If They Knew All About You

I Thought We Were A Team

After Peter had been stabbed in a random ally way in Manhattan, during those weeks of healing and waiting around to do something productive outside of Mr. Stark's lab, he had often come to ponder the balance of freedom and safety. Before, he had felt invincible, as he had been swinging around the buildings of Queens, answering to no one but himself. Everything that happened, everything he did out on those streets happened because he willed it too. His power, his freedom was untouchable. Sure, the goggles on his head weren't as flashy and the material of his suit sometimes itched in the weirdest places, but nobody could tell him what to do. Nobody could hold him back.

All that was fun and games and he had certainly felt like a big shot superhero. Spider-Man, here to save the day. That illusion had come shattering down when he was attacked. When he thought he was going to die on that rooftop in Manhattan slowly bleeding out just because he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. The fall from his high horse was painful and humiliating. But he had been lucky. Lucky enough that Mr. Stark had taken pity on him. Had decided to help him out that night and even more so over the weeks that had followed, had given Peter guidance and support. Safety. Not just from the people who wanted to harm him, who saw their authority threatened by Peter's motivation to help, but even from his own team, from his friends, because Peter had not been ready to share his biggest secret with anyone else. In the darkest, loneliest nights he could even admit that the man was saving him a little from himself.

In those weeks when Peter had gained first an ally, then a mentor, maybe at some point even something like a friend? In those few weeks, his priorities had shifted dramatically. With every day his commitment to the alliance with Mr. Stark had grown and with that the underlying search for freedom and adventure was somewhat balanced out with a deep yearning for the stability and safety Mr. Stark had to offer. There was a sense of that freedome-spark that had come back to him when Mr. Stark had given the suit to him. The new feel of it, how fast and agile it was. That craving to feel invincible and free had stirred again.

None of that could hold a candle to the overwhelming rush of endorphins and adrenaline Peter felt the first time he took the suit out after he had enabled the new protocol. 576 web shooter combinations. Mr. Stark had gone completely overboard with those features and Peter was living for every second of it. He had spent hours trying out different settings in the woods beyond the Avengers Compound, had trained every day before and sometimes after he visited Mr. Stark. The city was no place to practice, not in the current climate. Not if he was supposed to impress the civilians, gain their trust back like Mr. Stark had asked. He could have done none of it without Karen. She was amazing.

It had been a week since he had hacked the suit. He had started to get with small things. Just to get back into the groove of things. Pulling people back onto the sidewalk when they didn't look before they stepped into the street, a few rescued balloons. On day three he had come across a robber on Greenpoint Avenue, just off 46th street. The temptation to take him out was just too strong and before Peter knew it he had followed the guy into the next building and had gotten himself into the middle of a heist in the Bank of America Financial Center. Seven guys with big guns and a few hostages. It had been the first chance to put the suit's rapid-fire to the test and just in the first couple of minutes, he took out three of them. It was safe to say that he hadn't felt that alive in a long time. That good about what he was doing. There was no question of loyalty, no weighing on who was right and who was wrong, no middle ground to argue about. These were criminals and he was there to stop them. So, he did.

Eleven civilians and five bank employees ran from the building unharmed when he web-wrapped up the last of the bank robbers. His job was done. The heist thwarted. No injuries to speak of. A success all around. Or it had been until Peter turned and stared down the barrel of yet another gun.