chapter xxxi.
(   homecoming   )

oops, i did it again, i forgot what i was
losing my mind about, i only wrote this
down to make you press rewind and send
a message, "i was young and a menace"
young & menace ─── fall out boy

outdoors
august 4, 2016

Peter sinks deeper into the dark blue water, his lungs beginning to burn and his mind beginning to feel blurry. The parachute stays wrapped all around his flailing arms and legs, trapping him in place and making the fifteen year old boy realize that he's going to drown. That is until two white-light burning hands suddenly snatch underneath his arms and yank him up from out of the water.

Peter's legs hang below him and, as his mind begins to clear, he hears this weird whirring sound... almost like someone's repulsors. His eyes widen underneath his mask and a smile twists at his lips, turning up to look at Lisa as she flies him towards land. But it's not Lisa. No, he's suspected an entirely different Stark than the one currently rescuing him.

"Oh!" Peter awkwardly stares up at the upgraded Iron Man suit, "Oh... hey."

Boy, is he in trouble now.

The suit silently sets him down on top of one of the nearby playsets and the fifteen year old begins wringing out his suit. As he tries to warm himself up, Peter tries to describe all of what just happened while trying to leave out some very important details that he imagines a certain sister of his would very much like him to leave out.

"And then he just, like, swooped down like a monster, and he picked me up, and-and took me up like a thousand feet and just dropped me!" Iron Man just stares at him and, shivering, Peter awkwardly claps his hands together and hunches his shoulders in, "How'd you find me? Did you put a tracker in my suit or something?"

"I put everything in your suit." Tony responds nonchalantly, motioning a hand forward, "Including this heater."

"Whoa!" Heat suddenly bursts through the material on Peter's dripping form, steaming away the water and warming his shivering body up. "Whew! That's better. Thanks."

There's a short pause where the suit just stares at the fifteen year old with narrowed blue eyes and Peter casually glances around, multitasking in trying to avoid the one of the Stark's hard gaze all the while desperately searching for the other one.

"What were you thinking?" Tony's voice suddenly sounds both hard and serious; still not angry, just worried.

Throwing out a hand, Peter gets immediately defensive of his and his sister's actions, "The guy with wings is obviously the source of the weapons! We-I gotta take him down!"

"'Take him down now', huh?" Tony mimics back, ignoring his slip up, "Steady, Crockett, there are people who handle this type of thing."

"The Avengers?"

"No, no, no!" The suit strangely motions out a hand, pointing for... something that Peter doesn't see, "This is a little below their pay grade."

"Anyway," Peter quickly waves dismissively at him, "Mr. Stark, you didn't have to come out here, I had that, I was fine."

"Oh, I'm not... here."

The Iron Man mask flips up to reveal, well, no one.

Tony Stark, wearing his usual sunglasses, raises his head and straightens from the cement gate he's been leaning against. Music plays in the background and the sun is shining and the air is comfortably warm. Dressed in a traditional white suit and a red scarf, Tony attends some kind of random celebration in India. He decided to take Lisa's advice about finding something to do and get help so he went to some secluded city in India to try to recoup and refresh and clear his mind, but then... Peter.

"Thank God this place has Wi-Fi or you would be toast right now." A waiter comes over to bring Tony the drink he ordered, "Thank Ganesh while you're at it." He mumbles quietly, "Cheers."

Ganesh walks away and Tony takes a sip of his yellow non-alcoholic drink, again taking Lisa's advice of staying away from alcohol. People mill all around, laughing and talking as the Stark moves through them.

Taking on a hard and fatherly tone, Tony tries to convince the fifteen year old on the other line, "Look, forget the flying vulture guy, please."

"Why?!" Peter whines, not understanding why Tony is holding him back like this.

"Because why?!" Tony snaps back with a yell, straightening and puffing out his chest as another teenager challenges him, "Because I said so!"

