The entire decathlon team was seated in the desks that they had arranged in a makeshift table waiting for Mr. Harrington to meet them in the classroom so they could start practice.
Peter was just in the middle of telling Ned about how he absolutely demolished Sam and Bucky in Mario Kart the night before when the teacher burst through the doors with a wide grin, breathing like he ran a half marathon.
Something told him that whatever it was, didn’t bode well for the rest of the day.
“You won’t believe who I just ran in to!” He got out between heaving breaths.
Peter exchanged a wary glance with Ned. He couldn’t think of anyone short of Dr. Banner that would get Mr. Harrington that excited, and he knew that the hero was out of state for a meeting, so it wasn’t possible for it to be him.
Ned returned the glance with equal reproach.
Murmuring broke out amongst the small group of teenagers while they waited for an answer. It seemed like no one had any sort of idea who their teacher was talking about.
The moment Mr. Harrington stepped further into the classroom, revealing the figure standing behind him, Peter was pretty sure that he had stepped into an alternate reality. That, or someone was playing a nasty joke on him.
The person standing directly behind his teacher, waving cheerfully at the decathlon team, was dressed in a replica of the second gen Spiderman suit. It was about as close as one could get from referencing pictures and videos, and they guy was a similar enough build that Peter could see how people would be fooled.
A frightening thought struck him that he might be fooled too if he wasn’t actually Spiderman.
Ned’s choked gasp was lost in the shouts and cheers of his teammates, and he grasped Peter’s arm with a vicelike grip.
“You’re seeing this too, right?” he asked, his eyes wider than the hero had ever seen them.
All Peter could do was nod mutely. He prayed that this was some poor cosplayer that just got seen by an overexuberant Harrington and not an honest to God impersonator. He didn’t even want to think about all of the trouble this was going to cause him down the line if it got out of hand.
“I made a quick trip to the store to get some snacks for today’s meet, and I saw Mr. Spiderman just walking down the street! I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to thank him again for what he did for us as the Washington Monument, and he was kind enough to offer to drop in and say hello to you all!” He rambled, not bothering to even breathe in between sentences.
There was a possibility that Harrington could just pass out at any second if he kept it up.
“Something tells me that he forgot the snacks,” Ned murmured, nudging Peter lightly.
In any other situation, Peter would have laughed, but he was too busy try to discern if his impersonator was a threat or just an idiot.
“Please, Roger, just call me Spidey,” Not-Spiderman quipped cheerfully, clapping the teacher on the shoulder as he strolled further into the room.
Just call me Spidey? Peter was sure he was going to dry heave any second.
“I didn’t get the chance to speak to you all properly after the whole elevator incident back in D.C., but I figured I had the time today so, why not? You guys can get some pictures and ask all the questions you want. As long as they aren’t classified, that is,” he said, one of the eyes on the mask winking.
Peter could hear the smirk in his voice, and it made his skin crawl. Spiderman was snarky, sure, but this was a different.
He contemplated pulling his phone out right then and there to text Tony, but hesitated. He didn’t want to get anyone involved if it wasn’t that big of a deal. There was no telling how advanced the suit was or if the guy inside wasn’t planning to embrace the ‘Friendly Neighborhood’ persona, and he knew raising alarm with that many civilians could end in disaster.
The others started tripping over themselves trying to ask questions, but Harrington waved his hands at them in an effort to quieten everyone down.
“One at a time, folks! You’ll all get to ask your questions, but Spidey can’t answer them all at once!” he shouted over them.
Not-Spiderman perched himself on a nearby desk, swinging his legs idly and still portraying a peppy demeanor through the mask of the suit as he waited for everyone to control themselves. The only one that looked remotely unbothered was MJ, but that wasn’t even a surprise. The world could have been ending around them, and she likely wouldn’t bat an eye.
Peter admired that about her almost as much as it scared him.
“How did you get your powers?” Cindy blurted, once the noise died down enough.
He shifted to the edge of his seat, knowing that the only people in the world that knew what happened to him were either in Avengers Tower or sitting directly next to him. Whatever Not-Spiderman responded with would be telling.
“I was part of a series of experiments on human mutation,” he said casually. “They wanted to know what would happen if you mixed a spider’s DNA with a human’s. Let’s just say I didn’t turn out like they expected me to.”
Not-Spiderman winked. He winked. Peter couldn’t remember the last time he winked at anything.
