[A/N: Hope you guys remember what you're reading. Because... might want to check the tags.

Slight spoiler(?) Warning minor Self Harm but only for the sake of disguise.]

"Hello, dear wife of mine!" Tony greeted lovingly as he entered Pepper's office.

"Yes, husband?" Pepper looked up from her paperwork with a small smirk on her face, the two still being very much in their honeymoon phase. They were constantly and endearingly finding ways of reminding themselves, and any other poor soul in the area, about their recent marriage.

Tony took the few strides needed to cross the room, and from behind his back, he revealed a paper bag with one hand and a large, poorly-hidden bouquet of assorted flowers with the other. "I brought you something," Tony smiled.

"I see that," Pepper grinned as she stood up. She walked around the desk to retrieve the flowers, taking a kiss from Tony in the process. "Are those chocolate chip muffins I smell? Are we celebrating something?" She was surprised as she took the flowers over to the countertop that lined one wall of the room. There she took out a vase from the top cupboard and filled it with water from the little sink.

"I don't know about celebrating, but I feel a pat on the back is appropriate," Tony said smugly as he took the bag of muffins over to the table that sat near the counter. Pepper placed the flowers in the middle of the table then they both sat in the comfortable chairs next to each other.

"Your talk with Peter went well?" Pepper asked, her own excitement breaking through her usually-professional demeanor.

"Fantastic, actually," Tony grinned as he pulled out the muffins for both of them, he set them on the napkins Pepper brought over from the counter. "I'll admit he was a little apprehensive about it, but Peter's agreed to do two other things outside of the Spider gig."

"Oh, Tony, that's great!" Pepper pulled Tony into a hug. "Has he decided what he wants to do yet?"

"Still deciding on the second option but he did tell me that he was alright with returning to the internship. Hey, you know, this could be a good opportunity for the two of you! He could head over here sometime after school and talk with you about the internship; think you could figure out what'll work?" Tony questioningly suggested with a raised eyebrow. "It might make for a nice bonding moment? Hey, who knows, you two could make it a regular lunch date when he comes over for the internship."

Pepper lit up with a smile. "I would love that." She let out a wistful sigh, "You two have your lab time and engineering, but I just-" she shook her head, "I don't know how to connect with him."

"Maybe the internship can act as a middle ground," Tony replied gently.

"I do hope so." She smiled sadly, "... he still flinches with me when I accidentally catch him off guard."

Tony placed his hand over hers. "We are doing everything we can for Peter, and you are being so patient with him."

"Guess I got enough practice with you." Pepper let out a small wet laugh, and she quickly looked up to avoid smearing her mascara.

"At least all those years were good for something," Tony joked as he handed her a napkin so she could dab her eyes.

"I just want him to have a proper family. I don't want him to worry. I don't want him to be scared. I- I just want him to feel loved," her voice wavered slightly, but like the pillar of stability that she was, she held strong.

"And that's exactly what we're doing," he held her hand comfortingly between both of his. "Giving him a family. It's just taking him a little time to grasp it. And he will, I promise you, he will eventually. Because, Pepper, I can see it in his eyes; he wants this family just as much as we're willing to give it."

Pepper let out a small sniff as she smiled, and quickly pulled Tony into a hug. "Since when did you become so inspirational?"

"Guess I'm getting wise in my years," Tony replied.

It was then both their phones dinged, only to be followed by FRIDAY's voice > Boss, you're gonna wanna see this. <

Both Starks pulled out their phones, and they looked down at the Daily Bugle's headline with concern.

***

"Bullshit!" was the first thing that drew his attention away from the Bugle's article. Looking over, he was a little surprised to see that Flash was the one protesting the accusation. Peter would have laughed if the situation wasn't so serious.

Peter's phone started to ring, and seeing that it was Tony, he quickly answered.

"Calling about the Bugle?" Peter answered.

"I wanted to see how you wanted to handle this," Tony replied. "Pepper and I have dealt with bad press before-"

" I dealt with the press," Pepper interrupted from the background.

" As I was saying, we'll get right on this and make sure Spider-Man's name is cleared," Tony continued.

"Actually... I kinda wanted to handle this myself," Peter said nervously.

"Peter wants to handle this himself," Tony said, sounding like he put distance between himself and the phone.

"Really? How?" Pepper asked, her voice sounding slightly distant.

"What's your plan, Pete?" Tony said, his voice sounding clearer and closer to the phone.

"Um, well, I modified your baby monitor protocol. I'm calling it the Spider-Eye; it's programmed to record all my outings for investigative purposes and to, well, clear up confusions like this," Peter explained.