Tony glares off into space, eyeing the boy who he can see through the camera in his tinted sunglasses. A local woman suddenly breaks his scowl and sets a necklace of flowers around his neck, making him sigh and motion to her in apology.

"Sorry, I'm talking to a teenager." He waves the statement away and sucks in what is meant to be a deep and calming breath, "God, these kids are going to be the death of me..."

He shakes his head to focus back on the boy he promised himself he would keep safe. For his sake and for hers...

"Stay close to the ground! Build up your game helping the little people, like that lady that bought you the churro...?"

Peter scrunches his lips at the empty Iron Man suit before he scowls off past the water.

Tony heaves another sigh, feeling a lot more stress than he can handle at the moment. He winces at the pain in his left arm, resting his arm and his drink on a wall nearby.

"Can't you just be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?"

"But I'm ready for more than that now!" Peter's voice gets high as he argues back.

The Iron Man mask snaps back down as Tony sternly states, "No. You're not."

"That's not what you thought when I took on Captain America!"

"Trust me, kid. If Cap wanted to lay you out, he would've." Tony continues to look out for the kid, "Listen to me. If you come across these weapons again, call Happy."

An engine suddenly roars and Peter pulls an irritated face, "Are you driving?"

"You know, it's never too early to start thinking about college. I got some pull at MIT. That's where she went." Tony shrugs in satisfaction before revving up his car and driving away, "End call."

"No, I don't need to go to-, Mr. Stark!"

F.R.I.D.A.Y. carelessly interrupts the boy, "Mr. Stark is no longer connected."

The Iron Man suit suddenly turns around and sails back up into the sky, leaving the boy sitting all alone in the dark park.

"That's awesome." Peter sarcastically mumbles, puffing out his cheeks and jumping down to the ground.

With a tinge of panic setting in, he starts jogging through the park to find Lisa who hopefully is somewhere close by, who hopefully isn't dead. He pulls his mask back over his face quickly and spins in a couple of circles, scouring the trees and the bushes.

"Lisa?!" He whisper-shouts, "Lisa!"

He cannot believe this. He literally cannot believe this. He had a sister for two months. Two months! He barely got any time to know her, and then he goes ahead and gets her killed! Dear God, what if he never finds her?! What if she's lying somewhere, bleeding out and calling out for him?! What is he going to tell May?! What is he going to tell Maria when she grows up without a mom?! Oh God, what is he going to tell Mr. Stark or even her not-my-boyfriend, Mr. Black Panther?! He is literally the worst brother in the world! The worst sibling in history!

With all of this panic distracting him, Peter's feet suddenly trip and his brown brows bend when he looks down to find that he's stumbled on the gun that own of the men dropped from the back of the van; it's a broken and deformed with a strange purple glowy thingy inside of it. Peter hums to himself, bending down and turning the gun over with an interested expression.

His distraction is then distracted when the yodeling picks up again and he finally answers a call from Ned, "Hey, what's up? I'm on my way back."

"Actually," Ned interrupts with a cringe, "I was calling to say maybe you shouldn't come. Listen." A collection of harsh chants come back over the speaker, making Peter's face fall and Ned sigh, "Sorry, Peter. I guess we're still losers. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you tomorrow in school." Peter replies quietly, trying to shrug it off and focus back on the glowy thingy.

"Peter!" A voice yells in the distance, making the boy straighten and his eyes light up.

Relief floods into his expression and he has no problem admitting that he's happy that the sister he's only known about for two months is, in fact, not squashed into a human pancake.

"Lisa!" Peter shoved the glowy thingy into his suit and eagerly jumps up, only to look around and frown, "Wait, where are you?"

"Don't worry, I'm-ouch!" The twenty year old girl shrieks in the distance and Peter winces when he hears a tree branch loudly snap, "-Ugh, I-I'm coming, hold on."