Everyone except Peter and Ned chuckled at the admission. The two just shared a knowing look. At least the impersonator didn’t know the truth, or he wasn’t sharing it if he did.
“Do you make the webs with your body?” Abe asked.
What kind of stupid question was that? Does Spiderman make-
“Why, yes. I do. It was part of the mutation.”
An idiot. The guy in the suit was an idiot.
“Do you hide your identity because you’re horribly disfigured and don’t want anyone to see what you look like?”
Peter wanted to slam his head into the table. He thought he was at a school for the above average intelligence.
“No, no. Of course not. I keep my identity a secret to protect my loved ones. Besides, it’s hard to go grocery shopping when you’re being stopped every five seconds for a picture or an autograph. I wouldn’t want to turn out like my good friends, the Avengers.”
The tone was so haughty that Peter had the passing thought of punching the guy to find out if he was actually enhanced or not.
His team ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ around him, enthralled to be in the presence of a hero. The irony of it all didn’t escape him.
“Who’s your favorite Avenger?”
“Black Widow, easy.”
Peter blanched. The answer was so quick, and the underlying implication was there if the eyebrow wiggle didn’t say enough.
Not only was Natasha terrifying, but she was like an aunt to him. Besides, everyone knew his favorite Avenger was Thor – not that Tony ever let him live that down.
“Do you know Peter Parker?” Flash questioned, sending a triumphant smirk in Peter’s direction.
Because that’s exactly what he needed right then. He was actually surprised Flash kept his mouth shut as long as he did.
Not-Spiderman tilted his head in question.
“Who?” he asked.
Flash’s smirk only grew wider.
“Peter Parker. He’s sitting right there,” Flashed pointed to him, “He says that he has a Stark Internship and that he knew you.”
Peter wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. Maybe swallow the imposter too while it was at it.
The man turned his attention to Peter and made a show of narrowing his eyes slightly.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t say that I know you, Mr. Peter Parker.”
“I knew it!” Flash hissed.
The attention drifted to Peter as the rest of his team stared at him with disapproving glares. Even MJ glanced up over her book for a moment.
His hands were essentially tied. He couldn’t deny the claim because for all his team knew, Spiderman was telling them directly. If he told them the dude was a phony, he’d have no real proof without outing himself in the process.
“What’s it like working with Tony Stark?” Jason asked, in an attempt to change the subject.
The guy paused for moment, looking as if he were contemplating his answer. Peter knew he was trying to come up with a passable lie.
“He’s kind of an asshole,” he shrugged.
“What?” Ned hissed.
The others whispered slightly amongst themselves in question. Peter recoiled at the statement, his disbelief and growing embarrassment dissipating and transforming into anger that barely simmered below the surface.
“Yeah, the guy isn’t that great. I mean, you all see the high-and-mighty front he puts on for the media, right? That’s pretty much all there is to it. He stays holed up in his office and snaps at us any chance he gets. He’s moody, unpredictable, and generally awful to be around. The only good thing to come out of him is a paycheck and his tech.”
The guy said it so nonchalantly that Peter’s blood boiled.
A paycheck and his tech. How dare he? How dare he talk about Tony like that?
Sure, the media front was correct, but all of the heroes had a part to play. The world never saw the sacrifices the man made for them, the blood, sweat, tears, and sleepless nights. They never saw the way he would cook dinner for them as a family, the movie nights, or the game nights. They never saw the way that he would come into Peter’s room in the tower and wake him up from his night terrors and hold him longer after the panic subsided. Nobody but their dysfunctional family got to see the real Tony Stark, not the one in front of the cameras, but the one that chased his robots around the lab at three in the morning with a screwdriver or the one that gives really good hugs but pretends to hate them.
To say that Peter was ready to throw all caution to the wind was an understatement. He had never had rage settle in his bones as fast as it did hearing those words from the mouth of a stranger that claimed to be close to his family.
He was almost blinded by it.
Ned put a hand on his shoulder, and Peter turned his head to look at him. His expression must have betrayed his emotions because his best friend swallowed heavily and removed his hand.
“Oh! Can you show us some moves?” Flash asked again, practically vibrating in his seat.
Peter turned his attention back to the impersonator. He wondered what lie the guy would come up with to get out of it.
The man in the suit faltered for a second, obviously unprepared for that kind of question.
“I, uh, well I would, but I got an injury on patrol last night, and the doc ordered me to take it easy for a bit so it can heal.”
