Watching Spider-Man:FFH

Prt 7

Last Time on The Trials and Tribulations of Spider-Man, the People's Hero:

"I'm fine," Tony lied, instead. "Just admiring my likeness. The artist has really done Iron Man justice, don't you think?"

Bruce looked to be at a loss for words. "I... Tony..."

"Well, I certainly happen to think so. Actually, I think Iron Man looks very heroic," Tony forged onwards, ignoring the pinched look on Bruce's face. "In fact, I might just have to commission a mural for myself when we get back to our own timeline."

Bruce just sighed. Again, Tony ignored it, resolutely looking back at the TV and avoiding Bruce's worried eyes. He was fine.

He was.

Now on The Trials and Tribulations of Spider-Man, the People's Hero:

It was a new day. On Peter's desk, Peter's phone lit up, buzzing obnoxiously as an unknown number popped up on his cracked phone screen. Crouching in the middle of the room as he packed his suitcase, Peter lifted his head and turned around. He tipped the phone to look at the screen, but dropped it immediately after with a frustrated sigh.

The buzzing faded.

Stubborn, I'll give him that. Fury was begrudgingly impressed. Persistence was an important trait for all heroes to possess—an old friend had shown him as much—and he supposed it was a good thing that Peter seemed to have that in spades.

If only we found out a different way, he sighed, only a little irked by Peter's continued dodging of his calls. He had to admit that, at first, he hadn't understood why his future self seemed insistent on bringing Peter Parker into the fold; surely, there were better options than a literal child. Truthfully, he still didn't quite understand.

And yet it seemed that in the future, he was fated to doggedly seek the help of a reckless teenager bestowed with powers but little experience. Happy Hogan, at the very least, seemed to have faith in Peter's abilities. Fury certainly hadn't expected the ornery bodyguard to go out of his way to defend a kid so often.

He figured that was a point in Peter's favor, if he'd managed to sway a hardheaded man like Hogan to his side.

Still, he hadn't become Director of SHIELD by blindly trusting any hero who fell into his lap. (Well, there was one exception, he supposed, but Carol Danvers was different. She was special in every possible way. He wondered, faintly, what she would think of Peter Parker. Did she know him, in his future?)

(Oh, if only Fury knew.)

Until he knew more, until he could see for himself what distinguished Peter Parker, he'd maintain his doubts. He'd wait to make his own judgements—wait to find his own answers to the questions: why Spider-Man? Why Peter?

Peter resumed packing for a moment before standing up, lost in the middle of his own room; he looked as if the weight of the world might as well rest on his shoulders.

"Okay," he exhaled a heavy breath, though the tension never left him. For a long, silent moment, he didn't move, looking uncertain. At last, he turned his head to peer contemplatively at his old Spider-Man suit (a different suit, lacking the sleek metallic nanoparticles of the Iron Spider suit he'd worn to the charity event) hanging in his closet.

"Peter..." MJ muttered, flinching at the world-weary look on her boyfriend's face. She'd never deluded herself as to the harsh realities of the superhero life; she'd known, even before she'd discovered Peter's identity, that most superheroes did not have the luxury of a peaceful life.