12 x some girl to spider talk
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My finding Peter Parker seated in the training room at around seven at night was the last thing I was expecting when I'd decided to go get in some extra practice. Especially given he wasn't in costume, and there was an odd lack of a certain redhead's presence.
Given he wasn't actually doing training, but rather, was seated on a bench and slumped against the wall behind it, I assumed he'd figured this was an ideal place to sit and think.
That thought was confirmed once he practically jumped out of his skin when I said, "Penny for your thoughts, Petey."
He forced a laugh as I came over and sat beside him, running a hand through his already tousled hair as he again slumped against the wall. "Hey, sorry, I just . . . Aunt May's visiting a friend out of state for the weekend, and I--"
"Had nothing else to do?" I volunteered, though I kept a critical eye on him all the same. Because even as he began to nod, I wasn't buying what he was selling.
"Yeah. Turns out our house is pretty quiet when it's empty," he mused, shrugging one shoulder. "Never really noticed before, given how little time I spend in it, anyway."
"Right," I nodded, turning and facing the rest of the training room instead of staring at him like a stalker. (Realistically, I was a concerned mentor, so that shouldn't matter.) "I'm honestly not too clear on what 'quiet' is anymore . . . you sure it still exists?" I joked.
He only kind of laughed, and it was obvious it was a pity laugh. "Pretty sure."
"Good to know," I said, tipping my head toward him for a moment before sitting up and looking back at him. "Now why don't you tell me why you're really sulking alone in the training room?"
He stared at me, bewildered. "I, um--"
"Not that I don't doubt what you said about your aunt," I added, figuring it was best he didn't think I didn't trust him, "I just know that that face is not the face of someone who is sick of being alone in a house."
A small smile made it's way to his lips. "I'm that see-through?"
"And I don't even have psychic powers," I agreed with a nod.
Peter sighed at that, and stared at the ceiling for a good long while. He didn't look back down, even when he eventually mumbled, "Ev and I had a fight."
"Oh?" That made much more sense, taken into account his current mood. "What about?"
He sighed again, louder this time, before finally sitting up and turning to face me. "We got into a fight about this whole hero thing . . . I told her I thought it might be too dangerous, that maybe we should take some time off and see what happens . . . and she didn't take it well," he rubbed both hands over his face then, his elbows resting on his knees. "She thought I was trying to tell her she shouldn't be a hero at all," he said through his hands, the words so muffled I almost couldn't interpret them.
Once all of the pieces fell into place, my eyes widened slightly in understanding, and I was glad in that moment that he was too busy wallowing in boy-feelings to be looking my way. "Uh huh," I said slowly as I tried to collect my thoughts. I didn't want to say the wrong thing to him, after all. I was supposed to be a mentor. Maybe this was more Pietro's area . . .? But Pietro was off doing guy stuff-- "Well, that's not what you meant, was it?"
He peeked at me from between his hands. "No," he agreed sullenly.
"Did you bother mentioning that to her?" I asked next, arching a brow at him inquisitively.
He returned to hiding behind his hands. "Nope," he groaned, before he instead resorted to burrowing his head in his arms and muttering things I couldn't understand at his feet.
"All right, Petey," I said, pulling him up by the shoulder so I could once more see his face. Said face was scrunched up in evident self-hatred, but hey; better than him being hunched over like an armadillo. "You have made a grave mistake," I informed him, doing my best to stay honest. "You should definitely not have left her off with that thought. That needs to be addressed. Because that's not what you meant. And if I'm guessing here, your entire idea of taking a break wasn't really a solid plan at all, was it? You were just thinking out loud?"
He scrunched up his eyebrows and stared at me dismally before nodding quickly. "I just want her to be safe. I am also terrible with girls."
"You're doing all right with me," I pointed out.
"Yeah, but you're like a big sister, or something," he grumbled. "It's not like I'd ever try to . . . to flirt with you."
I smiled in amusement. "I should hope not. I think Pietro might kill you."
Peter nodded his head vigorously, "I don't think that 'might' belonged in that sentence."
I rolled my eyes. "Anyway. Back to Ev. You just need to talk to her, and explain you were thinking out loud . . . and you didn't mean to hurt her feelings."
"And that I don't underestimate her as a hero?" he asked, looking back to me.
"Yes, definitely make sure that is crystal clear," I said seriously. "If she thinks that, you have no hope of ever flirting with her ever again. Which by the way, you should really get on that. I think the guys are starting to place bets."
"I have super heroes placing bets on when I'm going to be in a relationship?" Peter asked incredulously, the entire situation seeming to baffle him.
I rolled his eyes and punched his shoulder lightly. "You are a super hero, doofus. Get over it."
"That's easier said than done," he pointed out. "Especially if you take into account all of the enemies I've made. Do you know how many people have wanted to kill me?"
"How did we get from girls to enemies?" I asked, brows rising as I stared at him.
He shrugged. "The topics are pretty interrelated with me. Sorry."
I swallowed a sigh and instead nodded kindly at him. "It's whatever. Keep going. Lots of people want you dead . . ."
"Right," he continued almost immediately, "lots. Like, even my boss, the head of the Bugle, he hates Spider-Man. Granted, he doesn't know I'm Spider-Man, but he definitely hates me. Not me Peter Parker me, of course-- You get the point. Then there was Electro, who really wanted me dead . . . nearly took out Manhattan trying to succeed."
"I think I remember something about that in the news," I mused.
He didn't even pause. "Rhino just hates my guts for no legitimate reason, then again, he doesn't have much of a brain, so I guess he doesn't need one. The Green Goblin is . . . a very long story that I'm not going to get into now . . . Ohh, there was Doc Oc, he actually was trying to help some crime boss guy get my blood so he could mass-produce super-spider-soldiers--"
I cut him off right there, his words triggering various conversations I'd had in this Tower since joining the Avengers, along with things I'd learned in history books. "Did you say super soldiers?" I asked, clutching at his shirt and practically yanking him off the bench as I got to my feet.
I put him at an odd angle, what with how short I was and how tall he was, but he was a little too busy staring at me bug-eyed to seem to notice. He nodded quickly, "Yeah, some guy wants to get my blood and make super soldiers. They've never been able to replicate whatever happened to give me my powers, and--"
"Doesn't that story sound oddly familiar to you?" I demanded of him, releasing his shirt and beginning to head out of the training room quickly. He was on my tail the whole way. "Or have you never heard the whole tale?"
"What whole tale?" he asked, practically running to keep up with me.
I forced a grim smile to my lips. "Someone else we both know and love has been in a situation similar to you many a time, dear Peter. Someone who stands for justice and wears spangly tights and has recently come to the conclusion that his old nemesis is back from the dead."
I could see Peter's eyes widening to the size of dinner plates in my periphery. "You don't think . . ."
"That there's a connection there?" I glanced over at him. "You'd better believe I do. We need to find Steve."