Peter stays standing by a discarded tricycle before Lisa struggles out of the foliage with leaves stuck in her hair and dirt smudged in her face. She stumbles on the bushes lining the edge of the forest and trips into the clearing, groaning and heaving a tired sigh.

"Lees! Oh God, yes! You're alive!" Peter excitedly cheers and runs over to her.

Just when she straightens up, Peter collides into Lisa and shocks her when he wraps her tightly in a hug. The twenty year old laughs a little as the two stumble and sway around, the younger boy who is taller rocking her a bit.

Lisa pulls away to look at him with wide eyes, all the while shaking broken twigs out of her hair, "Are you okay?"

Peter gives her an incredulous look, "Am I okay? Are you okay? You got kicked in the face and then fell from the sky, all limp and passed out!"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She rubs at the dirt on her cheek, smearing a bit of blood in with it, "I woke up about twenty feet above the ground. My thrusters caught me a bit, but I didn't have the softest landing, ya know?"

"But you're not seriously maimed or injured?"

Lisa puffs a laugh, then winces at a pain in her ribs, "Not seriously, thankfully. But you're soaking wet! What happened to you?"

Peter purses his lips, hating the gross feeling in his chest as he hides the glowy thingy from her. Peter wants to tell Lisa. He really does. He just knows she won't react the way he wants her to.

And so, he doesn't tell her.

♕♕♕

"Idiots. Idiots. Idiots!" Adrian Toomes angrily yells as he stands within his warehouse.

"Boss?" Mason speaks up from his work table, motioning to Toomes' cellphone, "Your wife keeps texting you. Something about a brake light...?"

Toomes pulls an irritated expression over at him, "What'd I tell you about looking at my phone?"

"Sorry. You left it out. You know I'm a curious person by nature." Mason says this as if it's obvious before he grows sort of awkward, still wanting his way, "I finished designing that high-altitude vacuum seal... In case you want to, you know, go for the big one?"

"You're still on that?" Toomes looks at him in that same old lingering irritated disbelief before waving his hand, "I told you and Michael both, no. The answer's no. Forget it."

A broken down and beaten up van suddenly interrupts their conversation, screeching into the warehouse that Toomes Salvage Company has made their illegal hub. Brice jumps out of the now doorless back of the van, giddy and grinning like an idiot. Schultz and Michael slowly follows out after him, the latter's eyes narrowed and his cold hands shaking with anger.

Michael needs to keep calm, stay level-headed. He's not smart when he's not level-headed. He repeats it in his head like a mantra: 'I'm calm, I'm calm, I'm calm, I'm calm'. But he can't deny that there's a twisting in his stomach and a spinning in his head. Seeing her set everything off. He wasn't prepared for that; he didn't expect her to show up out of the blue with that costumed freak.

She nearly ruined everything, just when he was nearly finished ruining her.

There's still the plan. He has to stick to the plan. But his hands are shaking and his leg is twitching and and the brace on his back keeps zapping and oh God, he doesn't want her to make him feel this way.

I'm calm.

I'm calm.

I'm calm.

I'm calm.

Brice doesn't seem to notice that everyone else is giving him a dirty look when he carelessly gushes, "I mean, that was awesome."

"How many times have I told you not to fire them out in the open?" Toomes snaps across the warehouse, setting his hands on his sides.

"You said, move the merchandise."

"Under the radar. Under the radar!" Toomes euniciates loudly, "That's how we survive! If you bring Damage Control or the Avengers down here, we're through. You're out there wearing that goofy thing, lighting up cars, calling yourself the Shocker!" He mimics his ridiculous title with a low voice, "'I'm the Shocker, I shock people.' What is this, pro wrestling?"

"Whatever, old man." Brice scoffs and tries to move around him only to come face to face with Michael.

The darker skinned man stands in his lath, the raging tremble in his hands growing stronger.

Brice squints at the man, tilting his head back in mockery, "You got a problem, pretty boy, you better do something about it or you better get outta my face."

Oh, the things Michael could do to him...

