle rolling screen. Basically, something for those who are hard of hearing. He figured that Hailey would appreciate that.

“You, good Pete?”

“Yeah. Just cracking some bugs in your systems. I don’t really understand any of the audio shenanigans. So, how’d it go?”

“Not bad,” Felicia says, looking at the older man, “We’ve managed to figure out what audio files we’re going to be using to give the songs a… unique , one-off flair. At least for now, that is.”

“Great! So, are you also cool with the whole…”

“Yes. He said he’s going to-”

A sudden bleep on the side of Miles' wrists catches them all off guard, their heads spinning towards the source of the noise, a small watch, a spider design sprawled across it, as Peter raises an eyebrow.

“What? I’m popular, so it doesn’t raise many questions,” the caramel-skinned man responds, shrugging as he flicks through the notification, “So… you got your suit, Pete? Looks like we’ve got a bank robber that needs to be taught a lesson.”

Grinning as he slips the backpack off his back, pulling out the mask, Peter’s eyes gleam, “Oh, I’m always ready.”

“Then let’s do this, Arachkid!”

Chapter Text

Swinging through the city at speed is a challenge, but one that Peter has been getting more and more used to as the last two weeks have passed. Wait, that’s a good point. It’s only really been two weeks since he got his powers. Damn, his life has changed very quickly. Especially with how this has all been going. Spider-Man, Villains, X-Men, new friends, new classmates, people he’s inspiring, people who he’s been holding up. It’s kind of insane to think about the impact that he’s already having. And the fact that he kind of loves the pressure of it all. 

“Wake up, Kid! Villain at two o’clock!”

“Right, sorry!” Peter responds, turning his eyes towards the direction Miles yelled out to him, seeing the massive, red armoured figure in front of him, “Is that the Crimson Dynamo?”

“I don’t think so! I’m pretty sure Klaw managed to make and wear a crab suit. Now, he’s Krab Klaw. God, let’s hope he doesn’t add another K to the name I just made for him.”

“That does not look like a crab!” Peter responds, before the man in the mechanical suit turns, arm raised as a giant claw of what he thinks are sonic amplifiers aimed towards him, “Okay, I stand somewhat corrected! Although my point still stands, because that looks more like-”

VROOOOM BOOMMMMMM URNNNNnn!

A giant pearl of what he guesses is concentrated sound rips through the air, striking the swinging spider-duo back as they free fall in a dazed panic. He can’t hear. He can’t hear. It’s too loud. That thing is more like someone figured out how to take a pistol shrimp's snap and bring it above water. Stupid Klaw. He’s going to get a punch to the face. 

Flipping and turning, pulling out his web wings as he begins gliding between the sound currents, the power of which is apparently high enough to cause literal ripples in the air waves, Peter begins closing the distance between himself and the man. He can see Miles, swinging in, landing on the rooftop behind Klaw as he stops and looks between the two spider people, the face of his suit rippling as the lights where his mouth would be move. Is… Is he talking? Peter isn’t even able to tell if Miles is talking.

“UMMMM! I’M SORRY, BUT WE CAN’T HEAR YOU, MISTER KLAW! YOU’RE MACHINE IS TOO LOUD!”

Watching as the suit blinks, looking between the spider duo for a second, some kind of word seems to be released from the suit. If his intuition is correct…

“YEAH, THAT KLAW IS TOO LOUD, MAYBE BY A FEW HUNDRED DECIBELS.”

Watching as the man begins to look at the clawed appendage before adjusting a couple of dials on the Klaw, before looking between them, the suit makes the same light pattern as when he was speaking earlier.

“STILL TOO LOUD!”

Seeing the man shake his head, knocking his hand against the helmet of his suit a couple of times before going back to adjusting the dials, Peter feels his ears pop. Thank you, super healing. Or is it regeneration? Regardless, his hearing is coming back, at the grumble complaints of Klaw as he tries to adjust the volume are almost perfect. Looking at Miles and giving a slightly tilted head, he sees the man nod behind the mask.

“IS THIS BETTER?!” the man shouts back, his red armour glistening. Honestly, this wasn’t the villain in red he wanted to face first. That was Juggernaut, especially after finding out he was a mutant. Well, he’s not dead, so he’ll still have a chance at that. 

“WHAT?!”

“OH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!”

“NO, I’M PRETTY SURE THAT'S THE GUY ON THIRD.”

“WHO?!”

“CRYING OUT LOUD!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘ON THIRD’?!”

“NO, WHAT IS ON FIRST!”

“WHO?!”

“WHO IS ON-”

“OH YOU LITTLE-!” Klaw begins shouting, realisation dawning on his clunky, mechanical face. 

“I’m sorry, but I had to do it! You gave me too good of an opportunity and I need all the credits possible to pass my spider classes!”

“You… You make your sidekick pay you for training?!”

“Hey, whoa! I don’t do that!” Miles says as the crowd around them begins to whisper about how the hero is extorting the budding Arachkid. He swears that he can hear a couple of them discussing how JJ is right about Spider-Man, a few cries calling out that he’s a menace for charging a child to do what he does. 

“Hey, hey, hey! I never said I had to pay for classes. They’re more like… community college, but with free classes.”

“Exactly, and if he doesn’t turn up when I ask him to, he loses credits on his grade, which I will be posting on the web!” Miles says, firing a web towards Klaw as he pulls himself towards the armoured man, “This web that is!”

Slamming himself through the red armour of the audio-villain, Miles begins to dance around him, striking repeatedly to little to no effect. That’s interesting. Klaw must have created some kind of silica-based non-Newtonian fluid that he’s interlaced with his suit design, improving rigidity, increasing protection against voltages as well. It’s almost like he’s made this suit to specifically counter Spider-Man’s prowess. Maybe he even has a thermal signature detector in that big helmet… it would make sense. Not everyone is a genius, like Tony Stark or Reed Richards and has the ability to microsize the gear. Honestly, Peter’s pretty impressed with the design.

Caught watching, his body tenses and leaps out of the way suddenly, watching as a wave of sound blasts past him. Frowning as he begins webbing the flying cars, making sure they land as safely as possible, he turns back to the crab man.

“So, what’s the deal with the sound cannon?”

“It’s not a,” the man shudders, “‘sound cannon’ heuk! It’s a sophisticated evolution of the Shocker’s technology and my own, in the shape of a claw. I call it the Klaw Kannon!”

“That’s… with two K’s right?”

“Yes?”

“And you’re whole new aesthetic is a crab …” Miles adds, the fight slowing down for a second as Klaw begins piecing the information together, the lights on his mask in and an evident frown, before a shocked face of revelation strikes him.

“Oh, GOD DAMNIT! I’m sorry, Spider-Man, I didn’t mean to-”

“All good, man… Just, uh… let’s keep this to us, yeah?”

“And the thousands of people and police that are watching this…” Peter mutters, looking at the audience, gasping and recording the interaction. JJ is going to have a field day with this one.

“Can we just get to the fighting now?”

“Yeah, I think that’s probably for the best.”

Swinging in, Peter smacks the man in the head, kneeling down as he lets Miles bounce off his back and land an uppercut and sweeping kick. Zipping into the air, the black suit twirls in the air as the claw of Klaw swings down towards the teen. Flipping backwards, he twists, trying to land a barrage of punches to the man's side, the mechanical snarling response from the man ringing out before he slams towards him with his fist. Catching the punch, Peter’s body groans, leaning back and tilting as he hears the pavement cracking underneath him. 

Swinging down, Miles aims towards him, bioelectricity cackling as Klaw raises his cannon, firing a wave of sonic energy towards him, sending him flying back. The sound of something crashing into a car causes a wince from the younger man as he tries to swing a look in the direction he saw Spider-Man flying off in. 

Left .

Feeling the tingle of the cannon firing again, Peter twists, using the fist in his hands to twirl himself around the man, slamming a kick into the side of his face as he zips back. Eyes wide as he sees the cannon aimed directly at him, he raises a hand to try and zip away, watching as the black and red blur of Miles slams into the cannon, the sonic blast rocketing off into the sky. 

“Thanks for that.”

“No worries, man. Unlike real spiders, we’ve got to stick together.”

“Actually, fun arachnid fact, most spider species don’t eat each other, and if they do, it’s typically only females eating males.”

“Huh. Alright, then let's do this.”

Swinging back around, Miles gives Peter a boost, catching his arm and throwing him towards Klaw, allowing the teen to kick him in the chest, causing the large red tin man to stumble backwards. Catching him with his webs and yanking him back into place, the boy watches as the black and red blur of Spider-Man follows up, landing a couple of solid hits against Klaw’s mid-section before kicking the claw into the side a building and webbing it in place. Jumping up, Peter begins to join the attack, the two spiders landing a barrage of hits that Klaw barely manages to cover himself from. 

“ENOUGH!” Klaw yells, his noise echoing, the civilians covering their ears as a pulse of sonic energy ripples across the air. Faint cracks in the armour begin opening up, more speakers appearing.

“Oh, great. So you have surround sound.”

“Honestly, I would hate to be your neighbour.”

“It must be a nightmare!”

“Although rent would probably be cheap…”

“...On second thought, where do you live?”

“BLASTED SPIDERS!”

Ripping his arm free from the webs, Peter watches as Miles makes a shocked face, looking at the liberated cannon.

“Well, shoot. I was not expecting my strongest formula for fluids to be ripped out of.”

“What do you mean?!”

“Oh, just that we’re in for one hell of a challenge.”

“No, I get that. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT’S YOUR STRONGEST WEB FLUID?!”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We just have to pull that suit off of him, and we should be fine.”

Waving his arms in the air as he watches Miles shoot off to crack the crab, Peter sighs, groaning as he looks around the area. There’s got to be a better way to do this. Maybe he could make some kind of trap to stop him? But like Miles mentioned, the suit is capable of removing webbing. It’s also stupidly resistant to damage, so that’s also a no-go. Those sonic blasters hidden under the armour are doing a really good job of stopping the webs from sticking to the suit. Something about the frequency… Well, it’s not like he can change the vibrational patterns of his webs, can he?

“No… but I can feel them in the air. Oh, boy. Time to put what I’ve been working on into use,” he mutters to himself, leaping forward as he watches Miles dodging Klaw as he leaps around him, a light pole clasped in the hand of the iron giant, webbing attached to it as it gets stuck to the side of a building. 

Throwing himself forward, the teen slams his fist into the jaw of the man, trying to focus his senses on the moment. There has to be some kind of vibrational frequency leaking from where the sound blasters are. If he can just identify them all and web them shut… He just needs to get Klaw to actually begin firing the cannon again.

“Hey, ugly!”

“I’m not ugly!” Klaw retorts, his voice echoing through the grates of his mask.

“Then why are you wearing a mask?! Everyone knows who you are!”

“Because it’s fused to my face!”

“Whoa, wait, really?”

Grumbling, Klaw raises his klaw kannon, god Peter’s hating that name, the distinct vibrational patterns in the air raising the hairs on the back of his neck. He can sense a similar sensation rumbling through the suit. Now he just needs to-

“Look out!” he hears someone yell at him, feeling himself being pushed out of the way, as he turns and sees Spider-Man flying and tumbling against the dirt, his own body slamming hard against the concrete. Looking up at the suit of Klaw he grits his teeth, launching himself forward. Hesitation. Too much thinking. Stop it. Move, now.

Scuttling around the suit, Peter begins to web shut the hatches he could sense, the vibrations ofthe machines under the red plating flickering as Klaw tries to grab and smash him against the floor. The man’s intuition is good, but he’s faster. Moving around as he begins webbing the man to himself, he slowly leaps up, looking at the completely disarmed, or kinda disarmed, man now struggling to move as he stands up. Ignoring the cheering, Peter rushes through the crowd, hopping across the street as he looks for the body of Spider-Man, finding it firmly lodged in a crater on the side of a car. Without thinking, Peter pulls the man free, quickly zipping the pair into the air as he arrives on a nearby rooftop. 

“Damnit. My thinking is getting in the way. Alright, Pete. Pulse?” he pauses, feeling the vibrations of Miles' heart pumping, the soft murmured rise and fall of his lungs, and somehow, he can even feel that Spider-Man’s ribs are broken, “Well, that’s new. Uh… what did Wolvie say about healing factors again? Oh, right.” Pulling out a small vial from a pouch on his side, Peter silently thanks Logan for making him take it. Lifting up Miles’ mask slightly, he wafts the mixture under the man's nose, watching as he jolts awake, wincing at the pain.

“What just-?”

“Don’t worry. He’s incapacitated, for now. Um… I don’t know if you can do it, but I was told that if you focus slightly, you should be able to temporarily increase your healing factor. Wolverine trick.”

“And in all the time we’ve known each other, he’s never taught that to me…”Miles grumbles, concentrating on the pain. Peter places a hand over the damaged ribs, sensing the movements of the bones as they begin knitting themselves back together. That’s freaky. Freaky, but really useful. “Huh… who knew?”

“Weird… It does make you a little more tired, though, so be careful and don’t spam it a bunch.”

“Got it. Now, should we go check out your handiwork?”

Leaping down from the rooftop, the pair find the man trapped on the floor as he tries to wiggle out of the webbing. His movements stop, eyes fixing on the pair as he groans in frustration. The police seem to be mobilising as well, the cars being rolled forward to surround him.

“Well, looks like you’re in a sticky situation! That’ll teach you for trying to rob an electrical store.”

“Strange that he’s trying to rob an electrical store instead of a bank, though, isn’t it?”

“Banks are so last year,” the tin man grumbles back, seeming to have surrounded him to the capturing of his person.

“Well, that’s depressing. I guess it kind of makes sense if you think about how you’d normally have to clean the money you robbed, so if you just get what you want straight away…”

“Then it takes a lot less time to get the items you need. Right, make sense,” Peter says, sighing as he looks down.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, though. Regular criminals still try to rob banks. You’ll get a chance to put those lessons into action.”

“You’re right, you’re right… We should leave this to the cops now, right?”

“Yep. Fair thee well, foul villain!”

“CURSE YOU, SPIDER-MAN! And Arachkid!” the man yells out, Peter feeling a little annoyed about the fact that the villain didn’t curse him first. Not that he wants to be cursed, just it feels wrong considering he was the one who beat him. Stupid Klaw.

Walking through the crowd, high-fiving people and shooting finger guns at them as he imitates Miles’ movements. It’s fun being a hero. A lot of fun. Honestly, if he weren’t joining Xavier’s school, he could definitely skip the boring classes of Midtown to come out on the town and help Spidey. 

“...no, I’m telling you this isn’t right! The universe isn’t meant to be like this!” Peter hears someone muttering, his head turning on a swivel as he looks for the source of the voice. His eyes catch on a strangely suspicious person, which is surprisingly normal for New York. The man is wearing a trench coat, trying to make himself look small, despite the large frame underneath. His movements are erratic, almost… creepy in nature. But that comment about the universe? That’s what’s really caught his attention.

“Look, I’m saying he should be dead! In this kind of universe, we both know what’s meant to happen.”

A soft murmur, that Peter can’t hear, responds to the comment, the man gripping his nose with his gloved hand. The teen's eyes narrow, watching carefully as the blue fabric seems to ripple slightly around the fingers.

“I know, I know. But a canon event should be happening. So, if that’s the case, why hasn’t it? It’s like the universe itself is slowly ramping up to the collapse.”

Another murmur, and Peter feels himself stumble, tripping over something as Miles cocks his head and looks down at him. Smiling apologetically from behind the mask, he begins to follow the older man’s actions, shooting his webs up towards the top of one of the nearby skyscrapers. The continuation of the noise from the man shifts his attention back to the man, seeing him press something. A small, spiralling hexagon of orange vibrating light opens up, a cascade of what Peter can only assume are webs. His eyes widening as he realises that he should chase the man, he grunts, turning to push through the crowd.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” Miles yells over his shoulder, frowning as he sees Peter run off.

Leaping and twisting through the crowd, he makes his way towards the man leaping off a hot dog cart as he’s about to get on top of the man. His body stiffens, chilling as he hears the voice of the man cutting through the quiet hum of the portal.

“Yeah. We’ll have to see. After all, there can only be one. Spider-Man must die.”

Chapter Text

“It was wild, Fel! That dude… he was so… confident. Confident that Miles should be dead!” Peter whispers down the phone. His hands work tirelessly as he sprays webs around, packing his room up into boxes. The faint lines of webbing are pulled in as he makes sure to remove any fluid that spills from the web.

“And like I’ve been saying, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Explain it properly.”

“Right! So, you know Doctor Strange?”

“I stole the Wand of Watoomb from his fancy house, so yeah.”

“We’ll circle back to that-”

“I already returned it.”

“-but basically, the portals that the Doctor uses, this guy did as well! But, he opened a space into what looked like a mess of webs!”

“Which means?”

“The multiverse!”

“The multiverse?”

“The multiverse!” Peter says triumphantly, grabbing a pair of underwear and shoving it into one of the two boxes, “See, the idea that hit me instantly after seeing it. The multiverse doesn't have to be a bunch of layers or branches overlapping each other, but a web of connected stories and similar beats. It’s the layers of the world that shift and grow off of it!”

“I’m sorry, but respectfully, what the hell do you mean?”

“Think of it like there’s a spider god. Someone who weaves a massive web, but each of her children needs something to weave their webs off of, so they start using her web as a template, making their own subtle changes with their flair.”

“Which leads to a multiverse of finite possibilities, no?”

“ Only if the spiders are limited.”

“And you think that this guy has come from another universe to, what, kill Spider-Man? Why?”

“I don’t know! I just… I think I saw some kind of hybrid of the Punisher’s logo and Miles’ spider? Maybe in the multiverse, he’s something like a hunter of Spider-Men, looking to kill them for his own power! Like a vampire!”