"Huh, that's actually pretty clever," Tony sounded impressed and Peter felt a wave of relief at his answer. "Nice going, kid."

Peter beamed, "Yeah, thanks! I thought, you know, might as well. It could clear things up if needed."

"So, who do you plan on sending this to? Jonah himself or another news outlet?" Tony asked.

"Well, actually, I was thinking of sending it to Lieutenant Anderson. If the police released a formal statement, it would go smoother in the long run and it might even open up opportunities for Spider-Man to work with them later on - but I'm not really sure about that last part. I haven't thought about that part much," Peter said quickly.

"Anderson's a good choice, though wouldn't a cop stationed in Queens be better?" Tony asked.

"His partner moved to another state; Anderson was transferred to Queens," Peter provided. He made sure to see what the two officers were up to after the career-boosting case involving Peter himself along with the bust of the illegal animal fighting ring.

"Well that's convenient," he said, a little surprised. "It seems like you got this handled. I'll let you get started on that and we'll see how it goes," Tony said cheerfully.

"Okay, sounds good. Um, I'll see you later," Peter said.

"Alright, see ya, kiddo. And good luck," Tony said before hanging up.

Peter let out a long breath. Logically, he knew it was a good idea to have the Spider-Eye for events like this but a small part of him was still worried that Tony might be angry at the idea. If he was being really honest with himself, the constant approval was a little more stressful than he expected, almost like it was too good to be true. For once, he was glad he had his weekly visit with Dr. HAL today. He felt like that was something he needed to bring up.

"Karen?" Peter said to his phone is a low voice so as not to be overheard.

> Yes, Peter? <

"Proceed with the Spider-Eye Protocol."

> Right away! < she said cheerfully.

There was a short honk down near the street where parents picked their kids up that pulled his attention away. Peter could see Happy waving towards him through a rolled-down window. Peter glanced around seeing no sign of Ned or MJ who would usually be finished with Decathlon practice at this time, it wasn't until he had already closed the car door and buckled himself into the front seat that he checked his phone.

Ned: Can't meet after school. Helping MJ and Mr. H plan next comp

Ah, that explained it.

"So, how was school, Pete?" Happy asked as he glanced at the rearview mirror before pulling the car forward through the congested streets.

"Eventful," Peter said shortly, but then decided to elaborate. "Flash and I are science partners, but he and I are cool. I've already decided we're going to be friends now so he doesn't have a say in the matter whether he actually wants to or not," he said, amused with his own antics. "Oh right! And Spider-Man is being accused of robbery but that's being handled," Peter looked down at his phone.

Happy only gave him a glance before saying, "Oh... well, that's interesting," sounding like he obviously did not know how to respond to that. Despite his many, many years dealing with a man like Tony Stark, Peter was his own kind of ridiculousness.

Despite his quirks causing difficulties conversation-wise, Happy wouldn't have it any other way. "Wanna grab some burgers on the way home?" he asked.

"Hell yeah! I'm starving," Peter said cheerfully.

***

After finishing his burgers with Happy and getting back to the penthouse, Peter went straight into Tony's office. He went straight to the desk and plopped himself in the cushy office chair. Moments later, the hologram blinked to life and displayed in a large font " Dr. HAL" .

Both Tony and Pepper were out which was more or less done on purpose. It was a lot easier talking to the therapist when he had the peace of mind that no one would accidentally walk in.

> Hello, Nor, < a firm but gentle male voice spoke. Peter picked the tone himself; Dr. Hal was unique in the fact that he was more customizable than the other personal assistant programs, which was a decision that the AI itself came up with after its psychiatric database was incorporated. With the user allowed to decide what voice it spoke to them in, it was a little easier to open up to it.

There were a number of sound files that Peter went through, the one he finally settled on to remind him of his uncle. At least, what little he could remember of him.

> Is that what you're still referring to yourself as? < Hal continued.

Peter nodded.

> Have you considered why you think that? Last time you said you weren't sure. <

If Peter was being honest with himself, he still had no idea why. "So today Flash and I were paired up as partners." Peter deflected. They were both well aware of what he was doing but instead of pushing for a response, Dr. HAL simply said, > Well, that must have been a surprise! < with a humorous tone.

Maybe next time he'll try to have an answer for Dr. HAL.

***

Peter still had to decide what his second non-spider activity would be. He sat through his classes with the usual 'It's finally Friday' jitters that every student experiences. Those same jitters were only exemplified by the fact that Peter promised himself that he would find some extracurricular by the end of the day, but as the final bell rang, he still didn't have an answer.

