─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
My gaze was drawn to the small brown hairy-looking figurine in my hand, which resembled the fuzzy animal in one of the posters.
The entire room was in disarray. I wasn't saying mine wasn't, but this was annoying.
Annoying that I didn't have this much stuff in my room.
To be honest, I was jealous of the abundance of posters and toys. No matter how old this Peter Parker was, the things he owned made me green with envy. And his apparent freedom to attend a regular school.
I wanted this kid's life, whoever he was.
A small smile formed on my face when I heard the door open and two people step in.
"Do all fourteen-year-olds own toys like this? Or are you just a huge nerd?" I spoke, looking up to see my dad standing with who I assumed was our recruit.
His face showed utter shock as he looked at me. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable in his presence...
Not only that...
An unfamiliar feeling bubbled in the pit of my stomach the moment our eyes met... Well, when his eyes met my blurry visor.
It wiped my head clean of any thoughts as I struggled to figure out what it was.
Everything felt like... Like...
An explosion.
Like this boy was the answer to all my questions yet at the same time he was why I had a million. Like I knew him so well yet I didn't.
I couldn't explain it.
The strange bubbly feeling in my stomach changed and it felt like there was a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering around and trying to force their way out through my throat. I couldn't speak in front of him.
Was he a threat? Was he doing this to me?
I snapped out of it as soon as the lock on the door clicked. My dad went over to the bin to spit out a piece of the loaf May was offering earlier. "As walnut date loaves go, that wasn't bad."
Peter's breathing hitched as he stared. "Neoma's in my bedroom."
The glint in his eyes as he acknowledged my presence perplexed me. I was expecting some sort of fanboy reaction, but hearing it from him?
Every pitch of his breathy acknowledgement echoed around me, as did every tinge of ache in my chest.
I grew irritated at the feeling and concluded that I was probably just not used to meeting another teenager.
All I could muster was a simple, "Huh..." I bit the corner of my lip. "Nice to meet you, Peter Parker."
"You know my name?" He asked in a particularly high-pitched voice.
The feeling stayed and I couldn't process what it was or how to react to it.
I couldn't control the heavy irritation in my heart and couldn't quite stop myself from taking it out on the main source of the issue.
I scoffed and shook my head. "No, other than being able to manipulate gravity, I can read your mind. Yes, I know your name," I hissed, my words laced with pure sarcasm as I went to sit on the edge of his bed.
"Sorry about her. She's probably sour about the idea of there being another teenage superhero and- Whoa! What do we have here?" My dad's attention was immediately caught by the monitor on Peter's desk. "Retro tech, huh? Thrift store? Salvation army?"
"Uh, the, uh, garbage, actually-"
"You're a dumpster diver?" I scrunched my nose, although my expression was most likely unseen through the blurry filter my visor put on my face.
"Yeah, I was... A-anyway, look, um... I definitely did not apply for your grant-"
"Ah-ah! Me first," my dad raised a finger.
"Okay..."
"Quick question of the rhetorical variety..." He brought out his phone, projecting a video clip of a red-suited guy swinging from some kind of white rope.
"That's you, right?"
"Um, no. What do you- what do you mean?" Peter asked defensively.
"Yeah," my dad insisted. He flipped the hologram around. "Look at you go."
The video showed the guy stopping a car from crashing into a bus.
"Wow! Nice catch. 3,000 pounds, 40 miles an hour..." He kept the phone away. "That's not easy. You got mad skills."
"You're kidding," I spoke up before Peter could deject. "You're choosing him based off some video? That could easily have been staged, Anthony," I spat, using our agreement to avoid reprimanding.
Peter's gaze bounced between us two. "Y-yeah. It's all fake. It's all done on a computer."
"Mmm-hmm." Tony nodded unconvinced, giving me a stern look.
I only scoffed.
How could he pick this kid after seeing one stupid measly video when it took me argument after argument to convince him I was capable?
It only added to the envy in the mix that was my cauldron of feelings towards this prepubescent weirdo.
"Uh... It's like that video. What is it?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh, you mean like those UFOs over Pheonix?" My dad asked, picking up a wooden staff and using it to knock open a hatch in the ceiling.
"Oh, what do we have here?" The same red suit from the video dropped down, hanging from a rope, inducing panic in Peter as he jumped forward to snatch it, hiding it behind his hanging clothes.
Peter was now leaning against the wall to hide the suit behind him.
There was no point in hiding it anymore.
My dad raised an eyebrow. "You're the Spider-ling. Crime-fighting spider. You're Spider-boy?"
Peter seemed hesitant as he shifted his gaze. "Spider-Man."
A loud bark of laughter came from my mouth and I instantly slapped my hand over my mouth. "Sorry."
My dad ignored me. "Not in that onesie, you're not."
"It's not a onesie," Peter defended as he went to stand by his desk.
My dad pushed aside the hanging clothes to take a peek at the homemade suit on the floor before going to take a seat on the chair by the bin.