“Oh, yeah, because there’s definitely no Spider-Women out there.”

“That’s not what I meant, Fel.”

“I know. Now tell me why you’re telling me this?”

Pausing as he finishes filling the boxes with clothes, awards and old memorabilia, Peter stands up looking around the empty room. The husk of where he grew up, even the punched-in hole from the time he accidentally knocked over one of his science trophies. Or the creaky floorboards under the sunlight. Sighing as he sits down on the mattress, looking over at the door where the pile of now twelve boxes rests, he thinks about it for a second.

“Because, you’re powers influence luck. I… I know I asked Miles to look out for you, but if that dude’s planning something…”

“You want me to help him avoid it. Alright, I’ll try my best, but no promises.”

“I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than one,” Felicia’s voice bites back, little to no venom behind her words as she hangs up the call. Sighing as he sets his phone back down, Peter picks up the permanent marker on the floor, scribbling a couple of letters on the top of the two boxes before webbing them up. X-Mansion, Storage.

Stepping out of his room, Peter shoulders his backpack, filled with clothes and other essentials. A cardboard box stuck to his arm, a trick Miles taught him on the way back from the battle with Klaw, as he rumbles down the hall. Creaking wood beneath his feet. Walking down the stairs, he enters the living room, where he hears the laughter of Aunt May and Uncle Ben as they talk about who knows what.

“Peter! Are you all packed for your big move?”

“I mean,” Peter says, motioning to the items stuck to his body.

“Ah, right, silly question. Now, dear, how about you help him with his stuff, hmm? We don’t need the neighbours knowing all about this.”

“Of course, of course,” Ben says, grabbing his knees and groaning as he starts to stand, taking the box attached to Peter’s arm as they slowly walk out to the porch, sitting down in the armchairs as they look at the dipping sun. “Sure is getting chilly on these winter nights, eh?”

“Yeah. It’s nice, though.”

“True. You made sure to pack more than one coat, right?”

“Uncle Ben.”

“I mean, I can’t have my nephew looking so out of place or smelling bad around all those fancy mutant women!”

“BEN!”

“Right, right. Sorry, just to keep this between you and me though, bud, those X-Men women sure do remind me of how your Aunt used to look back in the day.”

“BENJAMIN PARKER!” May’s voice cries out from behind them, the pair jumping out of their skins as they turn slowly to face the woman as she stands behind them, arms crossed.

“Sorry, honey. I just meant that none of them could ever hold a candle to your beauty, is all. It got me thinkin’ about the old days, dancing the Charleston in that diner…”

“Oh, or that night at the drive-in theatre…”

“Or the time-”

“Oh my god, stop, stop. This is getting kind of gross and I’m feeling a little creeped out honestly,” Peter says, shaking as the hairs on his body raise before slowly flattening out again.

“I’m sorry, Petie. You know how carried away the two of us can get sometimes.”

“And that’s exactly why I both love and hate this. Because it’s great to know how much you love each other, but also, I don’t need to hear about it…”

“That’s fair, my boy.”

Fearing the continuation of the display of affection, Peter shakes his head. His body moves, feet hitting the pavement as he stumbles forward and looks towards the sign. An engine hums. The powerful jets of the Blackbird break through the clouds as it begins to touch down in the middle of the road. 

“So there goes subtlety…” Peter mutters, looking around and seeing some children inside their houses, staring at the vehicle in awe. A few that were playing in the street a couple of feet away, talking about the X-Men.

Turning back up towards the porch, Uncle Ben places the box into Peter’s hands. Smiling, he looks at the pair as they stand tall, just at the top of the stairs. He has so much he wants to say to them. So much he needs to thank them for. Opening his mouth, he pauses, Aunt May’s hand already raised.

“Now, remember, Peter, this isn’t farewell. Not for now.”

“That’s right, champ. We’re still your family, your home. It’s just that the circle is getting a little bigger,” Ben adds, looking behind Peter, the boy turning to see Scott, dressed in full X-Men regalia, waiting for him.

“We are so proud of you. You’re going to do great things.”

“And just remember, with great power-”

“Comes great responsibility. I know Ben,” Peter finishes the sentence, hesitating before putting the box down and running up to the pair, hugging them, “I’m going to miss you guys.”

“You’ll be back on the weekends.”

“I know.”

Turning away, Peter walks towards the sleek black frame of the jet. It almost feels like he's skipping across the ground. Giving one last turn, he waves towards May and Ben. Their faces are smiling as they wave back. Dropping his head, he turns and looks at Scott.

“You all ready, kid?”

“Yep. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Good,” Scott responds, taking the cardboard boxes from Peter as they climb into the jet. Smiling as he sees the familiar faces of Rogue, Jean and Hank standing around the deck, he runs up. 

His skin runs cold. Lying in the middle of the room on a deck of who knows what is Logan.

“What happened?!”

“He took some kind of blast durin’ the mission. He should be alrigh’.”

“You say that, Rogue, but he’s normally awake by now.”

“I must agree with Jean on this one. Something about Sinister’s technology has been altered. It’s almost as if his powers have been altered and lowered. Maybe evn completely removed.”

“But… you’ve dealt with that kind of tech before, right? I remember hearing about the time Storm had her powers removed.”

“That is true, although Forge managed to reactivate them, this seems to be more of an issue with the material in his blood.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here, have a look at this chemical analysis I’ve been running,” the blue-furred man says, displaying something to him on a tablet, “can you see the unique chemical structure here? It’s like nothing I’ve ever encountered before.”

Taking the tablet as the Blackbird begins to take off, Scott takes the lead with piloting, Peter scans the information, sitting on the side of the table next to Logan. His mind races. Yeah. This isn’t normal. It’s almost like Terrigen, but… it’s been weakened. Turned into a more long-term poison to a mutant's system, and from what Peter can tell, the only way to counter it is with a healing factor.

“You’r’ lookin’ mighty intense there, Petie.”

“Who’d he take the bullet for?”

“Jeanie.”

Turning to look at Jean, he presses the tablet into her hands, “You’d be dead.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand. From my analysis-”

“You’re analysis is relying on the only sample of the material being embedded in one of if not the best, healing factor mutants on the planet. Logan’s system is the only reason he’s alive, not to mention he’s probably still awake.”

“What?!”

“See, from what I’m understanding, that is some kind of Terriegen meets executioner technology, made to neutralise a mutant within 24 hours, their powers slowly deteriorating over time. Sinister must have wanted to make Jean reliant on him, providing her with healing factor serum that enhances the body’s ability to regenerate from the damage.”

“Jesus…”

“And that’s not all,” Peter says, walking over and waving some smelling salts from his backpack under the man’s nose, watching as his face scrunches up, “He would have let you die if you didn’t comply.”

“Jesus… We knew Sinister was evil, but this …”

“Do you think you could synthesise an antidote?” Hanks asks, looking at Peter as the boy throws his bag onto one of the chairs.

“Not really. The problem is that the Inhumans are really the only people who truly understand Terrigen, so unless you have someone with a positive relationship with them…”

Watching as the adults look at each other, he rolls his sleeves up. The teen begins checking over Logan’s body, using the medical charts as a basis as he begins stabilising the broken ribs and arms. How is the Adamantium been broken? That’s even more confusing…

“...we know someone. We’ll try and get his help… What are you doing?”

“Setting his bones.”

“You don’t needa do that, hun.”

“True, normally we wouldn’t, but the adamantium is fractured, and I’m pretty sure the bones underneath are too. Look.”

“Those scans are from… Oh, those are new.”

“Like I said, his healing factor is fighting, but…”

“It ain’t enough. Damn, suga. You really know your stuff.”

“Not really. I just watched twelve medical videos at a time last night. It was the last thing Logan asked to test out to see if I could…” Peter responds, blinking as he subconsciously looks at the bandages and stitched-up body of Logan, “Well, okay. Guess he was right that I might be able to learn things faster.”

“You… learned how to do this overnight.”

“I wouldn’t call myself a licensed professional, but, yeah.”

“We really need to test the limits of your mental capacities. You’re old test scores already indicate an IQ second to very few individuals, but with the extra learning capacities…”

“Are you saying my IQ is being multiplied? That kind of makes sense. I’ve noticed that my problem-solving capabilities have drastically increased when I’m not doing anything.”

Smiling, Jean places a hand on his shoulder as he finishes the bandages. Moving away, he sits down on the chair next to his bag and boxes as he sighs. Well, that was an unexpected five minutes. 

Humming silently, watching as the adults in the aircraft fuss over the injured Wolverine as they continue to check the beeping scanners for any changes to the man’s vitals. The engine rumbles as Peter looks out of the window.

A large partition opens in the ground beneath the Blackbird, Scott carefully setting the plane down in the hangar. The buzz of the X-Mansion comes to life. Students, X-Men, and children begin coming out in droves as they surround the plane and begin to chatter around the vehicle.

Hefting the boxes under his arms, sticking one of them to the side like before, as he pushes out of the vehicle. It doesn’t take long before he’s surrounded by the X-Kids or, well, the Ne-X Gen as Peter his mind tries to keep up with all the questions and conversations from the kids.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m back, guys. Can we make some space so I can bring my stuff to my room?”

“Eyyy! Let me take one of these!” Bobby says, grabbing one of the boxes attached to Peter as he nods.

“Come on, Petie Pie. Let’s get you all settled back in before dinner!”

Looking back at the X-Men, still on the jet, looking out at the crowd as he catches Scott’s eye. Actually, he guesses it’s the man’s visor. Semantics. He can tell that they’re waiting for the rest of the kids to disperse. It makes sense. He’s not sure how they would react to seeing ht unconscious body of Wolverine. The man is seen as one of the toughest and most inspirational members of the team. 

If he’s injured and Peter didn’t understand what was going wrong with him, he’d have freaked out, too. He can help the X-Men here. He’s just going to take the lead for a bit and set up a clear path.

“Alright, alright, who wants to learn more about Spider-Man ? If you can help me put all my stuff away, then I’ll tell you a story about how I’ve helped him.”

“OH OH OH! ANYTHING?!”

“Aside from his identity or anything related to it!”

“Awesome!”

Looking back at the X-Men, he gives them a thumbs up as he starts ushering the rest of the various children. His eyes catch Illyana and Cordelia looking at him silently. There’s a silent understanding passing between the three as he sees the blonde and raven-haired girls beginning to help with ushering the others back into the mansion. Kitty gives Illyana a confused look as she’s pushed into the hallway before leading the rest of the thirty or so students through the halls.

Giving one last wave to the X-Men as they begin offloading their equipment. The stretcher with Logan on it, laced with hover technology. Peter finishes herding the group in, feeling Illyana punch his shoulder and giving him a sly smile before they shut the doors. 

It doesn’t really take that long for them to get his room sorted. In fact, the boxes only have his clothes in them, so theres really only stuff for him to put away. Walking out of his room, the chattering of Bobby, Jubilee, Kitty and Chat in the hall fills the air as Peter steps out and looks at the four.

“And the kids are?”

“Eating. Come on, it’s dinner time.”

Following the four down the now familiar mahogany and ivory halls, Peter feels the weight of his decisions kicking in. This is really happening. He’s becoming part of something far more than just him. He’s got to make sure he doesn’t mess this up. Not for himself, for them.

“Hope you’re cool with lasagna by the way,” Bobby mentions, nudging his shoulder with his as they walk, “We kind of have a lot of basic comfort foods. You know, because all of us mutants have super tragic backstories and all.”

“Wait, really?”

“I mean, I was a trust fund baby who got kicked out after I told my parents about my powers.”

“My parents died in a… well, what the police say was a car accident. I later found out that my parents were targeted because some people found out about my fireworks.”

“I was run out of my town when people discovered I was communicating with animals. I tried to join a travelling circus to, you know, survive but… well, they displayed me as a freak.”

Everyone turns to look at Kitty, seeing the girl huff and look away.

“What? I mean, I didn’t have that bad of an origin story. I was just abducted as a baby, but managed to phase away from my captor and back home.”

“I mean, that’s more tragic than me.”

“Oh? You have a less tragic origin than Little Miss Model Student?”

“I’m not a model student!”

“You get the grades, you are the grades.”

“Oh, for the love of Xavier.”

“Blasphemy!”

“Anyways,” Chat says, trying to bring the conversation back down as they look at Peter expectantly, “Your origin isn’t tragic?”

“Well, I mean, I got a little bit of bullying for being a nerd… My parents died when I was five, but honestly, I don’t really remember them aside from the fact that they worked for some government agency.”

“You’re the son of two super spies?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it!”

“Bobby. Focus. What happened after that?”

“Thats it. Just got bit by a spider, then suddenly, boom. X-Men.”

“Jesus, what I wouldn’t give to have a supporting community around me.”

“You already do, dipshit, or did you forget me, huh?” Jubilee says, gripping Bobby’s ear as he whimpers.

Laughing as they enter the dining room, Peter looks around the messy table, the sounds of people eating and talking making the room come to life. Way better than that one time he ate breakfast with just Kitty and Illyana, although that was less overwhelming.

Smiling, Peter sits down. A plate is passed to him, and a cup is passed to him. The room quiets down for a second as Charles clears his throat at the head of the table. He watches, waiting to see whatever is about to happen next, but something cold seems to run down his back. Shivering, Peter looks around before refocusing on the Professor.

“We would like to officially welcome a new student to Xavier’s Academy: Peter-”

BOOOM! 

VROOM

Clink…

The room falls silent, and the explosion that rocked the room fades as Peter quickly rises to his feet, looking around. His heart is pounding in his chest. Eyes widening, he gulps, hearing the cries and whimpers of the other kids in the room.

All of the X-Men. All of the adults are gone. Shimmering, blue lights fizzling out where they had been. 

“Oh, god. We’re in Left Behind .”

Chapter Text

Coughing, Peter looks around the smoking wreckage that used to be the X-Mansion. His mind is racing, but that doesn’t matter. Not right now. Looking around, ignoring the missing spots of Scott, Jean, Charles and- 

Not the time.

“IS EVERYONE OKAY?” Peter yells, looking around the room. The panic is palpable. Someone’s crying.

“No! My leg is-” Leaping over the table, Peter slides up next to the girl, seeing where part of the wall has landed on her. Assessing the damage in his mind before he looks around, he pulls out a length of wood from the section of collapsed wall.

“Hey, look at me, it’s going to be okay. Chat! Can you get the animals to bring the medical supplies?”

“On it!”

“Bobby, Jubilee, Kitty, Illyana, check the rest of the mansion for other damages and anyone you don’t see at the table!”

“Aye, aye!” 

“Да!”

“I’ll go through the walls to the left wing!”

“Bobby and I will start on the right!”

“Gabby! I’m going to need you to help lift people out from the rubble! Move them into the foyer if it isn’t too badly damaged, but if it is, I need you to lead them down to the Danger Room.”

“Okies, boss!” the small girl says, springing to her feet as she starts digging through the rubble and wreckage.

“Cordelia! Come here!” Peter yells, lifting up the debris and moving the small brunette girl that was trapped beneath it at the same time. The shock on her face is evident, looking between the beam and Peter as he waits for the goth girl.

“What is it?”

“Lean in.”

“Okay?”

Looking over as he cups a hand against her ear, Peter begins to whisper, “Can you use your telepathy on everyone here?”

“I-! That’s-!”

“Please.”

“...it’s a bit of a stretch, but I’ll try… what do you need me to do once I’ve connected?”

“Even if it’s individually, I need you to trigger the dopamine sections of their brains. We need to make them more anxious, nervous, excited, whatever, because they’ll move better than.”

“Oh, right… I’ll do my best, but I’m not Jean or the Professor, so-”

“That’s fine, do it one by one if you have to.”

Nodding, he watches as the girl turns on her heel, slowly walking around the room. She talks in a calm, soft voice as Peter sees the expressions on the kid's face shift. He’s not trying to stereotype, but it’s not what he was expecting. He was thinking that maybe she would be harsher, angrier.

“Am… is my leg going to be okay?” the girl in front of him whimpers. Silently, Peter smiles, ruffling her hair as he lays a piece of wood next to it.

“Uh-huh. It’ll be just fine once the pets bring me some bandages. What’s your name?”

“Sylvia…”

“And what’s your favourite animal, Sylvia?”

“PENGUIN!”

Looking over at Chat, he tilts his head in a questioning look as she nods. Well, that’ll be good, “Well, that’s a really cool animal.”

“Yeah! I love them from the Madagascar movies…”

“Oh! Did you know, Penguins only live in the Southern Hemisphere?”

“Hemis seer?”

“They only live in the South of the world! Isn’t that strange!”

“Really? They don’t live in the North Pole?”

“Nope! Not unless we place them there.”

As he continues talking to the girl, trying to keep her distracted, he hears a squawk. The sound of paddled feet hitting the floor behind him, as a black and white creature waddles up. In its peak, the penguin holds a first aid kit, or at least part of a first aid kit, which it gently places next to the teen before waddling over next to the girl.

“PENGUIN!”

“Now, why don’t you pet Mr. Penguin for a little bit whilst I fix up your leg?”

“YES!”

Swiftly, Peter begins wrapping her leg in bandages, holding the splint in place as he tries to ignore the crying and fire surrounding him. The chaos is fine. He can deal with that once everyone’s back. 

What he needs to figure out is who to turn to. Spider-Man? He doesn’t really have the capacity for that. The Avengers? There's… some bad blood there. Although they aren’t the X-Men… 

Oh, god. Are they going to become the X-Men? What if all the adults on the planet are gone? Is he going to have to lead them all? There are too many questions. Too many thoughts. Too many unknowns, not enough allies.