Furthermore, he hated the idea of wasting his time with something he didn't care about when he could better spend it as Spider-Man and, you know, actually helping people.

Peter let out a small, frustrated breath as he walked through the hallways that were flooding with students. The hallways would be empty soon, but that didn't make their prolonged exit any less irritating. He was wandering aimlessly since he had no desire to leave school without a decision, and Ned and MJ would be stuck in Decathlon practice for another hour.

Eventually, Peter found himself near the front office, looking over the school bulletin board. There was no better place to look since all the current clubs and activities were available there. There were clubs of all types, from Band to the recently commissioned Dungeons and Dragons club, to join. But he had already read over those notices. Everything was either too uninteresting to consider or would take more time then he was willing to commit. Not to mention, most of the big clubs were competitive and often had trips to compete in.

He tried that out with Decathlon; it definitely wasn't worth the hassle when he also had to juggle being Spider-Man... Though he will admit, it was handy to have an excuse to go out of the state that one time.

"'Scuse me," a teacher said politely. Peter was pulled out of his thoughts as he shuffled out of the way. He watched the teacher post a colorfully designed flier on the board.

ART CLUB!

Everything From Painting to Photography!

Mr. Walker's Room 220a-220b

A word stood out to him.

> Photography? < Peter sighed. That would be perfect for what Peter was looking for. He wouldn't have to worry about competitions; he could just say he's doing it for fun and it would give him a fantastic excuse to roam the city to "look for good shots". He could use that time to do some footwork on investigations as well as a low profile patrol.

The teacher turned towards Peter with an excited grin. "Are you interested?"

> I think so, yeah, it looks fun ,< Peter nodded quickly.

"Fantastic! I don't think I've had you in any of my classes - I'm Mr. Walker," the teacher provided. "We have club meetings every day after school since we're a bit of a melting pot but with the amount of collaboration that goes on between the different art types, I think it's a great benefit. We're a fairly large club so we meet in both the art room and the southern computer lab next to it. I'm heading that way if you want to join me?"

Peter glanced towards the front doors of the school. With the large glass windows, he could tell Happy wasn't there yet, so he shot off a quick text to the man to let him know he didn't need a ride today. > Yeah, maybe you can tell me more about it on the way? < he then said to Mr. Walker.

"Of course!" the teacher said enthusiastically. Peter followed the man down the hall. The art room was almost on the other side of the building. "Now, there aren't that many in the photography portion of the club right now but we're hoping to fix that this year. The school wants to encourage the students into entering their pieces into competitions. Right now, we only have one student, Priscilla Ironwood, who could enter photos, but the school doesn't want to use funds for a one-student trip to this year's composition in Detroit. So... if you were interested in missing a few days of school, there are plenty of entry-level competitions you could try." He gave Peter a small encouraging nudge.

Peter just smiled shyly. > I don't know about that, but I'll think about it, < he said, for the sake of not completely lying. Should he enter the competition? Answer: No. See? There, he thought about it. Sorry, Priscilla, it looks like you're not going to composition this year.

"Take your time. There's still another month for applicants to sign up." Mr. Walker said as they approached the art room. "So here we are!" He presented the borderline chaotic room with a wave of his arm.

There were at least twenty people in the art room and a handful of groups scattered around the area. Some were working on charcoal sketches, others painting. There was a boy in the corner nodding his head to the beat coming from the radio as he layered newspapers on shaped chicken wire. Someone had turned on a hairdryer plugged in near the sink; the pink-haired girl using it was gently waving the hairdryer at her paper as if trying to get the air to contact it at just the perfect angle.

"You'll want to go this way," Mr. Walker said as he motioned towards the door on the left wall. It opened into the computer lab; the room was much quieter in comparison to the other but still just as busy. On the computer screens, students were working even more projects. Some were video editing, others doing animation, and there were even students using tablets to draw on.

Peter's spider-sense gave a gentle alert. He was quick to spot the camera lens to his right.

Suddenly there was a bright flash in Peter's face. He faked surprise by taking a small step back and rubbed his eyes in the process.

"That would be Priscilla," Mr. Walker laughed. "What have I told you about startling the new recruits like that?"

"Hey, by this point, it's a right of passage," she shrugged nonchalantly. From behind the camera, Peter could see square, bronze-framed glasses glint against the light of the room. Her short, dirty-blond hair fell forward covering part of her face as she looked down at the picture on her camera. With the attitude of someone who's done it a thousand times before, she flicked her head, forcing the hair out of her way. "Huh, you are surprisingly photogenic." She frowned at the photo.