Cindy and Betty cooed. Peter couldn’t stop his eyeroll.
That’s when a thought occurred to him. There was only so many lies the guy could come up with, and nobody knew Spiderman’s personal life better than Peter.
He started to wonder if May was right about Tony rubbing off on him a bit too much.
Peter leaned back in his seat, cross his ankle over his knee, and forced the tension out of his shoulders. Natasha had taught him how to get under someone’s skin. She claimed he had a knack for it, and he decided it was past time to she if she was right.
“That’s interesting because last I heard, you were on a mission with the rest of the Avengers yesterday, and they didn’t get back until early morning.”
But the others wouldn’t know that.
Not-Spiderman turned his attention back to Peter, eyes wide.
“Where did you hear that?” he asked slowly.
“Oh, there’s pictures online already. I saw some cool ones. It looked like a Hydra facility.”
Peter forced his eyes away from the mask to idly pick at his fingernails. It was a good replica, and he was going to figure out how he got it so close to the original.
“Yes, well, that’s where I was. Did I say patrol? I meant mission,” he backtracked, gesturing with his hand.
“You’re supposed to have a pretty impressive healing factor too. What was so bad that Doctor Cho has you going easy?”
Peter kept his tone bored and uninterested. He could feel the confused eyes on him but didn’t dare acknowledge them lest he lose his confidence.
“Doctor Cho?” Not-Spiderman asked. “Listen kid, I’m not sure what you’re getting at here.”
Peter looked back up at him, forcing his expression into something of innocent confusion.
“Yeah? She’s the on-call physician for the Avengers, the only one that Mr. Stark trusts to work on the team. That’s all public knowledge.”
It absolutely wasn’t public knowledge.
Not-Spiderman visibly floundered for a response, and the decathlon team started looking amongst themselves in question. Even Mr. Harrington looked at the guy with a wary glance.
“You know, you’re not who I’d thought you’d be,” Peter said, looking the man up and down.
The voice that was coming from him was barely his own, and he fought off a smirk knowing that Natasha would be proud.
“Well,” he cleared his throat, “You know what they say, kid. Don’t meet your heroes I guess.”
He opened his mouth to tell him exactly how stupid that was when the sound of heavy footsteps met his ears, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
“Well, well. Look at what we have here,” a gruff voice drawled from the door.
Peter leapt to his feet instinctually as everyone else jolted in surprise.
He was really starting to wonder if he committed some heinous crime in a past life because there was no way one person should be this unlucky.
Standing in the door with a rifle in hand, was an arm’s dealer that he could have sworn he put behind bars two weeks ago.
The others cried out in alarm when they noticed the weapon and froze where they were. The impersonator shrunk back, and if Peter didn’t know any better, he’d say he was looking for a way to hide behind Mr. Harrington.
Classy. Real classy.
“You know, I’d be careful wandering about so publicly when you have as many enemies as you do Mr. Spiderman,” the intruder said with a grin.
The man tutted.
“And you’ve brought me to all these wonderful little hostages too,” he leered.
Peter decided he was definitely going to kick the shit out of Not-Spiderman when it was all over.
“Come on, Spiderman! Kick his ass!” Flash shouted, rallying part of his team in excitement.
His heart lurched in his chest. The Spiderman in front of them couldn’t do anything, and they had no idea. His friends were going to get hurt because some idiot decided to play dress up, and-
Peter’s mind halted in its tracks. Nobody was going to get hurt. He was Spiderman. It didn’t matter if he had a secret identity or not. It was his job to protect the public, and if admitting a secret that was bound to eventually come out anyway was the cost, then he would gladly pay it over and over again.
Not-Spiderman made a show of steeling himself, standing up a little taller.
“I- You won’t get away with this. I’ll ask you just this once to put the gun down and get on the ground!” He said, his voice only wavering for a moment.
Peter had to give it to him. Idiot or not, the man had guts.
The intruder just grinned, his teeth just as twisted and dull as the last time he saw him. He could smell his breath from across the room.
“Cute, but you and I both know that you might be able to protect yourself, but you sure as hell can’t protect all of these kids and their lovely teacher.”
Not-Spiderman faltered. He apparently had exactly one plan, and it didn’t work.
“So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to call Stark and tell him to give me back what he owes me, and then you’re going to tell him that I expect a million dollars for each head in here. Is that clear?”
The eyes of the suit widened comically, and Peter wondered if that’s what he looked like when he was surprised.