“There. All sorted. Um…” Peter says, clicking his fingers as he looks at a boy who’s been standing by them, “Sorry, I can’t remember your name, but could you help Sylvia?”

“Oh! Yes, Mr. Arachkid.”

Ignoring the Mr. added in front of Arachkid, Peter sighs as he sees the kids continue to get moved out of the room. Peter stands up. Damage assessment time. Swinging up into the sky, his webs flying across the room, he looks down at the mansion. That's… a lot of damage. Half of the building looks like it’s been cut up with multiple bombs of some sort. 

But that’s not the thing that’s worrying him. It’s the sounds. The normally quiet, dull nighttime noises of the area are gone. Instead, the heavy, thud-thud of footsteps and the thrum of some kind of propulsion system fill his ears. He’s not sure what’s going on, but something about this situation feels-

“SENTIENL!”

Flipping around as he hears the call, he spots the large, purple tin construct as it charges up to the X-Mansion. Great. Of course, it’s Sentinel’s. That either means Bastion is involved, or- 

Not the time to be thinking about that. 

Instead, he should focus on actually taking the damn thing down.

Swinging back down into the mansion, he runs into his room, seeing the large, gift-wrapped box on his bed as he thwips it towards him. Pulling it open and ignoring the welcoming card from the X-Men, he twirls around, pulling his clothes off as he changes into the suit, spinning and falling out of the window.

The blue suit shines, yellow lines of webbing spreading across the darker colour as he twirls. A large spider shaped in an X crosses his back and chest, legs meeting at the shoulders and just below the ribs. His green lenses gleam on the blue mask, still clenched in his hand, the yellow hexagonal patterns seeming to shift with the movements he makes.

Swinging across the side of the burning mansion, he sees the children running and screaming, shielded by some of the older teens. Throwing himself forward and pulling on the mask, he slams into the side of the construct's face, knocking it off balance. Landing and spreading his legs out for balance, Peter looks back at the mutants still standing behind him in awe.

“BUNKER! NOW!”

Watching as they seem to snap back, Peter presses the earpiece in his mask.

“I’ve got eyes on a Sentinel! How are you guys doing?”

“Not good! Sentinels on mine and Bobby’s end!” Jubilee responds, the sound of fireworks smacking against metal ringing through the earpiece.

“Same here! I’ve gotten everyone out and heading to the Danger Room but-”

“Keep going! We need to reconvene, so slowly fall back! Give the others a chance to get out and down, whilst we try to get back together!”

“HISAKO?! DANIELLE?!” 

“SAMUEL?! DOUG?!”

“Sounds like you guys got back up,” Peter responds as he begins twisting around the attacks of the Sentinel before catching its fist as he’s backed up against the wall, “Remember! Work together. Guide the kids who haven’t had practical training yet.”

“Got it!”

“Heard!”

“Keep retreating! We’ll meet back near the entrance to the Danger Room,” Peter responds before taking his hand away from the earpiece, and grunting. Pushing the hand back, he slams his fist forward, watching as cracks shatter up the arm of the Sentinel as it stumbles back, “Meanwhile, I’ll keep the opening safe.”

“Error. Error. Error. Unexpected mutant level. Recalibrating. Threat level assessed. Omega-Class mutant detected. Requesting immediate aid. Aid request denied. Requesting permission to self-destruct.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be-”

The body of the Sentinel begins glowing. Peter quickly fires some webs towards the kids who are still in the open. Launching them out of the way, he twists, covering his body as he braces himself.

The low rumble of the purple machine’s overheated body rings out as it erupts in a column of flame. His hands burn. His body groans. The suit that wraps around him tears slightly as shrapnel peppers the exterior. 

“Oh, come on! I just got this! It hasn’t even lost that new clothes smell and already smells like soot!”

Springing to his feet as he rolls back, Peter begins running through the wreckage, carefully throwing the kids and teens out of the blast radius. His Spider-Sense screams at him. Heavy thuds of feet landing, mixed with the propulsion of jets filling his ears, as he looks around the wreckage. 

Sentinels. Three of them.

And no sign of his friends. 

Well, that’s great, looks like he’s dealing with three of these things by himself. 

“So, clankers, I’ve got a question for you! How am I Omega-Class?! I’m not really that strong! I think…”

“Error. Telepathic surge imminent, executing target threat.”

“Okay, so you aren’t going to tell me…” 

“Don’t worry, Pete! We’re with you!” Cordelia says, her black and blue hair twirling as she pants, her eyes narrowing as she begins concentrating on the robots.

“Yeah, we’ll help you buy time!” a gelatinous blob with a human skeleton inside it murmurs, skin rippling as he speaks.

“As much as I appreciate the help, I’m not sure… Ah, screw it. Just listen to what I say, I’m not trying to get you two killed because of me, okay?”

“Yessir!”

“Whatever you say, Petie.”

“Good,” Peter says, standing between them as he stretches, “So, first thing first, I’m going to handle two of them-”

“WHAT?!”

“-so you two can defeat one of them, then you two will need to help take down another one.”

“You’re planning on fighting two Sentinel’s by yourself?!”

“I mean, I’ve done it before… in simulations.”

“But this is real!”

“And we’re out of other options, so trust in the me that trusts in you, yeah? Yeah! So, Cordelia, you can shock the things system with telepathy, right?”

“I can try and break it’s arms, I guess?”

“And… I’m gonna call you Glob-”

“I’m Robert.”

“-Right, so Glob, I’m assuming you can maybe squeeze into the Sentinel and take it apart.”

“Uh… it might be better for me just to throw my wax inside it so that it explodes…”

“...I’m sorry, you’re basically living C4?”

“Yeah…”

Staring at the sky for a second as he contemplates reality, Peter tilts his head and nods. Definitely needs to stop assuming the limits of some of these guys. They’re way more impressive than he was expecting.

“Never mind then, Cordelia, rip and tear, Glob, stick and boom. Alright, team, let’s move! TO ME, MY X-MEN!”

“We aren’t X-Men, but hey, let’s do this shit!”

“Language!” Peter responds to the black and blue-haired girl as he spins into the air. Slamming his feet into the face of one of the Sentinels on the left, he watches it stumble back and slam into the middle one as they crumble to the ground.

Floating in midair as he watches them, he can hear the faint noise of Glob and the kids being impressed at the display. Honestly, that doesn’t feel that impressive, but considering most of them haven’t seen real combat… yeah, it’s probably cool.

He watches as the Sentinels rise from the ground, the imprints in the ground shaking as they move. The faint sounds of explosions, mixing with smoke that stems from the Sentinel Cordelia and the purple blob teen, are fighting, obscuring his vision. 

Zipping to the wall, he looks down, seeing the battlefield. It’s going… No. He won’t even think about it in case something happens. Swinging down, he weaves a lattice around the Sentinels, scuttling around them as he delays and restricts their movements, his Spider-Sense on high alert as he twists and dodges around the fists as they slam into each other. 

“Error. Error. Friendly fire detected. Calculating.”

It’s kind of funny. They don’t expect to hurt each other, huh?

Swinging between the two giants, the spider twirls his webs. The strands connecting the constructs as they swing and are pulled towards each other, the shoulders colliding into their chests. Breathing out, Peter shoots two lines of web, hitting their faces. Shooting off between the two, he pulls on the webs. The Sentinels stagger, faces being pulled down towards he ground as massive clouds of dirt and dust erupt and spark against the open flames around the room.

Looking around the wreckage, Peter begins running, trying to find a new angle of attack. This is starting to get tiring. Fighting two Sentinels is doable, sure, but with how they’re starting to adapt to his fighting style? Not so much.

In fact, it’s scary. The Danger Room didn’t recognise the fighting style and adapt to it. It just adapted to his enhanced strength. This is more like fighting a robotic boxer that just won’t go down.

“GLOB! CORDELIA! HOW ARE YOU DOING?!”

“We’re working on it!” Cordelia shouts back. Turning, Peter sees the goth girl gritting her teeth, a psychic shield surrounding her and Glob as the Sentinel slams its fist against the shield. At least they’ve managed to destroy one of them, the smouldering stump where the arm had been jagged and torn around the edges.

Maybe he should help them.

They could use the help… probably.

Looking around, he spots a table, firing the webs as he swings it around and flings it at the Sentinel. Leaping up he slams his fist into the face of the Sentinel, seeing the flickering lights of it’s eyes flicker off briefly before reigniting. 

“There’s an opening!”

“THANKS!”

Swinging off, Peter gives one last look towards the two teens. That should-

Danger.

Flipping, Peter sees the open palm of one of the constructs that he grounded. Gritting his teeth as he braces for impact, the boy feels a hand against his back. He can feel himself being squashed. The two firm metal plates are pressing down. His back burns. He has to get out of this.

He can’t leave them to fend for themselves.

He can’t just-

“Aaaaah!” A loud, piercing scream rings out. A small explosion is followed by the crunch of wood. What was that?! NO! Not now!

Slamming his fists forward, he presses his legs against the palm of the Sentinel. The creaking groan of metal follows the movement. Crunching, twisting metal under Peter’s feet as he twists around. He runs along the purple arm, the damaged cracks running up it as he fires webs at the edges of the cracked armour. Pulling it back, he feels the Sentinel’s arm rip apart.

Turning as he swings the hand into the face of the construct, watching as it sparks and fizzles as it collapses to the floor. Landing on the floor, he looks towards the area where the scream came. A smoking crater lies in the middle of the floor.

His heart races.

That’s where Cordelia and Glob were.

They’re fine right? 

Definitely fine!

Shuffling through the rubble, Peter’s vision swims. The world blurs in and out of focus, as he ignores the stuttering of the Sentinels behind him. A skeleton. Fragments of what used to be Glob. Lying on top of a charred and scorched body.

Dropping to his knees, Peter stares at the corpses. This is his fault. He should have never let them try and help. He should have handled them by himself. He knew they’d never been in combat before.

He knew.

He . Knew.

“Peter…” a voice calls out, but he doesn’t know where from. He doesn’t care. Carefully, he lifts the bodies from the crater. 

“Fuck off…” Peter mumbles.

A fist from the Sentinel that killed them slides towards him. Without looking, his fist meets it. The metal joints creak, pop and fizzle, sparks flying across the sky as the Sentinel’s arm implodes. Electricity is flying into the sky as the teen carefully lays the two down in the hallway. He hears sobbing. Chat, he thinks.

Fuck this. 

Turning around, he looks up at the armless purple construct, its core glowing. Crouching, he leaps forward, grabbing its head as he flips it to the floor. Slamming his hand into the chest of the stuttering robot ,he pulls out its core. 

Glancing towards the last Sentinel, he watches as it moves back. His eyes narrow. It’s not getting away. Not this time. Not after what they’ve done. Webbing the pulsing core up, he spins, throwing it into the Sentinel. Pulling on the webs as it sticks to the Sentinel’s chest. His body rockets inside of it as he begins tearing through the construct, screaming in anger and frustration as he pummels the construct into a smoking pile of wreckage.

Staggering up from the wreckage, the head of the robot twitched in its death throes. Looking around, he sees the shock and awe of the teens around him. Ignoring them, he keeps walking. His suit is torn; that doesn’t matter. His fists are bleeding; that doesn’t matter. His heart is racing. That matters.

A vibration. 

Then another.

And another. 

He doesn’t need to do anything.

“PETER LOOK-” someone begins to yell, before the sound of an electrical pulse fries the Sentinel’s head. Keeping his head down, Peter walks over and kneels next to the bodies of Cordelia and Robert. He gently parts them, removing his mask as he looks up at Chat.

“Robert… he must have… tried to protect her. He blew up from the sparks…”

“It’s not his fault, it’s mine.”

“Peter-”

“Oi, kid. You missed one,” a rough voice behind him grumbles, the sound of combat boots and metal ringing out. Peter can sense the faint electrical pulse of cybernetics as he continues staring down at the charred remains.

“Didn’t. Just knew you’d be there.”

“Really? Well, good fucking shit then. No time to grovel and mourn the dead,” Cable says, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder as the teen turns and glares at him.

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because if you stay here, all of you will die. Well, aside from you, probably, but do you want that much blood on your hands?”

Narrowing his eyes, Peter stands up, looking at the man, “And why should I trust you? Why should any of us trust you?”

“Because I was sent from the future to save you all.”

“By who?”

Behind Cable, a blue flickering portal opens, a giant robotic spider mech walking through as Cable turns around. Peter can hear the man’s heart rate elevate in annoyance as he turns towards the person in the machine, her purple hair popping out as the mech opens up.

“Thought I told you not to come here, Penni.”

“C’mon, Cable. Where’s the fun in that?”

“This mission isn’t about fun. It’s about survival, and a princess like you ain’t gonna be able to handle it.”

“Try me. Me and SP//DR can handle anything!”

“Not what I mean, kid!”

“Yeah, then what did you mean, because to me, this looks like you could use my… help…” the purple-haired girl says, her relaxed and bubbly personality seeming to snap into focus. Her twirling stops, eyes glued to Peter as he frowns.

“What? Something wrong with my face?”

“Otou-san?”

“Shit…” Cable mutters, dragging his hand down his face as the crowd of teens looks at the purple-haired girl in shock and confusion, “This mission just got fucking complicated.”

Chapter Text

The flame licked the structure around the teenagers, and groans. Silence fills the air. Heavy. Thick. Nothing about this was what they trained for. Not that all of them have trained for this. 

“What are we going to do?”

“Where are we going to go?”

“Who’s that?

“How are we going to survive without the Professor or the X-Men?”

“Why is this happening?”

The questions are ringing out from the crowd. Each one stabs Peter like a dagger as he ignores Cable and the purple-haired girl, the man from the future called Penni. He doesn’t have time for this. He shouldn’t interact with people after this.

“I’m… I’m really sorry about Cordelia, Sophia…”

“Peter, you don’t need to-”

“But I do! I was the one who got them to help me. It’s my responsibility to get them out alive, and I failed.”

“Well… Robert’s okay…”

“What?!”

“I mean, of course he is. He’s not exactly easy to kill, so as long as a small piece of him survives, he can come back to life. It might just take a while.”

“Seriously…” Peter mumbles, looking at the skeleton as Kitty seems to be applying what looks like a small amount of the gelatinous slime that made up Robert. He sighs. What is he going to do?

“Are you gonna just ignore us, or are you going to listen?”

“Later. I’m assessing the damages.”

“You think that you have to do this all by yourself, huh? Seems like nothing’s changed there.”

“What does that mean?” Peter asks, turning to look at the man, seeing the smirk forming on his cybernetically enhanced face.

“I mean, ain’t you wondering why I’m here?”

The teen freezes, feeling himself being flanked by his teammates. Illyana, Kitty, Bobby, Gabby, and a few more teens he’s not quite sure of are lining up around him. Now, what is Cable talking about?

“From what I understand, you normally come back to the past during a mutant crisis, which begs the only other question: Why didn’t you show up to warn us about the blast?”

“‘Cause I can’t alter everything. I’ve tried, and some things shouldn’t be changed.”

“So the X-Men dying is for the best?”

“The X-Men aren’t dead. Look around you, kid. There are mutants here. They just need a leader.”

“Uh-huh. And you want to be that person?”

“I mean, it’s what I was sent here for. I’m an X-Men, have experience leading a team, and because I’m an adult, I have more wisdom than you. Besides, didn’t you take command of everyone and cause someone to die?”

Peter freezes, his throat growing dry as he processes the words the man just said before responding, “Sent here for by whom ? This feels so out of place from what I know about you.”

“You. Well, future you.”

Peter blinks. Looking around the group, he sighs. This is getting way too complicated for his liking. He needs to go somewhere else so they can talk about this a bit more thoroughly.

“Okay, well, we can talk about this later. Can we agree that we should move into the Danger Room for now?”

“Sure. It’s probably safe until more Sentinels show up. Bastion’s doing a pretty good job of exterminating mutants.”

Ignoring the comment, Peter turns, walking through the ashen corridors as he leads the rest of the kids. Cable’s right. He does meet the requirements that the mutants need at the moment. It’s just… does that make sense? 

He should also talk to that Penni girl. That comment. The one where she called him father in Japanese just felt… weird. Plus, if she really is his daughter, he needs her to leave. He doesn’t want to do something that would lead to her not existing. It would just feel wrong.

He needs to get this all sorted out. Then he can think about where they’re going and who they’re going to meet.

Opening the doors to the Danger Room, Peter is greeted with the sounds of snuffling kids and muffled crying. His eyes scan the room. Minor injuries, a couple look like they might have fractures. Damnit, this is going to take a while to sort out.

“Now that you’ve checked on them, can we get down to-”

“No. Kitty, medical supplies. The rest of you go with her. Cable, if you want to help, you’re helping fix up the kids who are hurt first. Then we can talk.”

“Tch. Damn pansy. Fine.”

Watching as the cyborg walks away, his red eye scanning the children, Peter feels someone touch his back. Flicking his eyes in that direction, he sees the purple-haired girl, standing in her suit as the suit shuffles nervously.

“You’re Penni? If I’m really your dad, then you need to not tell me anything about who you are aside from your abilities. I don’t want to cause a time paradox that leads to you not being born.”

“Oh, come on, Otou-san. You’re always like this… SP//DR can heal people using a medicinal spray. You said it was inspired by those old movies. I think it was… Star Wars ?”

Groaning as he drags a hand down his face at the comment, Peter nods. “Cool. Surface level or fractures as well?”

“...Surface.”

“Go around and spray the ones with worse injuries first. Good job.”

“Thanks!”

Watching as the mech slowly begins walking around, calling out for people who are minorly injured to come to her for healing, Peter leans against the wall. He’s tired. He wants to sleep. Why is he doing this? He’s not qualified to lead these people. 