"I don't believe this, I was actually having a really good day today, Mr Stark. Didn't miss my train, this perfectly good DVD player was just sitting there. And Algebra test, nailed it."
"Who else knows? Anybody?"
Peter shook his head dolefully. "Nobody," he whispered under his breath.
"Not even your unusually attractive aunt?"
I cleared my throat, earning a puzzled glance from my dad.
Peter's eyes widened. "No. No. No, no. If she knew, she would freak out. And when she freaks out, I freak out..."
"You know what I think is really cool? This webbing," my dad tossed a capsule towards Peter who caught it effortlessly without even looking like he knew exactly what was gonna happen.
"That tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?"
"I did," Peter raised his hand and tossed the capsule into the box under his clothes.
"Wait, you're telling me that the webs are handmade?" I cut in. "Like... Anyone can make them?" I paused. "It doesn't like... Come out of... You?"
The two looked at me, disgusted by my inquiry.
"N-No!" Peter was fast to deny it, only making me more suspicious of the fact.
My dad shook his head and waved me off. "So, climbing walls, how do you doing that? Adhesive gloves?"
Peter leaned for war to rest his hands against the desk. "It's a long story. I was..."
"Lordy!" My dad cut him off, picking up the suit and checking out the goggles. "Can you even see in these?" He asked, holding up the goggles to his eyes.
"Yes- yes, I can!" Peter argued.
My dad made a weird sound similar to the one a whale makes. "Euggghhh, I'm blind!" He mocked.
I snickered. "Can I?"
The suit was tossed over to me before Peter could grab it.
Laughing goofily, I held the goggles up against my visor. "Dear God, are you sure you're not part Bat?" I teased.
Peter yanked the suit out of my hands, dropping it into the same box he tossed the web capsule into.
"Aww," I mocked.
"I can- I can see in those..." Peter pointed to the box. "Okay? It's just that when whatever happened, happened, it's like my senses have been dialled to 11. There's way too much input, so they just kinda help me focus," he explained.
I bit my tongue. "Okay, now I feel bad."
Peter gave me a pitiful smile. One I wanted to wipe away with a fist to his face.
But then again... I realised something. All the small comments I've made since he stepped into the room. I also couldn't get my eyes off him. It was as if I wanted to catch his attention. Which was strange as I thought this feeling was supposedly negative...
"You're in dire need of an upgrade," My dad said. "Systemic, top to bottom, hundred-point restoration. That's why I'm here."
Peter took a seat next to me on the bed. I scooted to make space between us.
"Why are you doing this?" My dad asked. "I gotta know, what's your MO? What gets you out of that twin bed in the morning?"
Peter fidgeted with his fingers. "Because... Because I've been me my whole life, and I've had these powers for six months..."
Relatable. I didn't have my abilities for very long. Longer than this nerd but not by that much.
"I read books, I build computers. And- and yeah, I would love to play football, but I- I couldn't then, so I shouldn't now."
"Sure, because you're different."
"Exactly. But I can't tell anybody that, so I'm not..." He blinked a few times, on the verge of tears as he hung his head. "When you can do the things that I can, but you don't... And then the bad things happen. They happen because of you."
Alright, I felt really bad for him now.
But only because I never felt the way he did with my abilities. Instead of hiding them, I ran up to my father and yelled it straight to his face.
I didn't have much to hide except my real identity from the public.
"So you wanna look out for the little guy, you wanna do your part? Make the world a better place, all that, right?" My dad asked.
"Yeah- yeah, just looking out for the little guy... That's what it is."
I didn't understand what that metaphor meant but I nodded anyway.
My dad stood from his seat and straightened out his suit jacket.
He looked down at the bed and pointed at the empty spot next to Peter. "I'm gonna sit here, so you move the leg."
Peter dropped his leg to the floor and moved in my direction, making me scoot even further until I was up against the wall, making me stand up to keep the bed from being cramped.
My dad sat down and put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "You got a passport?"
"No, I don't even have my driver's license," Peter shook his head.
"You ever been to Germany?"
"No."
"Oh, you'll love it."
I clicked my tongue. "Tony... Tonito... Buddy... No way you're actually going through with this," I scoffed.
"You didn't just call me little Tony," my dad shook his head.
"Oh, I did."
"Oh, then I am."
"Wait what? I can't go to Germany!" Peter cut in.
"Why?" My dad asked.
Peter paused. "I got... Homework."
"I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that."
"What's homework?" I asked, mostly to myself.
"N-No, I'm being serious! I can't just drop out of school!" Peter argued.
"Might be a little dangerous. Better tell Aunt Hottie I'm taking you on a field trip," my dad stood up to go to the door.
A web came shooting out of Peter's wrist device thing, webbing my dad's hand against the doorknob to keep him from opening it.
"Don't tell Aunt May," Peter stated.
"All right, Spider-Man."
I pursed my lips as they stood in silence for a moment.
"Get me out of this," my dad gestured to the web.
"Sorry, I'll get the thing-"
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───