He could hear Not-Spiderman swallow in fear.
“I-I can’t,” he whispered.
Terrified whispering broke out next to him. Everyone heard what he said.
“What do you mean you can’t? You better figure out a way to do it or else I start splattering some teenage brains against that wall,” the man snarled.
Not-Spiderman ripped his mask off of his face, and the others gasped in shock. Even the gunman recoiled slightly.
The man underneath the mask was average in appearance, but his eyes were red-rimmed and full of unshed tears.
“I’m not Spiderman. My name is Jonathan, and I- I just dress up as him sometimes, and I was just having fun with these kids, and-“
The intruder’s growl of discontent cut him off.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”
Jonathan stammered in fear, raising his hands in a way that appeared to be placating.
“Please, I’m sorry.”
Peter had heard enough. He cleared his throat and took a step forward, placing himself directly in front of everyone and ignoring the cries of his name and the gun that whirled to point directly at him.
He glanced at the barrel of the weapon and cocked a small smirk. The threat kind of lost its charm when it happened at least five times a week.
“Peter! What are you doing?” Mr. Harrington hissed.
“You know, the last time I saw you, it was when you were getting shoved into the back of a police car. What happened?” he asked casually.
As he slid his hands into his back pockets, he tapped the little black button on his watch that deployed the nanotech web shooters to his wrists.
They were only supposed to be used in an emergency, and he knew that Tony would be calling him within moments. He also knew that when he didn’t pick up, the man would suit up and fly to his location without a second’s hesitation.
There was no going back. The secret was officially out.
The intruder tilted his head in question, looking Peter up and down. He knew the man had to recognize his voice, but he couldn’t place it without the suit. He watched as the realization dawned on him.
“Your plan was pretty solid, man. I’ll give you that, but you got one tiny detail wrong. I’m fully capable of taking care of myself, and everyone behind me. In case you forgot, it’s kind of my thing,” he shrugged.
“Hey, come on, now. I’ll be like the other guy and give you a chance to put the gun down.”
The man’s face twisted in rage, and Peter’s senses screamed at him. Seems like negotiations were off the table.
Peter shot a web at the rifle and snatched it out of his hands before the trigger could be pulled. He fired the other web at his ankle and jerked it hard enough that the man lost his balance and fell backwards, his skull bouncing upon impact with the tile floor.
The man groaned in pain and reached up to cradle his head, but Peter was on him in seconds. He webbed his hands to his chest and bound his ankles together, effectively stopping him from any chance of getting away.
As an afterthought, he covered the man’s mouth in the adhesive for good measure.
There was movement out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to see Jonathan attempting to sneak out of the door.
Peter just rolled his eyes and webbed his hand to the doorknob.
“Sorry, bud, but you and I need to have a little discussion.”
Jonathan whimpered. Whimpered. Peter wondered just how many people he had believing Spiderman was an idiot.
He turned back to his classmates and teacher and was met with slack-jawed looks and total silence.
Except for Ned. His best friend was practically coming unglued at the seams from excitement.
“Uh, surprise?” he offered lamely, disengaging the web shooters on his wrist.
“So, that’s not Spiderman?” Mr. Harrington asked after a moment, lifting a shaking hand to point toward the man webbed to the door.
“Definitely not,” Peter said, his nose scrunching up in distaste despite himself. “And just to set the record straight, I wasn’t an experiment, and the webs don’t come out of my body. It’s synthetic and I make it in a lab.”
“You’re Spiderman?” Mr. Harrington asked, his voice low and slow, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.
“You mean that you geniuses never pieced that together?” MJ deadpanned, startling Peter. “He wasn’t doing that great of a job hiding it.”
“You- I- What?”
Peter was sure his brain had completely short-circuited. MJ knew? She knew this whole time and didn’t say anything?
He met her gaze, and there was a challenging sort of spark in her eyes that had a laugh threatening to bubble out of his throat despite everything that had happened.
“There’s no fucking way you’re Spiderman. This has to be a joke,” Flash said with an odd pitch to his tone.
Peter just threw his hands up in exasperation. It was a testament to how shaken up Harrington was considering he didn’t even reprimand the teen for his language.
“You have got to be the dumbest person I have ever met,” MJ snorted, reaching for her book that had gotten misplaced in the narrowly avoided disaster.
The dark-haired teen spluttered indignantly, and Peter honestly counted that as a win.