No. He’s not leading. He’s making sure that everyone is healthy and able to move. 

He knows Cable isn’t the best at ensuring that people are healthy. It’s abundantly clear in all of the missions that he’s been on. But he is the only X-Men around. They should probably listen to him, since he’ll know what he’s doing.

“Uh, Pete?”

Turning to see Kitty, half-phased into the wall, he tilts his head.

“What?”

“You might wanna come check this out…”

Giving one last look to Cable and Penni as they argue about treatment, he reluctantly steps off the wall. This had better be worth it. He’s already feeling against the idea. Just because he doesn’t really know or trust either of the time travellers.

Moving through the sci-fi halls beneath the scorched bones of the mansion above, Peter makes his way towards the medical bay. Passing Hank's lab, cables still thrown about the ceiling in a chaotic mess. Various projects were left half finished.

His feet click against the cold chrome as he steps through the doors. Greeted by seven teens who are all surrounding a single medical bed. The panic in their voices is evident, and Peter can’t help but wonder why they’re panicking so much.

“Alright, I’m here. Now what's-” Peter begins saying, approaching the cot as he spots him.

Logan.

Sprawled out on the bed, still unconscious. That’s weird. So, not every adult is gone? Maybe it was just the X-Men in the main part of the mansion. Maybe they couldn’t find him.

“Dad?” Gabby asks, shaking the man’s shoulder as she tries to wake him.

“He’s fine, Gab’s.”

“Fine?! He’s unconscious! He should be-”

“I’ve… he was like this when they came to pick me up. I don’t know how long it’ll take for him to wake up, but… He’s stable. Terrigen exposure.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. We shouldn’t show him to the rest of the kids but…”

“We need to keep him safe. I would throw him into Limbo, but my demon hordes aren’t exactly peaceful.”

“We’ll just have to move by ourselves,” Peter says, looking around the room as he begins looking at the IV drips, pills and medical supplies that have been laid out around the man, “Let’s just hope the Blackbird’s still intact.”

“Want us to go check?” Kitty asks, tilting her head as she looks at him.

“...stick in twos, ideally one mobile, the other less. I don’t want any more…” Peter begins to say whilst biting back the comment he was about to make.

“Right, Jubilee, you know how the Blackbird works, right? Wanna come with?”

“Yep! Keep the comms channels open!”

Watching as Jubilee begins throwing around earpieces, Peter suddenly realises that not all of them have them. That’s… unfortunate. If Cordelia were here, she’d have been able to-

“Stop,” Bobby says, slapping the back of the brunette as he places the earpiece he received from Jubilee in his ear.

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You’re brooding, which we can’t have. Leave your self-hatred at the door, we need to survive.”

“I know that…”

“Then we’re doing this for Cordelia, got it?”

“...got it… I just… I’m thinking about what we need to do with her body as well. We can’t take it with us, unlike Wolverine, but…”

The door hisses open, Cable stepping through the door as he looks down at Logan and scoffs. Stepping into the room, the man looks at the kids, holding out a hand as Jubilee reluctantly gives him an earpiece.

“Of course, Logan is- So, have you given it any thought?”

“Yeah. Look, I don’t know if we can fully trust you. Not right now. Especially considering you knew this was going to happen and-”

“Some things can’t be changed, kid.”

“That doesn’t-! Never mind, just… keep as many of them alive as possible. Kitty and Jubilee are going to check the Blackbi-”

“No, I’ve handled that. The Blackbird is prepped. We’ve already begun moving the rest of the mutants onto the craft that can’t fly. Those that can need supervision,” Cable says, looking at Bobby. The boy looks around the room before pointing at himself.

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Sunspot. Currently, you’re the only mutant around with experience that can also fly. I would suggest Peter as well, but I feel you wouldn’t be able to keep up with the speeds.”

Stepping out of the room, Peter glances back, watching as Cable begins detailing his plans. This is good. This is what they need right now. Not someone who thought they could just step into the role of leading them. He’s not ready. 

His feet carry him back through the scorched mansion, ignoring the kids as they walk through the wreckage to gather what few belongings remain. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but he needs to keep moving. 

“Peter!”

“Not now.”

“But-”

“I said, not now!” Peter snaps, turning to face Kitty, seeing her face morph from confusion, to shock, to sadness, and finally landing on sympathetic.

“Peter… you’re crying.”

“I…” Peter raises a hand, wiping his eyes as he notices the streaks of fluid, “And?”

“Are you okay?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does! Do you really think that we can trust Cable to lead us? For him to not have his own objectives?”

“No, but what else can we do? We aren’t ready. The X-Men made that much clear.”

“Peter-”

“And this reinforces that! I mean, look around! The mansion is gone! We couldn’t even protect our home from some stupid Sentinels and yet we’re meant to be leading the rest of them?!”

“But no one died!”

“SOMEONE DID!” he yells, turning on the spot as he looks down. He knows where he is now, “someone did.”

“Peter, she knew the-”

“But that doesn’t matter. I let her fight. I said that she could help. I failed her. So if that shows I shouldn’t be in charge, then Cable can be.”

Walking away from the brunette girl, Peter scoops up the body of Cordelia, the ring of animals and flowers woven around her falling at her side. His feet drag through the dirt, rain slowly falling from the sky.

The hiss and pop of the flames being extinguished as the rain continues to pour. Random animals, ones that have survived the explosion, follow him out of the corpse of the mansion. A small gathering of animals parting around him.

His feet splash through the mud that’s thickening. He doesn’t care about that. Right now he needs to find somewhere to bury her. Looking ahead, his hair soaked from the rain is it runs down his face, mixing with the streams from his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ben… May… I wasn’t strong enough. I haven’t been able to do well yet…” Peter mutters as he finds a hill, a lone tree stretching to the heavens, as he lays the corpse under the hill. 

Slowly, laboriously, he digs. His bare hands are stretching and flexing under the material of his suit. Paws and claws join him. Chat’s own way of contributing to the farewell. He doesn’t blame her for not wanting to be in the same place as him at the moment. 

He has the power, but he failed to uphold the responsibility. Failed to be respected. Failed to be accountable. He has to do better. He needs to be better. He needs to find some space. Just somewhere where he can figure out how he can become the best version of himself.

Slowly moving the body into the freshly dug soil, Peter stands, looking down at the body of Cordelia as he gulps. This is it. This is the reminder. The place where it all begins again.

He let’s out a bitter laugh, looking at the rain clouds above him, “Damnit, Bobby… you really had to tempt fate with that tragic back story thing, huh?”

Giving one last look to the corpse, he nods to the animals, watching as they bury the girl. His hands grip a stone, placing it under the tree. His hand grips a nail he found, an old, rusted piece of scrap metal, as he begins carving. 

Here lies Cordelia Frost

Trusted friend, Dutiful Guardian

Telepathic mind.

May her memory live on in the minds 

of others.

And may we follow in her footsteps.

Standing up, Peter places the nail on the stone. His hands are shaking. He’s scared. Really scared. This is the first time he’s felt the consequences of his actions. And he’s not liking it.

“Goodbye, Cordelia… I’m sure everyone else will come by and say goodbye to you as well…”

With the last word leaving his lips, Peter closes his eyes, taking a deep breath in as he pulls the mask on. Until this is all sorted, he’s not Peter Parker. Until everyone else is safe, he’s Arachkid. 

Walking back into the basement, he walks on the ceiling, ignoring the cries of the children. They’re being looked after. He’s got business to do. Starting with understanding what Cable needs from them.

 “-now we’re going to squeeze all of you onto the plane, or at least as many as possible. We won’t have time to take everything with us, so make sure you only grab the essentials, especially considering the journey we are about to embark on is going to be a dangerous one,” Cable says, his robotic optic catching sight of Peter as he enters the room, “Ah! Pe-”

“Arachkid.”

“I’m-”

“Arachkid.”

Blinking, Cable’s eyes narrow as he watches Peter move through the room, leaning against a wall by himself. Concerned looks from the gathered teens as they glance at Peter and then back to Cable.

“Right… Then, as I was saying, we are going to need to be organised and fast. We have the important task of stopping Bastion and his army, which’ve been preparing to rid the world of mutants.” Looking over at Penni, Cable gets a thumbs up and from what Peter can tell, a data transfer as they begin to look over the group. “In addition, I have become aware that there may be someone within your batch of you mutan children who may be carrying a cosmic fragment, with the Eternals' name on it. We’ll be progressing towards that as well.”

“Is that not possibly Magik? She’s the queen of Limbo.”

“No, that’s a separate energy signature. This is something different. I won’t get into too many details, so that nothing changes between you all. Now, let’s sort it out. Gather only what you need. Equipment, weapons, clothes, medical supplies. Move it!”

Pushing off the wall, Peter begins wandering through the halls, ignoring the whispers and stares that follow him. It’s fine. He doesn’t need to be accepted. He’ll just do his job. Get everyone out of here, alright.

He can’t let his personal feelings dictate his actions anymore. 

Not right now.

Right now, he’s not able to become Scott. He’s not got the instincts, the capabilities. He’s been playing pretend, and now everyone knows it. Death is the end of all things. Well, aside from Valhalla, maybe. That’s something he’ll have to learn about if he dies fighting a villain.

Not that he plans to.

Although if he does meet Thor, he could ask. Maybe even see if the God of Thunder would be able to help him reconcile with Cordelia. It’s a long shot, but at the moment, it’s the only thing that seems like a benefit.

“Hey, Pete-”

“I’m Arachkid.”

“Okay, bud, but we need to talk,” Bobby says sliding in front of him as he looks at the mask, “take off the mask.”

“Not until the job’s done.”

“You don’t need to-”

“I do. I can’t just pretend none of this matters. It does. Even if it doesn’t to you, or to anyone else, Cable is right. I got Cordelia killed, and I have to live with that.”

“Bro…”

Shaking his head, Peter continues walking down the hall, gathering supplies as Bobby follows him. He can feel the other teen hovering around his shoulder, clearly thinking about something.

“Oh, and I think you jinxed me.”

“What?”

“The whole origin conversation? The fact that I didn’t have a tragic origin story? Looks like I’ve got one now.”

“That’s not what I-”

“I know,” Peter says, smiling beneath the mask, “I’m just teasing you about it. It’s not like you can actually cause something like this with a single comment… I think… Actually, that could be a mutant power that I’m not aware of, so I won’t say it’s impossible. Either way, it doesn’t change what’s happening.”

“And what’s that?”

Shrugging a couple of bags and boxes as he begins walking to the Blackbird, Peter looks back.

“That’s for me to know. Maybe you’ll figure it out.”

If Cable is leading the Ne-X Gen, like Scott. 

Peter needs to be Wolverine.

Chapter Text

The Blackbird hums with activity. What is normally just a small-scale scouting vehicle is suddenly packed with around fifty teens and kids. They’ve removed the car, some kind of Porsche that Cable was salivating over, from the lower bay. Something Peter didn’t even know the jet had. Now, he’s turned it into a makeshift medical and supplies area. It’s makeshift. Something that won’t really be overly usable, but at least it’s something.

In his left ear, he’s listening to videos. Old recordings from Hank about the functions of the Blackbird and how to fly it. It’s overlaid with other piloting guides. Vague videos he managed to pull up from the web as he plays through the catalogue.

Moving through the lower bay, the teen checks over Logan’s vitals. He can hear the whimpered complaints of the kids in the main part of the ship above them. He doesn’t really blame them. He can’t. They’re having to leave their home to who knows where. 

Well… Peter has a sinking feeling that he knows where this is going. He found some paperwork in the wreckage that… Makes everything a little complicated. Ideally, he’d have been able to confirm this but…

“You done getting Wolverine secured?” Cable’s voice asks from the earpiece. Peter glances up slightly to where the man is likely waiting to take off.

“Yeah. Have the dead been buried and seen off by their friends?” Peter asks, pressing the button on his own earpiece as he receives a hum of approval.

“Then let’s get this party started. Now, we’re heading towards the Bermuda Triangle. As much as I’d love to bring around all of these snivelling brats, we should probably not take them on a dangerous mission to hunt down the ones targeting mutants.”

“What are you suggesting?” Kitty’s voice asks. Peter begins climbing out of the medical bay into the cockpit as he sees the girl looking at Cable, her brunette hair pulled back into a single ponytail as she glares at the man. Illyana, Bobby and Sam all giving similar looks.

Although it also looks like the blonde girl might be throwing shady glares at him. He’s not sure if that’s concern or her typical demeanour. Maybe she’s angry at him? It’s hard to tell with Illyana.

Sliding into one of the chairs, Peter sis around waiting for the conversation to continue as he does some preflight checks. His hands glide over the console, not paying attention to the rest of the group.

“What are you doing?” Illyana asks, leaning over Peter’s shoulder as he takes off a panel with a screen on it and flips it over.

“Removing tracking on the Blackbird. I’d rather we didn’t get shot down. Also,” he continues, pulling out a laptop as he plugs the SSD Adaptor into he laptop with the chip from the plane already in it. Quickly typing out a series of commands, he places the chip back into the computer in the Blackbird, “I thought I’d add some mutant cloaking stuff. Make it so the Sentinels can’t see the fact that we’re carrying around a small legion of mutants around.”

“When did you learn to code like that?!” Bobby exclaims, looking at him in confusion.

“Half an hour ago. I listened to, like, thirty-two different How To guides on it.”

“...Alright, Arachkid’s newfound coding skills set aside… We’re going to need allies, and there’s one person who can help, and will help.”

“Magneto.”

“Bingo,” Cable says, pointing at Peter as he nods in approval.

“Wha-! We’re not giving the kids to Magneto and his Brotherhood! How do we know he won’t just-”

“Because I have this,” Peter says, pulling out a singed document. A deed, a declaration. Xavier’s will. “Provided the Professor is dead or in a state close to death, Magneto technically has full authority over the school.”

“Are you serious?! That can’t be legal.”

“It’s signed by the Professor and an attorney. Pretty sure it is. Plus, it has stipulations. The command of the X-Men falls to Scott, acting as a separate authority under the school. Magneto has no control over the X-Men and isn’t allowed to weaponise the students, or use them as political statements against anti-mutant protestors. It’s a loophole. One the forces Magneto to become good, or at least try to be.”

“But didn’t Bastion get rid of all adult mutants?” Illyana asks, cautiously reading over the document.

“No,” Cable says, throwing a display up in front of them, “Just the ones that he knew could get in his way: The X-Men.”

“But the Brotherhood-”

“Is led by a man who is willing to do anything to protect mutant-kind. Magneto, for all his flaws, is impressively good at destroying Sentinels.”

“Helps that he has Ferrokinetic powers and can crush them before they get too close or can adapt to him. You’d think Bastion would have realised he should be using non-ferrous materials for those Sentinels.”

There’s a pause. A silent breath as Kitty, Illyana, Bobby and Sam process the words of Cable and Peter. Peter doesn’t know how or why, but he’s bouncing his own thoughts off of Cable pretty easily.

It’s almost like his plan to become the Wolverine to Cable’s Cyclops is already kicking in.

Without the infighting, at least.

“I hate this.”

“No one said that you had to like the idea; it’s just the best case scenario in a terrible situation.”

Cable nods in agreement. “And I believe that all of us gathered here are in agreement that we don’t want any of the children on this plane to be injured in the conquest against Bastion.”

Illyana raises her, waiting for her chance to speak as she says, “So what if the Brotherhood decides it wants to help us with this problem, Нет?”

“Then we politely refuse and ask them to focus on raising the children into… well, functioning mutants.”

“And who are we keeping on this little, what, strike force?” 

“X-Force, actually,” Cable says, pressing a button on the side of his face as he continues, “And the main candidates so far are as follows: Peter Parker, Katherine Pryde, Illyana Rasputin, Roberto De Costa, Danielle Moonstar, Hisakio Ichiki, Samuel Guthrie, Gabrielle Kinney, Jonothon Starsmore, Douglas Ramsey, Tabitha Smith, Penni, and myself.”

The room fills with silence. Thirteen. And the weirdest part to Peter about this list is the lack of Jubilee on the team. She would be a really helpful team member to have, especially given her combat record and teamwork with everyone else.

“Why is Jub’s not part of the team?” Bobby asks, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Cable for an answer.

“Because we can’t trust the Brotherhood. With as much faith as we are putting in them, we still need some failsafes. Anyone of the people that haven’t been listed is either non-essential to the overall team since their role would overlap, or is a guardian of the children.”

“And, what about the rest of us you named?”

“You are the ones who have the potential to be the Eternal member we are safeguarding, or are essential to the progression of our future missions.”

Looking at the man, Peter shrugs, turning back to the console of the Blackbird. If they want to complain about what Cable’s doing, they can. Heck, he wants to complain about it, but he doesn’t see another option available to them. 

“So, you’re expecting us to go against all our teachings and side with the Brotherhood…” Kitty says, backing away with a sigh as she begins to phase through the wall, continuing, “Great. I’ll go tell the kids they’re going to be dropped off with the mutant terrorist.”

“And I’ll let the people who aren't joining us on this mission know they’re babysitting,” Bobby adds, following Kitty as he pauses before walking through the door. “Oh, and because you told me one of us needed to keep watch over the kids that are flying with us, I’ll keep up.”

Sam shakes his head, looking between Cable and Peter as he sighs, “Man, this is really fucked up, guys. I can’t believe that this is what you two think is right.” Slipping out of the room, he disappears into the main bay of the jet.

 “I have to agree, and I’m the queen of hell. One of them that is,” Illyana says, looking directly at Peter as she continues, “I would have thought you’d be better than this, Peter.”

Watching as she leaves the room, the teen sighs, interlacing his fingers as he rests his head on his hands. They’re not wrong to be questioning it. He doesn’t like it either, but what else are they meant to do? It’s not like they can stay at the mansion. There’s not really a good way to keep them all safe.