> Sorry? <

"She's just upset she can't put a funny picture of you on the club member's board," Mr. Walker chuckled.

> Always glad to foil an evil plan. < Peter grinned.

Priscilla shot him an exaggerated glare before looking back at Mr. Walker. "So what's the new guy's poison?"

"You're looking at the newest member of the photography portion of the club," said Mr. Walker proudly. Peter gave a shy wave to accompany the news.

"Finally! I don't have to be the only one anymore." Priscilla suddenly gasped, "Wait! Does this mean that we get to go to composition this year?!"

"That's a possibility, but I think it's a little too early for Peter to decide," he replied. It was then that someone from the art room called Mr. Walker's name. "That seems to be my cue. I'll let Priscilla give you the photography tour."

Peter watched as the man walked over to the girl who previously had the hairdryer, and she started talking to him about something with the painting she was doing.

"Seeing as you already know who I am, and everyone in New York knows who you are, we can skip right over to the camera stuff." Priscilla then turned quickly on her heels and walked over to a large metal cabinet. Peter took a few hesitant steps to follow her.

"This is where we store the cameras. Mr. Walker lets you borrow them whenever you want so long as you write your name on the sheet and mark which camera you took out. They are all completely identical... that being said, number 3 is my favorite and I will fight you for it," she warned. "But, I doubt you'll be using any of these ones since you'll be getting your own soon anyway."

Peter tilted his head with a questionable look.

"Were you not planning to get your own camera later? Since you're living with Tony Stark, I doubt he'll have you settle for some school rental," she remarked. There was an immeasurable amount of sass behind it that Peter skillfully ignored. Though he still couldn't help but frown at the assumption.

> I'm still deciding if I want to do photography or not. <

"Either way," Priscilla shrugged, "it's not like he can't afford it."

> Anywa y,< Peter said, trying to move on from the conversation, > I'm sure there's more to photography than just snapping pictures, right? <

"Obviously! Grab a camera so I can show you how to mess with the settings," she replied.

Priscilla spent the next half hour showing Peter the basics of photography. She went over ISO settings and showed him how to adjust it, what lighting different levels were used in, what type of shutter speeds were appropriate for what images, and tips on using the aperture correctly when focusing on a subject. Then for the next half hour after that, she went over everything again but this time quizzing him on certain aspects.

"What happens if your ISO is too high?"

> The image could look grainy and the brightness might be too much. <

"What kind of shutter speed do you use on moving objects?"

> Set it towards the faster speed. Slower shutter speeds are used for still subjects or long exposures for effects. <

"What is the aperture and what is it used for?"

> It's the blades that can be open and close in the camera lens. It's used to adjust light and focus. <

"Impressive," she smirked. "Didn't think you'd catch on so quick."

Peter just gave an innocent shrug.

"Well, that's really all you need to know for the basics so I suggest using that knowledge to take pictures. It's mostly trial and error from here... and developing an eye for things," Priscilla added. "Once you've got some images, I'll show you then how to spruce them up in photoshop. Hopefully, you can get a small portfolio together for the composition next month."

> I haven't decided if I'm doing that quite yet, < Peter said again.

"Oh trust me, you'll be going. I've been waiting two years to finally get another person in the group. I will drag you there myself if I have to," she warned.

Peter laughed quietly to himself. I'd like to see you try , he thought.

He didn't stay at school much longer than that. Priscilla showed him a few YouTubers that were good for beginners to watch as well as going over some basic dos and don'ts of photography. Though most of those were exclusive to beginners, like any art form, once you're familiar with the rules, you can start breaking them to further express creativity. Not that Peter will be taking any of this to heart; it is just a cover, after all. He's only learning enough to make it seem like he's getting into a new hobby.

With joining a club checked off his mental list, now was onto the next task: finding John.

He didn't call for Happy, Tony, or Pepper as he pushed his way into the dark empty gym. His steps were naturally quiet against the sleek basketball court as he made his way towards the locker rooms. He was going to swing his way home later, but for now, he needed a disguise. It needed to be something that Peter didn't normally wear, and taking something from one of the other students' spare clothes would work perfectly. He justified this decision by promising himself he'd return it before anyone noticed the missing items on Monday.

Lockpicking was an easy and useful skill to develop as a courier. When things got heated after Peter was led behind locked doors to deliver packages, it was a necessary skill to know if he wanted to be at the next drop off in time. The Deadeyes were somewhat of a 'volatile' gang, and that was putting it lightly. Fights breaking out between lower-ranked members was a common occurrence.