He opened his mouth in an attempt to explain himself, but he picked up on the familiar sound of repulsors in the distance. Something told him that the newest arrival wouldn’t take the time to come through the doors.
“I would scoot away from the windows if I were you,” he instead said with a wince.
The other’s started to murmur in question, looking at the windows that Peter was talking about, and immediately started to scramble away when a speck of red and gold in the sky got progressively larger and closer by the second.
Tony came crashing through the window, hand repulsors raised and primed to fire as he surveyed the room.
Peter shot him a sheepish wave and then gestured first to the wide-eyed man on the ground and then to the equally wide-eyed Jonathan stuck to the door.
Tony lowered his hands and took another look at the scene before tapping the housing unit on his chest. The nanotech crawled across his body and back into the reactor, and left the billionaire standing in a grease covered shirt and jeans, looking more confused than he ever had in his life.
“Hey, kiddo, you, uh, want to explain to me what’s going on here? I got the alert from Fri that you activated your shooters, and I rushed over” he said.
Some of Peter’s anxiety and anger fizzled out at the look on his mentor-turned-father-figure’s face, but he took another glance at his peers, saw as they shrunk back under Tony’s stare, and remembered what they had heard about him. It didn’t matter that they knew Jonathan was a fraud. The hero’s media presence was enough to keep them questioning.
Outrage rose up in him again, and he fought to reign it back in.
Tony must have noticed the look on his face because he took a step forward and softly placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“You okay, bambino? You’re not hurt, are you?”
The concern was as clear as day. Tony was worried.
“I’m alright, Mr. Stark.”
It was mostly true.
“Good. Now, I’d really like to know why there’s a weird guy on the floor that looks like he’s about to piss himself and why there’s another weird guy dressed like you stuck to the door,” he said again, completely ignoring the group of teenagers gawking behind Peter.
“Mr. Harrington thought he ran into someone that he thought was Spiderman and brought him here so he could meet us because you know the whole incident in D.C., and turns out, some arms dealer that I turned into the police two weeks ago followed him here and demanded that he call you to get his stuff back and ask for ransom money.”
Saying it out loud sounded more fake than it sounded in his head.
Tony opened and closed his mouth a few times and looked between the arms dealer on the floor and the impersonator before looking back to Peter.
“Judging by the webs, I’m guessing that the actual Spiderman had to step in?”
Peter nodded. He just hoped that Tony wasn’t mad at him. He did what he had to do.
“But you’re not hurt right?” Tony asked again, checking over him again.
Definitely not mad. He wouldn’t be looking at him with such relief if he was mad.
Just like Tony pretended that he hated hugs, Peter liked to pretend that he hated how everyone at the Tower and Compound doted over him like their son, nephew, or little brother.
“I’m fine, Mr. Stark,” he repeated.
Tony nodded and then looked to Jonathan.
“Where’d you get the suit, kid?”
“I, uh, well- you see- I’m just a really big fan of Spiderman, and I kind of look like him, and I thought that maybe I could make some people happy if I just dressed up as him and pretended. It was all harmless fun, I swear!”
Harmless fun? His sudden uptick in mood brought on by the blanketing presence that Tony emanated was smashed into the tile below his feet as he took in Jonathan’s shaking form. The world around him narrowed as he remembered exactly why they were in this position in the first place.
“That’s what you call harmless fun?” He demanded, stalking forward despite Tony calling his name. “Do you know what would have happened if I wasn’t here? These are my friends. They could have gotten killed.”
He could see the others still pressed against the wall flinch slightly, but he ignored it. He’d never been this enraged in his life.
“I’m sorry. I-“
“Sorry doesn’t cut it. This isn’t some kind of game. There are people out there that want nothing more than to see me dead. Do you understand that? Dead. They don’t care that you’re just playing dress-up. I’m actually surprised that you hadn’t gotten jumped sooner.”
“Peter,” Tony said softly.
He didn’t need to see the look in the man’s eyes to know what he was thinking. They didn’t like to talk about how there were people that wanted them all dead, his entire family, super or otherwise. It was a touchy topic.
The sound of Tony’s voice reminded him of another reason for his all-consuming rage. His shoulders heaved with it.
“Don’t think I forgot about what you said about Mr. Stark either,” he seethed. “How many people did you spout that shit to?”
Jonathan shook his head vigorously. He was absolutely terrified, and some sick and twisted part of Peter was pleased. He should stop. He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t.