“You’re doing the right thing by letting me take control.”

“I know.”

“I also want to thank you for backing me up with the whole Magneto thing.”

“I… It’s nothing, just… I am worried about it. You can’t tell me that Magneto is really our best choice…”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Still…”

“Trust me. The future I’m from, well, let’s just say there’s going to be an unexpected ally joining us here.”

“I’m already regretting everything.”

Seeing the man shrug in response, Peter turns his attention back to flying the plane. It’s… weird. Technically, he shouldn’t be doing this because he hasn’t got a license but… Well, he’s the only one who can fly a plane.

Or at least the only one that knows the theory on flying one, at least.

Clicking on the overhead as he pulls down the speaker, he clicks the button in as he begins to speak, “Alright, guys. You might know me as Peter, but right now, I’m Arachkid, and my job is to keep you all safe. As I’m hoping you’ve been informed, we are going to be taking you somewhere safe.”

Clearing his throat as he continues, “Now, this is your preflight check. Please ensure you are sat down, all objects you’ve brought with you are secured, and you’re comfortable.”

“Let’s get this party into the sky!”

Giving the group in the cabin behind him a couple of seconds, he hears the heels of someone eagerly bouncing into the cockpit. Sitting down in the seat next to him, Penni looks over at him. 

Cable sat behind him, strapping in and clicking the seatbelt in.

“You know, you taught me how to fly a plane when I was little.”

“Penni-”

“And then I found you working on SP//DR, or, well, the spider inside of SP//DR and-”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh, yeah. There’s this spider that you said bit you when you were a kid and that activated your mutation and-”

“Okay, that’s enough. If you keep telling me about the future, it might change, right?”

“Oh… right…” Penni says, nervously looking between Peter and Cable, “I keep forgetting because we don’t hang out a lot any more.”

Sighing as he begins to pull the plane around, Peter looks out the window. Seriously. This girl is either an airhead or she’s super confused. Either way, she clearly isn’t able to understand the paradoxes she might cause.

“Have you considered that I, or future me, to be more accurate, was aware that you’re… what, sixteen? And that I remembered you coming to the past with Cable?”

“Huh? But why would… OH! Oh…”

“Yeah, it’s not about not wanting to interact with you, but more about me remembering that you’re going to be trying to tell me about the future.”

Hearing the strangled noise of the girl sinking into her seat in embarrassment, Peter chuckles. This is really going to be weird. Pressing his finger to his ear, he clears his throat.

“We all sat down and ready back there?”

“Good to go,” Kitty responds, a little drier and passive-aggressive than Peter would like. Wincing, he nods, realising that she can’t see the movement. He hears the purple-haired girl beside him giggle. 

“Let’s take this show on the road. Next stop is… where?”

Pressing a couple of buttons on his display, Cable throws the location details over to Peter, the glass on the ship lighting up with a waypath. Bahamas. Well, a little outside of the Bahamas, into the middle of nowhere. Right smack in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle.

“Are you sure? There’s nothing there.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“Great. So the reason that the place has so many vehicles going missing is because of a rogue mutant trying to protect what he thinks is his. I should put out some kind of APB to make sure the guy doesn’t blow us up.”

Seeing the man behind him nod in agreement, Peter begins to flick through the channels, creating a basic message. Just a form of communication for when they get closer to the triangle. 

His fingers glide over the console. The jet rumbles, the thrusters igniting as they begin to pull forward. It’s slow. Really slow. But the descent of the ramp opening up into the Blackbird’s runway is giving him a chance to look around.

Kitty, having clearly phased into the room at some point, sits behind him. Legs crossed and head turned away from him as she clearly waits for the plane to move. 

That’s not helpful.

Cable is busy fiddling with a tablet, making something or charting some kind of information. The data seems to filter past the man’s eye in a stream of numbers, a red blur of motion.

Well, at least he has a navigator, he guesses.

Penni is sitting in her chair, bouncing as she looks around excitedly. Their eyes meet, and she grins widely, grabbing her own controls for the plane as she sticks out her tongue in mock concentration.

“Can you fly?”

“Yeah, among, like, a hundred other things you and Mum taught me. It’s really fun, and also very similar to how SP//DR was designed to move.”

Well, that’s interesting. Seems like he’s done quite a bit of research and development since now and-

“Future problems.”

“Huh?”

“Thinking to myself.”

“You do that a lot.”

Laughing, genuinely, for the first time in a minute, Peter frowns to himself. Something about Penni is making him feel… He’s not sure what it is. Maybe it’s because she’s technically family.

It’s like she’s able to keep him grounded.

Or webbed may be more apt.

Humming to himself, Peter begins to pull up, the jet groaning as they begin to launch into the sky. Flicking on the cloaking tech inside the aircraft, he begins to trace the line of the flight path into the sky, heading towards the Bermuda Triangle.

His hands move and click the buttons of the craft until it’s course begins to correct. The autopilot, well, it’s more like a guided pilot, begins to hum to life as he reaches altitude. Standing, he looks out the sides, checking that Bobby and the five or six kids that are meant to be flying with him are still keeping up. 

The faint shimmer of Bobby pulls up to the window next to him, nodding as the others try and keep up around him. 

Peter clicks his earpiece, speaking into it as he looks at Bobby, “So, I’m going to upload a Google Maps guidance thing into your earpiece. It’s basically just going to let you track us if you need to stop to catch someone.” The brunette begins clicking a panel on one of the Blackbird's sides.  

“Gotcha… Well, that’s not a disturbing voice at all.”

“What?”

“Oh, you know, just how the voice is FREAKIN’ CYCLOPS!”

Blinking, Peter flicks over the panel, head tilted as he frowns. Opening his mouth as he looks back at the teen flying next to him, he continues, “I guess that’s just the voice that Hank chose for it… or maybe he’s the only one who volunteered?”

“Or maybe Cyclops is more of a narcissist than you expect,” Cable mutters, Peter throwing a glare at the man as he looks away.

“Either way, stay safe in the sky, Bobby.”

“You got it, Arachkid .”

Groaning at the slightly snarky response from the boy, Peter returns to the pilot chair, the seat swinging around as he leans his head back. The ceiling is just a series of levers and sparkling lights that indicate the various gauges that help with flying the plane. He glances over at Penni, seeing the girl fiddling with some kind of box, biting her cheek as she tries to concentrate. 

“What’s that?”

“Huh?”

“The box.”

“Oh, it’s this project you got me to work on… Well, future you. I don’t know what it’s meant to be, which is the annoying part… I’m hoping it has something to do with SP//DR… maybe some kind of high-tech advancement or something that unlocks some of the restricted features. You do that a lot.”

“Huh… Well, I won’t look at it then. Don’t want to give you any head start on it. Do you want to talk about something? You seem to be excited about stuff, but obviously we can’t talk about future things.”

Perking up, Penni puts the cube away into her bag, which Peter is only now seeing. It’s a bit weird. You’d expect that a backpack that’s jet black and contrasts with her entire vibrant purple, white and red aesthetic.

“Oh! Oh! So, I’m gonna ask you some questions then from- AH! Can’t say that part!” Penni says, clearly catching herself before saying something, “Um, so, how much of the future can I reference?”

“That’s a good question… I guess that as long as you don’t tell me anything that I can make an assumption from… So, I guess if you have siblings or anything that might tell me too much…”

“...Hmm… That’s annoying. It’s almost half of the questions I have that are gone now,” the girl says, placing a finger on her lip, crossing her legs as she tilts her head back and thinks, “What are Grandaunt May and Granduncle Ben like at this time?”

Blinking, Peter raises an eyebrow, “I doubt the answers are any different, but they’re great. They’re really supportive and even encouraged me to go to Xavier’s. They’re also just in the process of downsizing from their house into an apartment in Brooklyn… or Manhattan? I’m not really sure which it is.”

“AH! Then what about your type in women?”

“Uh… that’s a little…”

“Hah!” Penni says, laughing as she points at the door, “So you’ve always had the same type!”

“WHAT?! I didn’t even say any-”

“But you glanced at the door. I know who you were thinking about!”

Gritting his teeth, Peter sighs, relaxing as he shakes his head. Raising an eyebrow as he looks at Penni, he begins to speak again, “You know, that’s dangerously close to a question that could tell me about the future.”

“Eh, less so. The future you has told me about your past crushes a lot. It was kind of a big topic when I was a kid.”

“And now I’m annoyed because I want to know why that’s the case…”

“You set out the rules!”

Sighing, Peter hears a beeping. Turning in his chair, he sees the machine warning him of something. His eyebrows shoot up as he looks around. Has it already been two and a half hours? That doesn’t feel right. 

The jet comes to a juddering stop. Systems whining as they strain against an invisible force. Peter’s hands are gliding across the panels, trying to figure out what is happening, before a knock on the glass startled him.

Hovering in front of him, eyes narrowed, is a green-haired teen girl in a green and metallic outfit, with her hand outstretched.

“You stand before Polaris, daughter of Magneto. What do you want?”

Chapter Text

“Uh, hey!” Peter’s voice rings out over the comms as he watches Polaris hover in the air in front of them, “We’ve got a minor mutant problem, please stay calm whilst your captain and crew try to resolve the issue.”

“Really,” Cable says, raising an eyebrow as he sighs, “Humour? In this situation?”

“It’s a defence mechanism! I can’t control it!”

“What’s the problem?!” Kitty says, appearing in the room with Illyana as Bobby hovers next to the plane. Peter can hear him whispering to the other flying mutants to hide behind the jet as they look at the green-haired girl in front of them.

“Хм, she must be about our age, but look at how skimpy that-”

“Illy!”

“What? I’m the queen of Limbo, a realm filled with demons. I’ve seen crazier stuff than this. But I feel she’s very bold. Or foolish.”

“What’s the plan, Kid?” Bobby whispers into the comm.

“I… hang on, where’s the button for…?” Peter says, fiddling around with the console as he tries to find the right object, “Ah! There you are.”

Flicking on the button, a loud crackle of a speaker turning on rings out. The group collectively winces, and Peter notices that the girl holding them in the air seems to narrow her eyes.

He also notices that the grip on the jet seems weaker, almost like she’s not used to using her powers.

That’s something he might be able to exploit if needed.

“So, uh, hey! Sorry about that, still new to the whole Blackbird thing. I’ll turn down the volume next time.”

“What do you want, X-Men? My father and his brotherhood do not appreciate time wasting, nor do they approve of Charles or his methods.”

“Okay, cool, well firstly, the X-Men might be dead… or gone? I’m not really sure. It seems like all of the adult members of the X-Men have gone missing.”

Blinking, he watches the girl seeming to short circuit for a second as she processes the information.

“Is this… related to that Sentinel event that happened recently? Why come to us? We’re the sworn enemies of the X-Men.”

“Because it’s Charles Xavier’s final wish. We would really appreciate it if you could guide us to wherever it is we’re going so we can discuss this with Mr Lehnsherr in person.”

Peter waits, hands already hovering near the controls, mouthing a silent message to Penni to send out an attack order to Bobby if needed. His eyes glance at the girl, watching as she slowly lowers her hands, still having them slightly raised.

“Very well, let us go to Island M,” she says, eyes turning to look at the ocean, “If you can all promise not to cause any problems for us.”

“The same could be said to you,” Kitty mutters under her breath, turning as she walks back out to the kids. Illyana stands watching Kitty go, but turns, eyes looking over Polaris. Standing watch. 

Why? Peter’s not sure.

It’s not like it’s necessary.

“Alright, let’s do this then.”

It doesn’t take too long. Only a couple of minutes really. And then suddenly it appears. Almost like it’s rising out of the water. Actually, it seems to be doing exactly that. A collection of spiralling buildings that resemble shells. If anything, it reminds Peter of Atlantis.

Or what he imagines it would look like.

Aside from the darkness of the pillars. It looks more like a dark and twisted version of Atlantis. It’s suddenly making a lot of sense with how no one has been able to find him. Magneto’s island is hidden below the waves, using the magnetic materials in it to raise and make it fall when necessary.

“Welcome to Island M, home to the mutants.”

Setting the plan down, Peter turns off the ignition, looking at Cable. The man nods, standing as he begins to walk towards the rear exit of the plane. Oh boy. This is going to be fun to try to explain.

Hearing the commotion of the kids as they ask what's going on, the brunette teen looks over to Penni. He breathes out a sigh as he nods towards the man who’s just left the room.

“Is he always like that?”

“So are you at times, but yeah. It’s not exactly fun when he’s hyper-focused on a mission.”

“...I kind of understand how I would end up that way, but… well, I guess I’m not one to judge how Cable’s life will… was? Jeez, time travel is confusing. Is your suit, SP//DR, right? Resistant to magnetic manipulation, or would it be better to leave it here?”

“Uh…”

“I feel like I wouldn’t have given you the suit if you hadn’t read the manual I’d made for it… You have read the manual, right?”

“About that…”

“You stole it, didn’t you?”

“Well, it’s more like an extended borrowing…”

Sighing, Peter shakes his head, looking at Penni as he narrows his eyes. Walking out of the room, he hears the girl hopping behind him, the heels of her shoes clicking against the metal as they get into the main space. The hatch for the door is wide-open, Cable, Kitty, Illyana and Sam funnelling the kids and teens out of the plane.

Nodding as he passes the man, he continues out, swinging over the heads of the group.

“Hey! I can’t follow if you-” Penni tries to yell over the crowd, but it’s lost. Blended into the background of the murmuring from the various teens and children in the group.

It’s kind of interesting to know that she can’t use webs without her suit. 

He wonders if that’s true if he has more than one child. 

Turning as he gets to the face of the group, he gives a reassuring grip to one of the nervous teens at the front, patting their back as he passes them. His eyes lock onto where Polaris is hovering, slowly landing in front of them.

Something feels off.

He can’t quite place it, but there's a subtle… energy? Almost like a dark hum, and eyes staring at them. 

He doesn’t like it.

The heavy clicking of metal boots rings out across the clearing. Peter’s eyes snap to the source of the noise. Red and silver metallic armour. Imposing physique. Magneto clicks his way across the cobbles, his helmet gleaming in the midnight moonlight, eyes narrowed as he looks between Polris, the Blackbird and the group of children that have arrived on his island's shore.

“And pray tell, daughter, what have you brought back to us this time?” Magneto asks, looking over the teen as he gently pets her head.

“These children claim that the X-Men have died or gone missing. Supposedly, they bring something from Professor Xavier, a will, I presume.”

“Very well. You have done well, my child,” Magneto acknowledges, looking towards the group of children, “You have come to my shores for a truce? What is it that has brought you to the Island of the Brotherhood?”

“Charles Xavier and Bastion,” Cable says, pushing through the crowd to get to the front, “You were attacked by some of those Sentinels, right?”

“Ah, the time traveller. I see you have come to lead these children. We are aware of the Sentniels, although they did not threaten us. Why?”

“The X-Men are gone, and in the case of Charles' death or disappearance, he appointed you as the successor of his dream.”

A murmur rolls out from the group of children, shocked gasps mixing with the display. Of course, there was bound to be some amount of confusion. From what they’re aware, the two aren’t exactly on good terms. Heck, Peter doesn’t think they’re on great terms with each other.

“And why would you trust me with the lives of these children? You could just as easily have avoided coming here altogether.”

“Because someone needs to stop Bastion,” Cable says, walking forward as he looks at Magneto and continues, “And I know that whilst you want to stop him, you’d much rather protect mutant-kind. Therefore, I think you’d rather continue Xavier’s legacy, even if it doesn’t align directly with your goal.”

“Bold of you to talk about mutant-kind, time traveller. From what I know, you aren’t-”

“I am. Why do you think I’m a member of the X-Men?”

“...Fair enough. Then what is it that Charles requests that I do to honour his legacy?”

“Read it yourself,” Cable says, grabbing the paper from Peter and pressing it against Magneto’s chest.

The master of magnetism holds the paper, looking at the will. His expression remains unreadable before a soft sigh escapes his lips. Looking around the corner, he nods. Peter’s body tenses, a group of roughly twenty, maybe more mutants, pulling out of the shadowed bushes.

There’s the warning signal that was firing off into his brain.

“It seems like we are to have a change of ethics, my brethren. From this day forth, we will stop our actions of combat against mankind, in favour of raising mutants who can show mankind the era of their way.”

“Are you saying that we are going for a peaceful approach?” Sabretooth snarls, his hefty body lurching slightly, eyes flicking across the children, licking his lips as he looks at them. Peter steps between the group and the man, glaring at him from behind his mask as the man smirks. 

A shiver runs down the teen's spine.

Danger.

That’s what his Spider-Sense is telling him. But that’s fine. If it comes down to it, he’ll do everything he can and stop the man from hurting the children.

“Stand down, Victor. You will not be harming the children, lest you answer to me and the rest of the Brotherhood.”

“Tch. Fine…” the man says, sniffing the air as his eyebrows narrow. “Something don’t smell right… Almost like there’s… Logan.”

“Yes, Logan is here, but he isn’t conscious so-”

“Unfortunately, I will not allow you to leave Logan with us,” Magneto says, looking at the Blackbird. “After all, I do not want any unnecessary bloodshed between mutants to occur on my island.”

“I understand. We will take him with us,” Cable responds, bowing his head slightly as he looks back towards the group. “Alright, kids, those of you who have been told you’ll be going with us to hunt down Bastion, return to the Blackbird. The rest of you… Follow Arachkid.”

“Ah, Arahkid. I see, so you are Spider-Man’s protégé? And you are a mutant, unlike your mentor?”

“Yes,” Peter responds, looking at Magneto, his eyes catching the confused expression on Polaris’ face as she looks him over. “What about it?”