It took only three lockers to find a fitted black long-sleeve and a dark green button-up shirt. It was after the fifth that he found a forgotten blue scarf tucked away on the top shelf. Since it was the top half of clothes that most people kept their attention to, he kept his own boots and jeans because the dull colors that he chose were there specifically to avoid standing out.

He looked himself in the mirror to check the disguise over. He tugged the open button-up over to one side so a sleeve hung lower than the other, causing the shirt to look crooked. He completely messed up his hair, even going so far to use a very tiny bit of hair gel he found to make it seem greasy and matted in some places. He tried to tousle it in a way that it would cover the upper part of his scar then used the scarf to conceal the bottom half of his face.

He frowned at his own image, dissatisfied. The clothes were too pristine and his scar was still visible enough to draw attention. If his hair was just a little longer then he'd be fine, but with his usual cut, it was far too exposed. He'll need to let it grow out, but for now, he'll have to figure something else out.

Pulling down his scarf, he leaned over the sinks to get a better image of himself in the mirror as he shifted his head to the side to run his finger down one of the claw marks.

He could use makeup, but he doubted that any tutorial he could learn in less than an hour would look convincing. Hoods were out of the question since he was growing known for them, and although his time as Nor influenced a rise in masks, they usually only covered the bottom half of the face so a full-face mask would only draw attention.

Peter huffed in annoyance as he pulled the scarf back up. He almost left but paused as he noticed something when he took one last glance at himself.

The edge of his scar almost looked like a light bruise. One that had time to heal but was still partly prominent.

Now that was an idea.

A black eye would distract enough from the scar. If he aimed right, he could take advantage of swelling skin to hide it completely. It was then that the thought connected. It would look even more convincing if he looked like he got out of a losing fight. It would be relatively easy to dirty up the clothes. He'd just have to wash them before he returned them to their rightful lockers.

Right, that's what he was going to do. As bizarre as it sounded, he needed to beat himself up. Pulling down his scarf one last time, he sighed. He wished he could be Nor again. Hiding would be so much easier, he'd still have his old contacts, and he wouldn't have to go through this whole charade to go places he could have previously walked into with no problem.

Unfortunately, that bridge was burned when his name was released to the press.

Whatever.

Peter was nothing if not adaptable.

Balling his right hand into a fist, then, without hesitation:

Once .

Twice .

Three times -

Crack!

Shit.

He broke his nose.

In this particular situation, his durability was more of a hindrance than a help. To injure himself, he needed to use his super strength. Unfortunately, he might have used a little too much.

The pain was... not nearly as much as he thought it would be. Losing fights in the arena was a good way to raise pain tolerance; hell, he was pretty good at managing physical pain beforehand. May found out pretty quick that physical abuse wouldn't cut it - that's how she developed her fucked-up psychological warfare.

Peter breathed heavily through his mouth as his nose filled with blood. He leaned over the sink to let the fluid drain down into the basin. Looking up into the mirror he could see his eye was quickly reddening as the swelling slowly developed. Within the hour, it would begin the process of healing, so by the time he stumbled down some stairs or rolled around in the dirt, it would be a sickly dark purple when he got to the subway.

To fix the pressing problem of his broken nose healing wrong, he quickly pressed the balls of his palms against the boney bridge of his nose. He shifted the bone back in place, causing a bloom of pain to pules through the area. A new surge of clotting blood rushed its way into the sink.

He waited for the blood to slow to a near stop before he started to clean up. His bruises were darkening and by the time he left the building through the gym's broken emergency exit, it was difficult to keep his eye open.

He decided to take advantage of the nearby park's stairs. It was much easier to dirty up his clothes and avoid extreme injury when all he had to rely on was gravity.

The bruises would only be dark enough for a few hours, so after checking his disguise one last time in a closed shop's window, he was glad to be satisfied with the results.

"Time to get to work," he smirked at himself.

Traversing through the city on the ground unseen was like riding a bike. He hadn't been gone long enough for his mental map of the city to change and he passed through the shadows like it was his second skin.

It was strangely... comforting. It provided him a much-needed relief from the weight that usually accompanies him when standing in the light where people could see him. Where they could watch him. Judge him.

People always assumed they could see everything just because the light was shining on it. The bright pretty world where everyone thinks it's all laid out plain and simple... but that was simply far from the truth.