“Mr. Stark is the best man I have ever met. He has given everything to make sure that we stay safe, and I’m not just talking about the Avengers. I’m talking about all of you. You will never understand how-“
“Peter,” Tony said firmly, placing himself in front of Peter and Jonathan. “That’s enough, cucciolo.”
Peter shook his head. He was so angry because even though he had exposed his identity willingly, it was because he was forced into a situation where he had to make that choice. Jonathan had the nerve to speak out against Tony when he knew nothing about him while also getting innocent people – people he cared a great deal about – killed.
He had almost gotten Ned killed.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
Tony’s face softened, and Peter knew that he understood. Sometimes he wondered if the genius could read his mind.
“Come here, Pete,” he breathed, pulling him into a hug that Peter fell willingly into. “Everyone is safe now. No one got hurt. I’m so proud of you.”
Peter melted into his arms and the rage started to slowly ebb away bit by bit.
Tony pulled him back and it felt like he was staring directly into his soul.
“You don’t have to defend me either, Underoos. I know what people think about me.”
He recoiled slightly. That wasn’t fair. Nobody should think about Tony like that.
“Just like I know that look,” he chuckled. “And as much as I appreciate it, I’m okay with it. The only opinions that matter are yours, Pepper’s, and the gremlins that eat all my food and run up my electricity bill.”
Peter snorted and looked over Tony’s shoulder at Jonathan, but the anger never resurfaced like it had before. He sighed and looked over to his stunned decathlon teammates.
“What now?” he asked.
“Right now, I think that we should contact the authorities to come retrieve Houdini stuck on the floor and then go get some ice cream. What happens next is up to you, bug boy.”
“Can you call the police while I talk to everyone?” he asked.
Tony smiled down at him and ruffled his hair.
“Sure thing, kiddo.”
Peter returned the smile and went back to the decathlon team as Tony stood over the arms dealer, phone in hand.
“I know that asking you all to keep this to yourselves is pretty much impossible. It was all going to get out eventually, but I would have liked to have some control over how it got out,” he paused to cut a sharp look at Jonathan. “But if you all can just keep the rumor mill to a minimum until Mr. Stark and I can get a press conference out, it would be greatly appreciated.”
For a few seconds, no one said a thing. They just blinked up at him. Ned was the first to break the silence with a grin that looked like it hurt.
“I’ve kept your secret for years now. What’s a few more days?”
He wondered what he did to deserve a friend like him.
“You saved us in D.C.,” Cindy said, as if the realization just hit her.
“Yeah. That was me,” he answered with a nervous chuckle.
“I think it’s only fair then,” Abe said. “We all owe you for that. I’ll keep your secret.”
There were several murmurs of agreement, and a warm feeling settled over Peter.
“What you do in your free time isn’t any of my business,” MJ shrugged.
Harrington stood shakily to his feet and approached him and clapped him lightly on the shoulder.
“Spiderman or not, you’re still my student, and I will do what it takes to keep you safe. My lips are sealed.”
He looked to Flash, the only one that hadn’t said anything since Tony came blasting through the windows.
The dark-haired teen looked around before sighing dramatically.
“I suppose I won’t say anything. Don’t think you’re still any less of a moron. You’re still just Parker.”
Peter figured that was the best he would ever get out of Flash and smiled anyway.
“Alright, bambino,” Tony said walking back over to him and slinging an arm over his shoulder. “NYPD is on their way, and someone should be here in the next few minutes. We should go ahead and get out of here before someone else sees your face. What are you going to do about the web head wannabe over there?”
He glanced over at Jonathan and snorted.
“The webs should dissolve in about an hour, and you’re free to go after that. Just don’t let me catch you pretending to be me again,” Peter said with a small smirk.
The horrified look on the guy’s face was enough. It was the little victories that counted sometimes.
“You can’t just leave me here!”
“Consider it your punishment.”
Tony choked on a laugh.
“You ready, kid?”
He knew Tony was asking more than just if he was ready to go, and he thought on it for a moment. Was he really ready for what happened next?
He met Tony’s questioning gaze and knew his answer. No matter what happened, he would always have someone in his corner. So, yeah. Peter was ready.
“Yes, sir,” Peter said before turning back to his team. “I’ll see you guys on Monday!”
He received a chorus of farewells as the two heroes made their way to the other less occupied exit.
Besides, ice cream was first. The rest could be worried about later.