“Hmm… It’s interesting. You are not nearly as infuriating as the spider.”

“I can be if you want.”

“I would not.”

Smiling as he watches the Brotherhood’s faces twist in annoyance at the thought, Peter debates whether he should just try and be a bit more annoying. Just to see what their reaction would be. He frowns, seeing Magneto look down at Polaris, the two sharing a whispered conversation. The man sighs, nodding his head as he looks back at the X-Men. 

Clearing his throat, the man begins to talk again, “It has been brought to my attention that you all might be exhausted and require something of a break before embarking on your mission.”

“That would be welcome,” Cable says, looking back at the group.

“Very well. I will have to get Namor to gather up some more food… I presume fish is alright for you all?”

Seeing the collective nodding of heads, from the group the man hums. Turning on his feet as he starts to hover off, clearly expecting the rest of them to follow. Looking up at Cable, he begins to follow, leading the group as they fall in behind him. 

Peter already knows.

The rest of them are on edge.

It makes sense. They’re effectively walking into enemy territory. Or at least it used to be enemy territory, but now. Well, now it’s technically their greatest allies. The Brotherhood, well, if they decide to keep up with that name, flank them.

Humming to himself, he notices Polaris glancing back at him. His head tilts, eyebrow raising behind his mask as he tries to figure out what’s going through her mind. It was only about five minutes ago that she was being hostile to him, but suddenly she’s changed her mind?

“Can I help you?”

“Oh! Um… Well… It’s just…”

“My daughter, Lorna, is a big fan of Spider-Man,” Magneto interrupts with a sigh, “But why she is, I cannot tell you.”

“So you’re suddenly acting docile because you know I know Spider-Man?”

“Uh… Not just that… I was wondering if you could tell me more about him.”

“Honestly? I don’t think I should, aside from the fact that he helped to teach me how my powers work. Anything more than that would threaten the Spider-Code of not oversharing each other’s details.”

“Oh, I see…”

“If you have a message or something you’d like me to send to him, then I can.”

“I was… could you ask him why he does what he does, and how the pressure doesn’t get to him?”

“Oh, well, I know the answer to the first part, which is pretty… well, sad.” 

“Could you-”

“Lorna, perhaps you can ask him these questions over dinner.”

“Right. Sorry, Father.”

Humming as he watches the interaction, Peter feels the ground shake, the sound of the waves crashing around them as the island begins to sink. His eyes turn back, away from the forest ahead of them, watching as the tide begins to rise up. 

But oddly, it seems to be forming something of a barrier around the island instead of actually sinking it. That’s definitely not what he was expecting.

“A gift from Namor,” Magneto comments, seeing Peter’s interest. “It’s the same technology they use in Atlantis to allow the chosen few to visit.”

“Well, that’s cool. I’d love to look at the generator to understand how it works…”

“I bet you would.”

Sighing in defeat, Peter looks around the group, smiling as he tries to keep them moving. Ahead of them, the structure that looks almost like a fusion of castle and shell opens up. It’s grand, black marble, or at least Peter assumes it’s marble, walls opening in what looks like a hug.

It’s a little bit ominous.

So much so that he hopes the kids don’t get too scared by it.

Who’s he kidding? The kids are going to be terrified of the ominous dark tunnel, lit only by the small occasional flicker of torch light. Why they aren’t using electricity is beyond him. Especially considering there’s got to be some kind of generator powering the ocean protection that’s surrounding the island.

It’s a little weird, but who is he to judge when they’re walking into the house of international terrorists. Technically at least. God, this is going to be really weird to try and explain to people once they’ve sorted out this whole Bastion thing.

“Now, I would prefer it if you would make yourselves… presentable. Gentlemen, if you would follow me. Laddies follow Mystique,” Magneto says, nodding towards the blue skinned women, the scales of her form shifting as she turns into… Jean? Well, I guess that’s better than the alternative’s. This way, she at least looks like a familiar face. The kids will have an easier time following her.

“Now, if you would be amiable to it, let’s go to the changing room, girls. We’ve got a large selection of rather fancy dresses if that’s your style, or some other types of formal and casual-wear for those of you less inclined to dresses like myself.”

Watching as Jubilee and Kitty take the lead, gently helping the other girls move towards the women’s changing room. His eyes catch a glimpse of the theirs as they nod towards Magneto. Peter turns, giving one last wave towards them before bringing up the rear as they move towards the dressing room.

It’s a large, red bannered room, with curtains draped around the outside. A soft fire cackles in a hearth in the middle of the room, and dark wooden dressers line the edges. Layer after layer of formal clothes inside the dressers seem to shimmer faintly. Peter wonders if theres a faint amount of silver threaded into the clothes. It would explain why it has such a weird shimmer to it.

“Considering you weren’t expecting this,” Bobby says, looking around at the clothes, fingers rubbing the fabric between them as he nods. “You seem awfully well equipped for having a group of mutants suddenly show up.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of weird, man,” Sam says, crouching down as he rummages through a different dresser and pulls out a purple blazer, raising an eyebrow as he looks at Magneto, the man shrugging.

“When you are trying to save mutant kind, it is always better to have spare clothes for those who lack the proper attire. We have been preparing to take in any number of mutants that we can save from the human oppressors. Now, if you are finished with your oogling of the clothes, I would appreciate it if you could wear the attire we are providing you with,” Magneto says, turning and facing Cable, who’s standing in the corner of the room, unmoving with his arms crossed. “That includes you, time traveller.”

Hearing a grumble in response from the man, Peter watches as the group begins to change. It’s weird. He didn’t realise just how much his suit smelt of soot and ash when he was wearing it, but now that it’s off… Well, it’s pretty evident it could use a wash. 

Is it even washable?

He should have looked into that when he was looking through the folders at the X-Mansion. Well, maybe Bobby will know. Heck, he’s not even sure if he’ll be keeping this design, or if Cable will want them to have a slightly different style. The man does seem to like his black, red and yellow version of the X-Men suit.

But that’s not important right now.

Right now, he’s got a dinner with the devil.

Well, more like an underground cult.

Chapter Text

He’s not sure what concerns him more. The fact that Magneto, actually, he really should start calling him Erik, could look at him and instantly tell what his body measurements are or the fact that he chose to dress him in red and blue. 

That feels a bit weird in all honesty. Not because the suit doesn’t fit, or the red dress pants and blue tie over the white dress suit don’t look good. It’s the fact that he feels lighter. Almost like the clothes are magical in nature.

But that can’t be true… Right?

A low whistle rings out from behind him, and Peter turns to look at the source of the noise. Jono and Doug stand, dressed in their own formal wear, Jono in a blue and gold set, whilst Doug wears a more traditional black and gold.

Peter wonders why the two of them got normal suit designs… and why they have gold in their outfits. Why didn’t he get any kind of gold? In fact, looking around, it seems like he’s the only one dressed in what could be considered clown colours. Great. A supervillain, well, a former supervillain, seems to have a grudge against him.

“Damn, Pete, didn’t think you’d clean up so good!” Jono says, smirking as he does another look at the brunette, his black hair is frazzled, not combed in its normal manner as he gazes over the other teen.

“And I’ll say the colours are bold . Wonder why old man Mag chose the for you…” Doug says, running a hand through his swept back blonde hair and rubs his chin.

“I’m just wondering why I don’t have any gold, unlike all of you.”

Walking over, Bobby places a hand on Peter’s shoulder, frowning as he looks down before speaking, “Now that you mention it…”

“That is a weird one,” Sam adds, stretching and cracking his neck. “We all have gold in our, so what makes you so dif-”

“It is my view on your experiences,” Erik says, walking over as he examines the group before leaning down and straightening out Peter’s tie. “I am under the impression the rest of you are primarily moulded by the X-Men, whilst… Pete, was it? Seems to have been, at most, minor.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say-”

“Yet, you do not cling to the traditional values of the X-Men, do you? You are acting in a manner that makes me believe you value the world in the same manner as the Spider.”

“Well, look, I don’t actually know what these traditional values are from the X-Men, firstly.”

“To prompt peaceful coexistence between humans and mutants,” Bobby says, raising an eyebrow as he looks at Peter. “Didn’t one of them tell you that?”

“No… I was just told to be better and become something even greater. Plus, I don’t exactly see the difference between being a mutant and being human. At the end of the day, we’re all the same species, it’s just that some of us have unique traits… well, everyone does to a degree.”

“And that is why I have dressed you in red and blue. You do not bend a knee or have a conviction that truly aligns with my vision, red, or of Charles’, blue. I suppose you would be something… different .”

Humming as he looks around, Peter sees some of the other kids whispering to each other, clearly listening in. Cable stands, clearly uninterested in the events, which makes the brunette teen wonder, maybe what Erik is saying is true. 

Maybe in the future, he’s not an X-Man. 

He wouldn’t be surprised. 

With all the mistakes he seems to be making recently, it would make sense. As long as he doesn’t get taken over by a symbiote like Miles did, he’ll be fine. Well, even if he does get taken over by one, it’s not necessarily a message that he’ll turn evil.

In fact, he has at least one child. He does wonder if May and Ben know about Penni. Well, at least the future versions of them. He assumes that they’re all relatively close. He wouldn’t exactly want it to be any other way.

“Well, whatever. I guess that abnormality is what will make me stand out in the future.”

“You can say that again…” Cable mutters, almost inaudible, even with Peter’s enhanced hearing. Now that is a little bit concerning to hear.

“Well, then, my mutants, let us head to the banquet hall and begin with your indoctrination into our group.”

“Please don’t call it-”

“YOU HAVE A BANQUET HALL?!”

“Man, this is going to be sick! I bet the food’s awesome here as well.”

“Eh, the only real thing that I’d change about this place is the gloomy lighting. I mean, what’s wrong with some windows and a little natural light?” Bobby asks, looking around as the man dressed in the ornate black and purple suit glares at them. 

Peter sighs.

At least he’s not the one who’s getting told off this time. Well, it’s more like a glare of ‘shut up’ that Bobby got. Not that he particularly cares. It’s more like he’s finally getting the chance to not be scrutinised by the Brotherhood.

“If you are done conversing about the state of your new abode, we should continue towards the banquet hall. Consuming food and discussing the new direction of the X-Men under my authority will take precedent.”

“We’ve rebranded, old man,” Cable says, Peter scoffing as he thinks about how Cable isn’t exactly one to mention being old. “We’re the X-Force, and we don’t need your goddamned permission to go ahead and do what we’re already planning on doing.”

“Be that as it may, I would like to understand your intentions. Now that I am the leader of Mutantkind, I will not tolerate any indiscretions or negative impacts from those that fall under my command.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asks, watching as the man turns, hovering towards a door that seems to open through magic, although he knows that the door is being opened by the manipulation of the magnetic elements.

“I believe that with both Charles and Scott indisposed, I will be taking over in ensuring that your objectives are pure. Pure to Mutantkind’s ideals that is.”

And there it is.

The reason he’s feeling really uneasy about this entire situation. It’s not because the man in front of him doesn’t care about mutants; it’s because he cares too much. Peter does wonder if this is partially related to PTSD. It would make a lot more sense. He survived the holocaust and is now facing the prejudice that comes with being a mutant in the modern day.

He can feel his Spider-Sense flaring on and off like a light switch that hasn’t quite been turned off. 

And it scares him.

Humming to himself, he exits the regal red and black stone room, the dark wood cabinets looming and making the warm room stand out from the cold corridor they’re walking into.

His heels click against the carpet. The material beneath his shoes seems to do nothing to stop the sound of the stone hitting his heel. It’s a little unsettling. Maybe that’s why Erik is constantly floating all over the place. That or he’s doing it to sneak up on people. That’s also a potentially valid reason.

“...now, ladies, I hope that you are aware of the proper table etiquette. We must never move a chair for ourselves.”

Frowning at the sound of the unfamiliar voice from the corridor, Peter pokes his head around the conga line of boys in front of him. He was expecting to hear the voice of Jean, maybe Mystique. Not whoever that is.

“Ah, Emma. I didn’t believe that the White Queen herself would grace us with her presence,” Magneto says, walking into the room, gently moving towards her and kissing the back of her hand.

“Enough of the pleasantries, Erik. Would you please help me sit down? I’m famished,” the blonde woman Peter can now faintly see says. 

He can also see the highly disgruntled faces of the girls around her. Illyana in particular looks like she’s ready to throw a fit from having to wait. She’s dressed in an ornate yellow dress, a gold laurel wreath in her hair, and any signs of her gothic or punk aesthetic have been stripped away, save for a single, black and iron spiked bracelet on her left arm. He’s not even sure that it really is Illyana. He lets out a nervous chuckle, his eyes meeting Illyana’s as she throws a glare at him.

One that he instantly recognises as ‘Get over here and help me’. He’s seen Gwen and MJ make the exact same looks before, and honestly, he doesn’t always understand how or why. 

They’re all normally super-strong and independent women, but in some moments, when they meet equal or greater forces than themselves… It’s like they shrink. Except Illyana clearly looks like she’s ready to fight.

Standing next to her in a similar styled dress, but blue and gold this time, is Kitty. She seems to be less concerned with the situation and more about making sure that everyone is happy, happily chatting away with Chat, who’s in a pink and gold floral sundress, and the other girls, who are dressed in a weird assortment of varying styles. They aren’t uniformly interesting, and notably, none of them is wearing more casual clothes.

At the very least, he was expecting Illyana to rock up to this party in a simpler style… 

He wonders what happened, but he’s sure someone will tell him. 

Clearing his throat, Peter walks past the group towards Illyana, watching as Chat and Kitty’s attentions snap forward, their postures suddenly straightening as he pulls out a chair, letting Illyana sit.

“Since when did you wear dresses?” he whispers into the blonde's ear, ignoring the praise he’s receiving from Emma.

“Since that woman decided she owned me… I hate this. Please say I can change out of it.”

“I’m not in charge here, but I will say that I like the laurel wreath. Maybe you should consider it.”

“Don’t test your luck, Parker.”

Smirking, he steps back, pulling aside chairs for Kitty and Chat as well, watching as an amused smirk, combined with a raised eyebrow, crosses Emma’s face. It’s… weird. He’s not sure what to make of the expression, but it’s clearly… well, not good.

“Are you going to sit with us?”

“I don’t know,” Peter mutters back to Kitty, watching as the girl pouts slightly. “But I might stick around.”

“Seriously? A pun? Now?”

“Hey, someone’s got to balance out Miss I’m-covered-in-gold-and-I-hate-it!”

“Well, you’re certainly doing it dressed like a clown, Arachkid ,” Illyana shoots back, a smug look on her face as she hums to herself happily.

“Ouch?! I’m sensitive about the fact that Magneto practically called me a clown and an outsider already!”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re right. I totally don’t care. It is interesting, though, and it gets me wondering about the future, and Penni, and-”

“Um… Dad?” Penni says, peeking over at him from the corner, dressed in a purple dress, a veil of purple lace around her that looks a bit like spider silk. “Could you?”

“OH! Sorry, Penni! I just got a glare from Illyana and-”

“No, I get it. It’s just… I don’t want to annoy Ms Frost any more than I already have.”

Raising an eyebrow as he looks at the girls around him, he receives a head shake in response. Clearly, that’s a taboo topic for now. Great. More secrets to keep on this stupid island. He’s starting to wonder if this place is actually going to be good for them as a group.

“Alright, alright,” Peter relents, raising his hands into the air as he walks over and pulls out the chair for Penni. Seeing the girl smile, he ruffles her hair lightly, trying to not mess up the very simple styling of it, as he turns.

A spot on the table opposite the girls' presents itself, almost glowing with the faint sound of a choir in the background. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume it was a hallucination. 

More realistically, it’s one of the other mutants deliberately creating the effect to mess with him. 

Not that he cares.

Sitting down in the chair that seems to be magically preparing itself for him, he looks around the table, seeing Bobby nervously sitting opposite a clearly amused Jubilee. It seems that a lot of them are nervous about this.

Well, it is a lot more formal than any setting they used to have in the X-Mansion. 

“Now, children, let’s start with a simple question,” Emma says, sitting down towards the head of the table, Erik sitting next to her at the head as he begins to pour the two a glass of wine each. “Where is my dear sister, Coredlia? I believe that she was with your merry band, so I would expect to see her with you all.”

The silence seems to freeze. A heavy, thick tension fills the space as they all look at each other. None of them seems to want to speak. Peter knows more than anyone that he doesn’t want to. 

“I was also planning on providing you with all the support of the Hellfire Club, so, if you would please explain where she is… well, things won’t end up as strained between our groups.”

“She’s dead,” Cable snaps, looking at the woman as his eyes narrow, the grip on his bicep tightening as the fabric strains. “Bastion’s new Sentinels attacked the X-Mansion after the X-Men vanished. She tried her best to save everyone, just as she was being trained to. You happy now?”

“Far from it,” Emma responds, eyes narrowing as she grips the table. Peter can see her body faintly shimmering, making him think that’s because of her ability to turn into a diamond. “If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m now going to be a role model for these children, I would be reaching across the table to choke slam you into the ground.”

“Try it if you can, princess.”

“Now, my question is, which one of you is responsible for her death. Whilst she may have been the black sheep of our family, she was still family.”

Raising his hand, Peter struggles as Bobby and Sam try to lower it, pulling desperately at the edge of his dress shirt.

“I was the one who let her get into the fight. I knew it was reckless, and was giving the commands to the others to not do anything reckless, but-”

“Peter was forced to fight three Sentinels by himself,” Kitty interrupts, shooting him a look to shut up as he bites his tongue. The faint taste of iron fills his mouth as he looks away. “What would you expect Cordelia or Robert to do?” 

