Watching Spider-Man:FFH

Prt 8

"What're you gonna do?" Ned asked his best friend desperately, looking to the secret superhero for guidance. He and Peter were gripping each other for strength, as if they were each other's proverbial rocks in the midst of disaster.

Peter's wide eyes were fixed on the water creature looming above them. "I left my suit in the hotel room," Peter hissed urgently out of the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, man," Sam snickered, "you really weren't kidding about that Parker Luck, were you?"

Peter did not look nearly as entertained as Sam did. "I wish I were," he replied.

Bucky shook his head in disbelief, half-amused and half-concerned. "Jesus," he huffed. "Even after your aunt put your suit in your luggage, you didn't end up having it on hand when you needed it. Man, kid, you have really bad timing."

"I know." Peter nodded miserably. "In my defense, how was I supposed to know our trip would be hijacked by a water monster?"

"Fair point," Bucky acknowledged. After a delayed moment, he narrowed his eyes shrewdly, catching on to Peter's wording. "Wait a second. Hijacked your 'trip'? Why do I suddenly get the feeling that this won't be the last we see of this... thing, whatever it is?"

Because it won't be. Or, at least, it isn't the last of its type. He couldn't bring himself to say that, though, the words stubbornly lodging themselves in his throat, so instead he plastered on a smile that tasted too plastic, too fake, too bright. "You can call it an Elemental," he offered, addressing the latter half of Bucky's questions. "That's the name I was told to refer to them as." Even though I now know that they're just illusions.

Peter's explanation only made Bucky's narrow-eyed glare sharpen. "Told by who?" he asked astutely. "And—'them'? Are there more?"

Peter pressed his lips together, refusing to say more on the matter.

"Well, there was the other monster—Elemental—at the beginning of the footage," Scott speculated. "The one made of rocks? Maybe that's what Peter meant."

"Right," Bucky grumbled under his breath, but his gaze remained fixated on Peter. "Maybe," he conceded, but his voice was skeptical, unconvinced. His eyes swarmed with suspicion as he tracked Peter's movements across the room.

A panicked whine erupted from the back of Ned's throat. "Why!?" the teenager demanded.

"Because I'm on vacation, Ned!" Peter answered, audibly frustrated and harried. "Everyone's gonna see my face—just get them out of here!"

"Oh, Pete," Rhodey breathed. He smiled, a little bittersweet and yet inexplicably proud, and murmured to himself, "Tony was right. You really are the best of us all." Even now, when you should be relaxing and having fun on vacation, you're stepping up. It isn't your job—it shouldn't be—but here you are. Looking out for the little guy.

"Tony did say that, didn't he?" Pepper whispered beside him. Unbidden, her lips twitched into a smile of her own. "He always had faith in the Spider-Kid."

"He should be there," Rhodey muttered. Their eyes met, commiserating on the absence of the Tony they knew together. "He always wanted to be the one to guide Peter—to mentor him."

"He was." Pepper blinked, and if it weren't for the lights from the TV dappling her face, the lone tear that traced down her cheek would have gone unnoticed. "He is," she corrected herself. "Even now, he..."

She couldn't finish her sentence, but she didn't need to. Rhodey's eyes filled with understanding and agreement. Even in Peter's future, where Tony was gone, Tony's memory still carried Peter along, still drove Peter to greater heights, still molded Peter into a better hero.