Exposing light on the subject would always provide the opportunities for well-crafted lies to blend in, but at least in the dark, you knew something could be hiding.

With purposely heavy steps, Peter took an old set of stairs into one of those wonderfully dark places: the old train station hideout Nor was familiar with. Getting to the bottom of the stairs, he took a turn down narrow hallways. The darkness was pushed back by dim old Christmas lights, and he followed the line of them to the platform where the main bar and hangout was.

Just as expected, he blended in with a few others wearing masks. His dirty clothes matched that of many others walking around the area, and no one even batted an eye at his injuries - some even preferred looking away. Although his methods were drastic in his disguise, the results were worth it. His full plan fell into place when he spotted the person he did this all for.

He approached one table made from an industrial-sized spool after spotting a familiar red hood. "Rory Hendric. I knew I'd find you here," Nor spoke in a low, almost dangerous tone. "Or are you still going by Red?"

The boy, who was actually nearly two years older than Peter, looked over at him. A flash of worry crossed his face but he quickly covered it with a sly smile and charming look, "Would sure like to know who's asking."

"Usually people remember the one who saved their life, but I'll give you a break since it was nearly a year ago," Nor said with a hint of amusement.

Red's eyes widened at the realization, "No fucking way." He took a quick glance around the room as if worried anyone else in the subway made the same connection along with him.

"I'm calling in that debt," Nor said plainly, ignoring Red's shock and wanting to get straight to business.

Red swallowed nervously, "What- uh, what do you need me for? Kinda looks like you have things set living with St-" He side-eyed the table next to them where a meth head drooled against his own arm as he slept, "living with you know. " It was then he glanced at Nor's face and winced, "Unless you got the short straw again... He didn't-"

"No, never," Nor interrupted quickly. "It's makeup," he lied. "Had to hide my scar."

Red let out a small laugh, "Right, I remember when I couldn't go more than an hour without seeing your face plastered on a screen or paper. I doubt anyone here would welcome you... Still, like I said, if you're living with that guy now, why do you need me? With all that - those resources " he corrected himself (because you didn't just talk about money so openly in a place like this; it seems he's learned that since last time they met). "You can get whatever you want," he continued.

Nor could appreciate his subtlety, even if it needed some work, "Come now, Red, connect the dots. Even with that, it can't always get me what I need in a city like this. Especially if it's associated with him."

"Oh, right... but why would you want to? This place, the streets, everythin' down here's a shithole. If I had what you had, I'd take that golden ticket and never look back," Red looked down at the table, his eyes filled with his own troubles and worries.

"Believe me, I know as well as anyone that no one ever wants to be here. My situation was a peculiar one anyways," Nor paused then looked up to drag his eyes around the room. A few familiar faces he had known around were gone, new ones, younger ones, took their places. Peter could empathize with them - all of them. "Back then it was a job; now it's a responsibility. But before I can get to that, I need your help finding someone."

"No offense, but you weren't exactly hanging around vegans and pacifists," Red huffed.

"That's not true."

Red raised his eyebrow.

"There was a dealer in Flatbush who's vegan."

Red couldn't help but laugh, "So now that you can talk, you're a comedian, huh?"

Peter gave an innocent shrug. "I try."

There was a beat of silence before Red's smile faded and worry overtook his features. "I know I owe you, and I wanna help... but what's stopping these guys from killing me?" he said quietly.

"New York's Web-head."

"No- What? How!?" Red asked, shocked.

"Long story short, once you know one hero, it's easy to contact the rest. He's agreed to watch your back while you do this." Nor hoped that sounded reassuring enough to ease Red's worries.

Red ran his hand through his hair, a common nervous tick, before using it to cover his mouth in thought. He took in a breath before speaking, "Fine, alright. If he's there then yeah, I'll do it," he said reluctantly. "But just - whatever happens, I can't get arrested again. I turned 18 last month. If I get caught now, I'll go straight to jail," he said helplessly.

"He'll be running point on this, so as long as you do exactly what he says, no one will catch you. Got it?"

Red nodded; his obvious nervousness about the whole situation was only growing.

"He'll find you tomorrow at 11 pm; be on a rooftop." With that, Nor stood up to leave. He already knew who Red would be meeting with and where they would be, so all he had to do now was wait until tomorrow night.

Once outside, he climbed up to a secluded rooftop to change into his Spider-Suit. He couldn't go home quite yet; he needed to wait till his bruises were healed. He didn't want to worry Pepper or Tony.

[A/N: I do hope everyone remembers what story you're reading.

:}

You shouldn't forget what I'm capable of.]