“Well, well. I thought I already told you all not to talk out of turn. It’s… unsightly. Not to mention how those two gentlemen tried to lower, Peter was it? Peter’s arm. It’s unbecoming. But I shall let it go this time. Cordelia always had an unusually heroic streak to her… even if she didn’t tend to show it. Which begs the question, why did she for you?” Emma says, looking the boy over, before nodding. “I guess we also have similarities.”

Feeling a shiver run up his spine, Peter tenses. His senses tell him he should be avoiding Emma at all costs right now. And it seems like some of the others have noticed it as well.

The slight shift in tension in the group is palpable. Almost indescribable. The soft click of porcelain plates being placed on top of the marble table snaps his attention and the others towards the other end of the table. Waddling in, a group of weird, plant-looking bulbs walk across the room, placing down a banquet of fish and pork, side dishes of food that he’s never seen before.

Ethnic cuisine, through and through. There’s no way that he would have seen these before. 

The rumbling of someone’s stomach fills the silence that had fallen over the room. 

Jubilee nervously scratches the back of her head, shrugging as she looks over the food. “What? We haven’t eaten in a couple of hours, and we were just about to have dinner when everything kicked off…”

“That’s true…”

“Well then, indulge in the banquet that I, Namor, have gathered for you,” a man says, the sound of his feet hitting the stone floor ringing out in wet slaps. Looking over the man, Peter realises two things. First, he’s a lot shorter than Peter was expecting him to be. The second, the small wings that he saw attached to the man’s feet in the videos and images of him are a lot bigger than they appeared to be. 

“Uh… thank you, Mr Namor,” Jubilee says, looking up at the table towards Emma, watching as the woman begins to delicately place food on her plate in what is a clear, deliberate manner. It’s precise. A lot more than Peter was expecting.

But again, his only real experience with high-end dining was with Harry and Norman. And even then, they were so relaxed about the rules around etiquette that he never actually learned anything. They literally ate pizzas out of the box, whilst walking around, in the middle of the penthouse apartment and playing games like pool and darts. 

It’s kind of funny the difference.

“Well then, if you’ve all gathered your food, we shall converse once the meal has been completed.”

“But I thought-”

“Meals are to be eaten in silence, with no exceptions.”

“That is the first of the new rules you’ll be subjected to,” Erik continues, cutting into a piece of fish. “You will learn what it means to fit into the etiquette of the superior race. Of mutantkind. Of the tradition we are building.”

“Oh, great…” Peter mumbles under his breath, cutting into a vegetable that he assumes is some kind of asparagus. “This is going to be torture.”

How are they expecting them to all be uniform when each of their powers is so different?

Chapter Text

The dinner was a tense affair of whispered words woven weakly wafting into the room. It’s almost like this place sucks the life out of the party. Well, it might be the old, greying man who was at the head of the table having that effect. Maybe because he has some kind of life-stealing second mutation… 

How else would he be able to look so young and have a daughter Peter’s age?

Unless there's some sort of mutant rebirth mechanic that the teen isn’t aware of. Being this inexperienced in mutant affairs is kind of starting to be a problem. One that he is really hoping that he can rectify.

Sighing, Peter pushes up the door, opening into the living space. The walls in here are at least brighter than the other rooms. In fact, it looks like the room is mainly for teens, considering the consoles under the large TV, the numerous toys and posters from cartoons and sitcoms lining the room.

If anything, he imagines that it would be something to do with Polaris, ah, well, actually, he should be calling her Lorna now, right?

“God, that was miserable,” Illyana says, leaning against the brunette teen's shoulder as she slumps forward. Her hand reaches up, pulling the golden laurel from her head and casting it into the room, watching as it clinks and clatters against the stone floor.

“HEY! BE CAREFUL!” the green-haired girl walking alongside him begins to ask, looking up at him before looking away as the teens filter into the room. 

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t damage any of your precious belongings,” Illyana says, flopping onto a beanbag. Luckily, they’d had enough time to change into… well, what Erik and Emma considered less formal wear. 

“OH! You have the new Mario Kart! C’mon, Bob’s let’s go kick some butt!”

“Hey, wait for me, Jube’s!”

“Ah! Urgh…”

Humming to himself, Peter watches as Lorna fumbles, trying to figure out what to do as the teens spread out, looking at what is clearly her stuff, as they fiddle with it. 

He can’t help but let out a small chuckle. 

Honestly, he wanted to go check out the more high-tech stuff and be involved in the mission briefing that Cable, Magneto and the other members of the Brotherhood were taking part in, or attend to the medical treatment of Logan, but he was shooed away from them. 

Like he’s just a pest that would be latching on to the conversation, hidden behind the excuse that he’s just a child. 

A child who has the ability to put down all of them… He thinks. 

“So… Uh… what do you think?” 

“I think that considering you’re a massive Spider-Man fan, the lack of fan merch is a little disappointing.”

“Well, consider the fact for a second that trying to get the merch from New York to an island in the middle of nowhere, and it’s hidden from the views of everyone, and maybe you’ll understand why I can’t get any.”

“You seem to be doing fine with your Switch 2.”

“...Shut up. Are you always like this?”

“Eh, I’m at least better than Spider-Man at not being so annoying.”

“Really?”

“Lorna, Mi-, I mean, Spider-Man is kind of a menace, always joking around with every villain, and while I have been trying to learn that, I’ve also been trying to be serious, you know?”

“And how is that working out for you, Arachkid?” Kitty shoots at him, throwing a pillow at him, which he catches, blinking as he looks at his hand. He hadn’t meant to do that, but hey. Spider-Senses. What would he do without them?

“I don’t know. I mean, I repaired a street, stopped things from getting out of hand against other villains. What do you think?”

“Couldn’t stop the X-Mansion from being destroyed.”

“...that’s also fair.”

“Um… could we ignore that so I can ask you some more questions about Spider-Man?”

“Sure, sure. Just no identity stuff, yeah?”

“You already mentioned that,” Lorna pouts, looking around the room for somewhere to sit that isn’t occupied, sighing before flopping down on the beanbags where Kitty and Illyana are already sitting.

“Hey, why are you using this space?”

“Do you see anywhere else? Oh, and I like the goth style. It suits you.”

“Oh, uh… thanks?” Illyana says, looking between Kitty and Lorna. She’s clearly confused, not used to people complimenting her clothes.

Smirking, Peter looks at the ceiling, firing a series of webs to create a web hammock-chair hybrid as he flips into it. Crossing his legs as he sits down, he notices the others looking at the webs.

“That must be nice…” Chat says, walking up behind them as she reaches towards the webs, Peter’s hand shoots out and grabs her wrist.

“It’s helpful if you are resistant to the neurotoxin inside the webbing.”

“You thought it was a good idea to set up toxic webs in the middle of my R&R room?”

“I mean, I’ll clear it up, and I have an idea for a neutralising agent that I need to get into a lab to make, so, yeah. Now questions, shoot.”

“Does that include the rest of us?” Chat says, pulling her hand back as she flops down on the beanbag in Kitty’s lap, the brunette girl playing with her hair absentmindedly. Animals, ones that he hasn’t seen before, begin to scuttle other and gather around the pair, Illyana sighing in frustration as… wait. Is that a landshark?! Since when did-

“Ignore Jeff.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I found him earlier, or well, someone found him, and I could talk with him, so one thing led to another, and now he’s following us around.”

“What happened to the other animals?”

“I thought we were asking the questions?”

“Right, sorry. Got distracted. Yes, any questions you have about me, or how the two of us work as Spider People are fair game.”

“Alright, well, what’s the worst villain you’ve faced?” Hisako asks from across the room, Peter turning, suddenly aware that the majority of the room seems to have at least one ear tuned to the conversation.

“As in annoying, dangerous or incompetent?”

“Annoying!”

“Black Cat because I couldn’t catch her.”

“Urgh… of course it’s a woman…” someone mutters under their breath, Peter turning, trying to figure out who said it. 

“I mean, yeah, but she’s also a mutant like us with luck manipulation powers.”

“HUH?!”

“Now I can understand why you said she’s the most annoying…”

“Well, there’s also the fact that she’s someone I’m pretty close with, which… yeah, not great. Next question?”

“Who was your first kiss?!” Bobby yells from the corner of the room, not looking away from the game of Mario Kart, where Jubilee, himself, Sam and Dani are playing.

“...Black Cat…”

“Now, okay, that’s a crazy thing to just suddenly say!”

“What the actual heck, Pete!”

“Hey!”

“No, you need to explain better than just, ‘Oh yeah, one of my villains is also my first love interest!’” Kitty responds, pouting as she pulls on Chat’s hair.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Ah, sorry, Chat. But still!”

“Right, so, I may have saved her from an evil sorcerer, and she kissed me as a thank you…”

“Is that it?”

“Well… her powers work based on Newton's Third Law of Motion. Each action has an opposite reaction. Otherwise known as Schrodinger’s Black Cat effect.” 

“...so you’re saying that she might have kissed you to gain positive luck?”

“And that you saved her because she was in a negative luck situation?”

“More or less… Although I also seem to have a negative effect on her powers, since I somehow offset her ability whilst we were- That’s too much personal information.”

“NO! YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE IT THERE?!”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I know the end of that story,” Penni mentions through a mouthful of what Peter assumes is bubblegum, a bubble forming from her lips as she claps happily at the bubble.

“Tell us!”

“Nope~. Dad said not to tell anyone about the future, so, ha!”

“Wait, Dad?!” Lorna exclaims.

“Oh, yeah. You weren’t there, huh?” Dani says, looking over her shoulder, a blue shell slamming into her kart as she turns back to the screen. “HEY! ARGH DAMNIT! Now I have to catch up…”

Shaking his head as he turns to look at the green-haired teen who is left stuttering and confused, before speaking, “So, yeah. Penni, there is supposedly my daughter from the future, from the same time as Cable. I don’t want to cause a time paradox, so I’ve basically told her not to talk about the future.”

“Which is really difficult when there are so many questions I want to ask people, but can’t because they’re relevant to the future.”

Rubbing her temples, Lorna mutters, “I think I’m going to have a migraine…”

“Join the club. It was an absolute nightmare.”

Sighing, Peter leans back, looking at the ceiling as he thinks about it. He’s not exactly surprised that they had some trouble with it. Peter did take a couple of minutes to try to figure out if the words that the girl had said were true, but the similarities in their appearances and mutations… yeah, that was nearly a guarantee.

“Anyways, do you have any other questions, or are we done so we can relax?”

“Ah, well, I think I don’t have any more questions…” 

“Where is Spider-Man from?”

“...I’m not sure. Somewhere in NYC, I’m assuming Harlem or Brooklyn, maybe the Bronx? I never asked. Didn’t really think it mattered.”

“Helpful.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I was hoping to find his childhood home.”

“THEN I DEFINITELY WOULDN’T TELL YOU!”

Sighing, Peter looks around the room, seeing Lorna stand up as she begins to go talk to other members of the group. His own eyes drift across the room as he tries to assess who is in the worst mental condition.

Honestly, it might be himself if he’s being brutally honest.

“So what are we going to do?”

“Hmm?” Peter asks, looking over at Kitty as she glares at him. There’s a subtle tension surrounding her that seems to shift her Chat is feeling about being sat in the girl's lap.

“I mean, why are you agreeing to all of this? Are we even able to trust Cable?”

“I don’t know,” Peter responds, sighing as he rocks back in his webbing. “It’s not like I know the answer to everything. Besides, he’s from the future, so I’m sure that there’s got to be some kind of information that we aren’t aware of that he’s working on.”

“Hm… And why do you think he’s making us into an X-Force ? Why can’t we be the X-Men?”

“That one is probably because the X-Men fall under the banner of Magneto now.”

“And what's wrong with listening to my father?” Lorna asks, turning with her hands on her hips as she looks at them.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that he’s a wanted terrorist who’s openly threatened world leaders. Or the fact that he believes that we are above the rest of humanity, simply because we were born with a slight difference.”

“And you think we aren’t beyond humanity with our gifts?”

“Watch it, you half-baked witch. You don’t have any right to talk, considering how extreme you are and how you’ve been raised by the brotherhood.”

“Huh?! Like you guys aren’t also extreme! If you really thought that humanity wasn’t beneath you, you wouldn’t be using your gifts as a tool to try and protect humanity!”

“I’m not going to listen to a girl whose super suit makes her look like a-”

“Alright, enough!” Illyana says, pushing a hand over Kitty’s mouth as the brunette struggles, trying to talk around the hand. “I don’t think fighting amongst ourselves is the right decision. Not when humanity is already trying to hunt us down.”

“But, we don’t know that for sure,” Hisako says, looking over sheepishly.

“I think it’s pretty safe to assume, considering Bastion was able to attack,” Bobby mentions, turning around as the game ends on the TV behind him. “He wouldn’t have done that before if it weren’t for the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. or… well, you get the point.”

“Which either means that the Avengers are currently in their own trouble, or S.H.I.E.L.D. is having problems. Maybe even the UN.”

“Great, so we might be fighting a global conspiracy now. That’s stupid.”

“And you thought my father was being extreme. We can only trust ourselves, mutantkind, to solve this mess, because not even the governments are planning on helping us.”

Clicking her tongue, Kitty looks away. There’s clearly a disconnect between the two, but he’s pretty sure that can be overcome. Maybe. With some work. Well, not that the two of them are even going to be on the same team together.

“I don’t know why we’re even talking about this with you. You’re not one of us.” 

A silence falls over the room. The subtle, undeniable divide between them all was causing the group to shift uncomfortably on their feet. Or ankles. Whatever they’re currently sitting or standing on.

“Kitty…”

“Huh? But she’s going to be joining us,” Penni mentions, chewing on her gum as she falls into the webbing. Peter raises an eyebrow, watching her create a circle between her thumb and pointer finger as she crawls up into the webbing. “I mean, why else would she have been brought in here with the rest of us?”

“Wha-”

“That does make a surprising amount of sense,” Peter says, looking around the room at the other thirteen teens. “Aside from Cable being missing, and technically Lorna and Chat not being confirmed members, it’s only X-Force in here. Maybe we were meant to be getting used to each other.”

“You think we’re meant to be getting along with this- this-!” Kitty says, hands moving as she tries to look for the right word. “Metallic Bimbo Terrorist Witch!”

“Jeez! Watch you’re language, Kitty!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t stand how condescending she is!”

“ME?! CONDENSCENDING?! POT KETTLE BLACK!”

“Well, at least I-”

“ENOUGH!” Peter shouts, standing up, hearing Penni rattle and stumble as she tumbles down in the webbing. “We need to leave our personal differences aside. It’s not going to help, and if we really are going to be a team, fighting will make us easier to beat.”

“Whatever,” Kitty says, standing up as she begins storming off towards the door. “I’m done with this. Have fun with your weird little… whatever this is.” 

Watching as she opens the door, pulling on it as it slams behind her, Peter winces. That’s not a good sign. And he’s not exactly sure that he should be the one to go and talk to her. Looking around the room, towards Illyana, he sees the girl sigh. Groaning as she rolls her head back before nodding. 

“Fine, fine. I’ll go deal with the moody one, but you owe me,” Illyana says, standing up and walking past the group towards the door. “Не могу поверить, что мне приходится во всём этом разбираться, когда я и так устала. Если бы только этот глупый Питер не так нервничал из-за того, что он «Арахид». И ещё он не флиртовал с Лорной или своей будущей дочерью, которая совсем на неё не похожа. У меня всё идёт не так. Боже,” she mutters under her breath.

“Hey! I understand that!”

“Then you should know why I’m about to say this; FUCK YOU!”

“Seriously! It’s not like I can control all of that.”

“Then control the part you can!”

She has a point there. Is he really being too uptight about the whole Arachkid thing instead of Peter? And he’s also not really sure why the russian girl thinks that he’s been flirting with Lorna. He hasn’t… right?

“This is exactly why we need Cable’s help,” Peter mumbles, rubbing the hairs on his head, his hands causing the flurry of motion to make the hairs stand on their ends. Lorna raises a hand, running them above the hair as she stabilises the energy, her eyes narrowing before they stop and drop back to normal.

“I’m not so sure. Like, seriously, Pete. You think you wouldn’t have figured this all out with our help?” Jubilee asks, looking at him as she places a hand on her hip.

“I… I don’t know. I mean, at the very least, we wouldn’t have found this-”

“Ah, actually… well, this is slightly embarrassing to say but, uh… We’ve known where Magneto and the Brotherhood were for a while,” Bobby says, running a hand against the back of his neck.

“YOU’VE WHAT?!” Peter and Lorna scream at the same time, looking around the room. This is madness. How did they know about this?!

“Well, it’s not like it was common knowledge, but a couple of us, of the X-Men, managed to figure out where this was solely based on the fact that it’s a blank spot on the Cerebo.”

Peter runs a hand down his face, dragging the skin before letting it snap back into place, before speaking, “So now I understand why Spider-Man and the government don’t exactly trust the X-Men. You’re effectively sheltering terrorists and fugitives.”

The group looks around at each other, a nervous shuffle seeming to fall across the group as they look at him. 

“Well, the argument was that they’re mutants just like us so-”

“And that’s the problem! We might be different, but we shouldn’t be letting that define who we-! God, I hate this. I hate that you subconsciously separate yourselves from the rest of humanity, just because we’re slightly different. EVERYONE’S DIFFERENT! THAT’S THE POINT OF BEING HUMAN !”

“Alright, alright,” Cable says, pushing the door open with the sheepish-looking Kitty and a very annoyed-looking Illyana gripping the back collar of her friends shirt as she pulls her into the room. “If you children are done with you’re bitching, we’re moving on to phase two of our plan. Hunting Bastion.”

Walking into the room, Cable rolls out a mat, ignoring Lorna’s protest as he shoves the items on the table to the side.

“Oh, and Lorna? You’re coming with.”

Chapter Text

Well, that was a pretty useless meeting. At least for Peter and a couple of other X-Force members who have already heard the plan. It’s not like he really needed to go back over the details of their mission.

“At least we know that we can operate without Magneto’s influence,” he mutters to himself as he stretches, continuing to walk through the halls of Island M.

“You mean aside from the fact that we have one of his agents working with us?” Kitty mumbles from below him, looking up as she narrows her eyes. “And can you stop that?! Walking on the ceiling is kind of rude.”

“Well, I don’t exactly want you to hurt me, which is why I’m  walking far enough away that you can’t hit me.”

“WELL, MAYBE I WANT TO HIT YOU BECAUSE I THINK YOU COULD USE IT!” 

“...well, maybe you’re right.”

“I… am?”

“Look, I… I’m not good with this whole guilt thing. My instinct is that I just need to focus on the job, and it was what I was taught by Logan, so, sure. It might be wrong. It also might be right. He said I should be the shield, which means no one dies while I’m still standing, and you saw how I tore apart the Sentinels after Cordelia died.”

“Right… and how am I right?”

“Well, I think that I should… I don’t know. Reevaluate? I think that my approach is right, but maybe I need a realignment of my code?”

“...then you wanna punch?”

“Or a slap.”

“Get down here.”

Flipping to the ground, Peter stands in front of the brunette girl, arms behind his back as he waits. He closes his eyes, breathing in deeply as he waits. It feels like it’s taking her a long time.

Longer than a second.

It’s been at least five.

Ten now. 

Could she just get it over with?

SMACK!

His cheek stings, his breath hissing out as he reels from the sudden hit. It burns, but for some reason, he doesn’t mind. He’s kind of hoping this isn’t a sign of… well, something else manifesting in him.

“So?”

Opening his eyes, he looks at the girl, shaking his head as he begins speaking, “Honestly, nothing. Do you feel any better, though?”

“...a little. I just… it really frustrated me how much that green-haired-! No, I’m not going to say anything bad about her. Not when she’s actually joining us… Why couldn’t it have just been Chat?”

Rolling his eyes, Peter folds his arms behind his head. 

“Yeah, well, Illyana and I thought that this would be a good way to cool off before we’re all packed into the Blackbird again.”

“Urgh… don’t remind me.”

“So, anyway… Illyana mentioned something in Russian that made me think, but…” Peter rubs the back of his head. “Uh… How do I ask this… Well, basically, she said that you’re annoyed Penni doesn’t look like you, is that because of the whole… crush on Scott?”

Watching as the girl's eyes widen before she looks away and begins to quickly walk away, Peter begins to run to catch up.

“What's wrong?!”

“Shut up!”

“Why are you running?!”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

“But we were having a really good conversation!”

“AND NOW I NEED TO HAVE A BETTER CONVERSATION WITH ILLYANA!”

“Uh, but she’s with Lorna right now.”

“Then Jubilee! Just leave me alone!”

“But-!” Peter continues to say before running face-first into a wall, not noticing when Kitty phased through the wall. “Mother of-” he continues, clutching his nose as he feels a thin stream of blood leaking onto his hand.

Well, that’s frustrating. He wasn’t really expecting her to do that… or for him to end up running into a wall. Luckily, his glasses haven’t broken. Or maybe unlucky? Who knows. He would rather leave it up for debate until his nose heals… which should be any second now with his healing factor.

“God, sometimes I wonder what the heck I’ve done to deserve this sort of treatment…”

Stumbling through the dark maze of corridors, Peter looks around. Well, he knows it's dark. His eyes, on the other hand? They don’t. One of the spider-perks he really hasn’t been taking advantage of. 

He should really consider fighting in the dark more often, but then he’d need to adjust the suit. His lenses kind of make it harder than it needs to be, so maybe he could try and come up with a type of adaptable tinted lens? Kinda like the ones they have for glasses that allow them to, well, be sunglasses as well.

“I just need to find out if they have a lab I can borrow for a couple of minutes here… That way I can make some kinda photochromic material to embed into my lenses… although, maybe I should do that for the regular glasses as well, which means shaping the glass… eh, I’ll just have to live with that,” he mumbles to himself, pausing and frowning as he hears some voices echoing down one of the corridors. Tuning into the conversation, and mentally cursing himself for not keeping his guard up, he leans against the wall.

“-just think about it. If you do it, ya might hurt him, but you’d also be giving us an entire new perspective and fighting capabilities to continue protecting mutantkind,” the familiar voice of Cable says, his metallic boots clicking against the stone.

“Well, darling, I don’t particularly see how that is our issue,” Emma says. 

“Nor can I see why I should help a man who has on more than one occasion stabbed me,” Erik adds on.

Frowning, Peter turns, looking down the corridor as he sees the trio standing in the middle of… a medbay? Maybe a lab? He’s not really sure. Whatever the case, he would love to get in there to see if he could improve his suit…

“Not to mention Sabretooth. I can’t even begin to imagine what he’d think if we did this and brought Logan back to near full strength.”

Peter feels his heart freeze. What? What do they mean? Why would they be… the Adamantium. Well, it’s true that the metal is slowly poisoning Logan, not to mention it’s slowing down his healing factor.

“Well, it’s not like he’d be at ‘full-strength’, he’s been using the Adamantium for so long, he’s probably not used to having regular bones.”

“...and if I do this, if I remove the Adamnatium from Logan’s body, what will you do for me?”

“I’ll tell you the answer to the thing you’ve been looking for.”

Peter’s not sure what that is, but this is definitely the time to intervene. Clearing his throat as he loudly begins whistling and walking down the hall, he swings a ball of webs that he quickly weaved together. His hands twirl the orb, the sound of the adults falling into a hushed tone as he pokes his head in the room.

“Hello there.”

“Parker. How can we help you?” Erik says, his body turning to face the teen in what seems to be a semi-hostile state. Not that Peter’s going to fight him.

“Well, I kinda figured out an improvement to make to my suit: Photochromic lenses. I have, well, technically, night vision that could be used if I could change the lens types. Photochromic lenses would work best.” 

Peter’s eyes flick across the room, spotting Logan propped in the corner on a weird-looking bed. Kind of a fusion of bed and chair in all honesty.

“I see, then please feel free to use the laboratory. It is just through the corridor at the end of the hospital room here.” 

“Thanks.”

Walking through the room, his eyes briefly darting over the slumped body of his mentor, or, well, one of his mentors. He doesn’t seem to be hurt or in pain, just… unconscious. What kind of tranquilliser did they have to use to keep him like that, or… if it’s the worst-case scenario, and the bullet that was meant to neutralise mutant powers has continued to work on him?

He’s worried.

More than he would expect to be, considering that he’s pretty sure that Wolveine would be able to survive the apocalypse and then some. He fought in World War Two for crying out loud, and had a nuclear warhead dropped on him. 

Which makes it even more worrying that the man hasn’t been showing any signs of waking up, even with the antidote that Peter gave him.

He definitely made that correctly…

Right?

He’s starting to have some serious doubts about that, and he hates that. He really wishes he could validate his theory, really test the results, but… it seems kind of impossible. It’s not like there's another mutant in a situation that’s similar to or comparable to the situation that he’s currently in. Or at least not a controlled one.

“Sabretooth could work in an ideal world, but…” 

He really doesn’t want to test that theory. He’d have to recreate the tech that neutralised Logan’s powers whilst tuning it down. Not realistically possible given the current circumstances.

Humming to himself as he steps towards the glass doors to the laboratory, he hears a hiss as the sterile lights of the room flood his senses. The room is bright. Almost too bright in comparison to the rest of the room. Like it’s compensating for the dreary mess that’s the rest of the island.

“Now, I know traditionally I should be using silver chloride to make the transition material, but if I want it to be green still… well, I guess I could go with a silver or grey lens this time… but that’s not my style.”

Sighing as he begins walking around the room, Peter begins running through various calculations. His mind is whirring with the possible chemical composition that could lead to his lenses becoming green. It’s going to take him a little bit of time.

Groaning Peter slumps against one of the counters, holding up the new lenses for his suit against the light. The hexagonal pattern crossing the lens slowly transitions into the light grey, almost graphite colour, as he holds them up towards the light. Unluckily, he couldn’t figure out the green colour tint and had to settle for the silvered version.

Pulling off his glasses, he holds the lenses, checking to make sure that they are the right prescription. It’s the first time he’s manually making lenses for himself, so he’s got to make sure.

“Good. Honestly, I’m surprised I managed to do that so easily… Now I just need to get them into my suit… and maybe check on Logan.”

Stepping out of the lab, he listens for any signs of the trio that were in the hospital bay, but it’s empty. Not even their heartbeats. It was actually kind of strange. When he was making the lenses, he was trying to keep an ear listening for them, but it’s like this place is magically blocking out his powers. 

How, he’s not sure.

He’s not happy about it, though.

And he’s even less happy about the fact that Logan isn’t where he once was. The positive news, at least, is that there's no blood, so Peter thinks it’s unlikely that Magneto managed to remove the Adamantium from the man's body.

Probably.

Humming, he begins to make his way back through the winding maze, his mind lost in the mess as he tries to figure out how to get back to the main areas. He’s pretty sure he was here before… 

The familiar glow of the medibay opens up in front of him. 

Well, that was a circle… How the heck does he get out of this place?

“Hrrgh?” A strained, almost plant-like sound plays out from his feet.

Looking down, Peter spots what appears to be a bulb. Or maybe some kind of… Groot? He’s not really sure how the tree man, who’s part of the Guardians of the Galaxy works, but maybe this thing is a similar species to him?

“Uh… hey there, little guy… any chance that you can help me get back to the… to Lorna’s room?”

“Grrugh?”

“Please?”

“Hrrgh,” the little bulb says, waving its hand as it slowly wobbles back and forth in what Peter realises must be a very poor attempt to walk. Well, it’s kind of doing its best in its… kind of charming, kind of way…

Peter’s sure that some of the others would find this cute, but he’s just… disturbed. And he’s not sure why, because normally these things would be cute. Maybe it’s because it looks like a weird mandrake. All wrinkly and dried out. 

Passing by a couple of rooms, Peter peeks into the dimly lit rooms, seeing collections of what look like refugees sitting in mostly silence. Some are having hushed conversations. A couple asking why the X-Men are now helping after everything they’ve been through. It’s… well, a little weird how many there are.

He wasn’t expecting there to be so many mutants on this island outside of the Brotherhood. But that’s clearly not true.

They must have been busy going around picking up lost children before Xavier and the X-Men were able to. 

“Haumn-da-da-dummm!”

“OH! Thanks, little buddy!” Peter says, almost bumping into the little creature as it stops and begins waving its hands around. Pushing open the door to the room as the creature shuffles off, he freezes.

This is not the room he was looking for.

In fact, he’s not even sure that this room is considered a bedroom. More like a shrine. The room is absolutely plastered with Spider-Man posters, candid shots, news articles. Almost every single piece of media that he’s ever seen in New York…

Heck, some of it even seems to be made outside of New York.

Or even fan-made?! 

Oh, god. She… she isn’t one of those stalkers that Miles has been worrying about… right?

Peter’s eyes flick across the room, trying to burn the sight out of his eyes as he turns, trying to slam the door shut. It’s an absolute mess, a stark contrast to the neat and tidy appearance that she was portraying earlier.

Or the suit that she has…

But he’s too late. 

Standing, shaking in place, Illyana, standing next to her and hissing through her teeth, is the green-haired teen he was worried about. Lorna.

“You… saw?”

“Uh…”

“Did. You. See.”

“...yes?”

Feeling his Spider-Sense flair up, he vaults back, hands slipping across something on the floor as he ends up landing on the bed. His eyes flick around, the face of Spider-Man surrounding him in his masked glory.

His hand raises, seeing what he slipped on now stuck to his hand. It’s a pair of-! 

Flicking his hand away, his face beginning to burn, he looks up towards Lorna. Her face is flushed, eyes covered by her bangs as energy seems to cackle across the room. He gulps, looking around as metallic objects begin to hover, floating as they turn towards him. 

“FORGET WHAT YOU JUST SAW!” she screams, pens, books and what Peter thinks is a desk fan, shooting towards him. Her head raises, eyes flaring with a green and purple bubbling energy as it leaks out around her.

Crouching, he begins to twist, trying to avoid the attack from all sides as he’s thumped on the back of the head by the fan, as it clatters to the floor after the impact. Hissing, he rubs the back of his head before speaking, “Kind of hard when you’re throwing everything in your room at me!”

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” 

Twisting as he continues trying to avoid the barrage, Peter does remark at how well he’s been able to keep up with these attacks. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s focused on training his Spider-Sense or what, but it’s helpful. Especially with these glowing green objects hurtling through the air towards him.

“Now, I know how you feel,” Illyana begins to say, reaching over as she tries to hook her arms around Lorna to stop her, not being very successful at the task, as she continues, “But we need Peter, so maybe we can put down the glowing green objects?”

“Huh?! You expect me to let him go after breaking into my personal space?!”

“CHANCE!”

Thwipping out a web towards the wall on the corridor behind the two girls, Peter yanks, slinging himself through the door and onto the wall. Trying not to slow down, he flips, running along the corridor’s wall and ceiling.

“AH! He’s getting away! Look what you’ve done!”

Continuing to run, not turning back as he hears the frustrated grunts from what he assumes is the green-haired girl, he looks for the right room. It’s got to be here somewhere… right? They wouldn’t put both of her rooms too far apart from each other. He hopes at least.

Hearing the cheerful cries of Bobby and Hisako mixing with the despair of Sam and Jono, he reaches for the door frame, flipping himself up into the high ceiling room with a loud thud. The room freezes, eyes shooting towards Peter, a few shooting questioning looks around the room as they try to figure out what’s going on.

“Uh… you okay there, Pe-?”

“WHERE IS HE?!” Lorna shouts, bursting into the room, Illyana following close behind her, her heels floating as she seems to try and dig into the air. The green-haired girl must be making her levitate to stop her from slowing her down.

“PETER PARKER, YOU STUPID IDIOT! Jubilee, I need to…” Kitty says, looking at the bubbly, short-haired Asian girl before noticing Lorna standing next to her. “What’s wrong with you? Why do you look so… flushed?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but it seems like we currently have a common enemy.”

“Peter?”

“Peter.”

A shiver runs down his spine, as he sees the light’s in the girls eyes ignite, their hands extending as they shake. It’s terrifying. What are they going to do to him once they find him? He’s dreading it.

“Wanna go complain about him?”

“I know somewhere.”

“Great. I don’t need you anymore, Jubilee.”

“Uh…” Jubilee mutters, head whipping back and forth as she tries to process what’s going on. The brunette and veridian girls walk out of the room, pushing past Illyana. “Wait! I’ll come with!” 

Sighing, the blonde looks up, pointing at Peter before checking the corridor to make sure the rest are gone before speaking, “You owe me, Parker.”

Watching as she leaves, following after the other girls, Peter groans, flopping to the floor of the lounge as he runs his hand down his face. His vision swims, before the familiar face of Bobby’s bronze skin and hazel eyes appears above him, concern tracing his face. Sam stands next to him, an unusual smirk tracing his features as he looks at Peter.

Bobby sighs, parting his lips as he speaks, “Dude, what the hell did you do?”

Chapter Text

“Alright, X-Force, line up. We’ve got your new suits, so it’s time that we make sure that you’re all kitted and booted for the mission ahead of us,” Cable barks, his hoarse and rough voice grating against the air as the group stands around looking at him.

After trying to explain the situation to Bobby and the rest, all he got was a bunch of disapproving stares. And a couple of complaints. Not that he was able to really do much about it in the end.

It was kind of annoying.

He was hoping that at least one person would be on his side. 

 Well, not that it’s that big of a deal at the moment. 

“What new suits?” Bobby asks, raising his hand, “Can’t we just wear our X-Men ones?”

“Do all of you have X-Men suits?”

“...No…”

“And what’s the X-Men rule about uniforms?”

“They’re to promote uniformity and to show who we’re working with….”

“So what do you think about the idea of having the X-Men uniform mixed with the new ones?”

Silence follows the question, the answer obvious to the rest of the group as they internalise the information. Peter kind of figured that this was going to happen, but he’s kind of worried about the suits. He loves the Arachkid suit he’s got. Both of them. The Black and green is awesome, and sure, he’s not really using it that often anymore, but it’s like an origin suit. 

The X-Men yellow and navy blue is also pretty slick. It’s kind of neat because of the whole spider and X motifs that have been mixed into it. He does think that he’ll make some modifications to it in the future. He’s not really sure what, but the yellow webbing design is really cool. It pops just a little more than the black and green suit.

“So, what do these new suits look like?”

“Well, how about I just show you?”

Raising a hand as a trolley is brought over, Peter frowns, trying to figure out where these suits were made. It’s not like the X-Mansion; there’s no fabricator or anything… that he was aware of in the lab. 

God, if they had one, he would have used that to make the lenses instead of making them by hand.

Although it would also explain why he wasn’t told about them, because they would have been in use. Well, that’s frustrating. At least this new suit will be ready. 

He watches as the rest of the group begins to receive their suits, each box being placed roughly into their hands as they all begin clicking open the briefcases. Peter can’t look. He won’t look. 

He’s worried about what he’ll see.

“You said you had an improvement to your suit,” Cable says, standing in front of him and picking up another briefcase that he carefully hands to Peter. That’s… that’s very different from how he’s treated everyone else, and the low murmur that rings out down the line seems to confirm that suspicion. 

“Yeah…”