I'm calm.

I'm calm.

I'm calm.

I'm calm.

Still, the corner of Michael's lip twitches up and he just nods a little, stepping back and giving him his space.

The other man arrogantly scoffs while Toomes still tries to manage the situation, "Look, I know you don't give a crap about anything. But I do. I built this whole place because I got people I have to look after."

Michael can feel a pain burst through the electric spinal brace connected to his flesh and then shoot down his limp leg and his once smirking lip twists down into a barely visible grimace.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Brice mocks back, carelessly jerking his head back in forth.

Toomes just stares at him for a long moment, mouth open before he squints, "You know what? I can't afford your bullcrap." He nods his head towards the door, "Get out of here."

"What?"

"You're done." Toomes spits in unforgiveness, "You're off the crew."

Michael can feel his teeth slowly begin to show, breaking through his lips in something that maybe can considered joy.

"Yeah, all right. All right." Brice swallows and nods in threat, "Wonder if you can afford me out there, though, right? With everything I know."

Michael's eyes narrow and he tilts his head after the man, "You want to repeat yourself, Brice?"

"I'm just saying..." The jerk whirls back around to point back at him, "Maybe your little wife would like to know who you really are... Huh?"

It feels as if all of the air has been sucked out of the dark room.

Michael can feel the tremble shoot up from his hands and into his chest. Oh yes, the trembling takes him over, but it's not from fear. No, no, it's from rage. His never-ending, his all-consuming rage.

Lisa Stark is not his wife. Not really. Not seriously. Not in any way that counts. It was just part of the game. He won't be tied to anyone anymore, but certainly not to her.

"You know what?"

"What?" Brice squints over at Toomes, "You gonna step in, baby your little boy because he sure as heck can't take care of himself. Or anyone else for that matter." Brice nods down to Michael's leg that is only made better by the machine connected to his spine, "Clearly."

And Michael just snaps.

He bares his pearly white teeth and he steps towards him, his hands still shaking from anger. He only stops when his father lifts a hand, holding him in place before Toomes scrunches his lips and nods at Brice.

"You're right." He points to a large weapon on Mason's tinkering table, "That work?"

"I don't know."

"We can't afford that." Toomes picks up the gun, directing it towards the man.

But before he can shoot, Michael, knowing full well what this particular gun does, snatches the weapon from Toomes' hands. He then turns and, with a cold and blank expression, aims and fires the thing directly at Brice. The man lets out a terrified yell before his body turns completely to blackened soot and then crumbles to nothingness on the floor, still slightly crisp against the concrete.

It's...

It-It's satisfaction that Michael feels.

He allows the gun to swing to his side, feeling that pain in his limp leg recede and that numbness within him to return. Ah yes, it's all going back to normal, to the way it should be.

Schultz quickly steps back, staring down at the soot that was once a man, "Dang."

"Mike..." Toomes looks over at his son with concerned and narrowed eyes, not liking the stone-hard expression on his face.

Michael cuts his gaze over to his father and something strange happens. That coldness and raging numbness inside of him twists and then he's something different.

Michael's expression crumbles weakly, his voice becoming fearful and trembling, "I-I didn't know what it did! I thought this was the anti-gravity gun."

"What?" Mason pulls a face and points at another weapon, "No, that's that one."

Michael says nothing else.

Toomes watches his son carefully before his eyes drift down to the soot pile.

He purses his wrinkled lips and walks over to Schultz, handing over the modified gauntlet and saying, "Here. Now you're the Shocker." He nods his chin over his shoulder, "You and Mike go out there and find that weapon he lost."

Michael tosses the large gun onto Mason's work table, creating a loud bang and making the tinkerer jump in surprise. He gives his father his very best smile before all of the emotion is visibly drained from his face and he begins walking for the exit, the metal and wires on his spine whirring with every step.

"With pleasure."

Ta-Da! A new chapter (with hardly any Lisa but hey, a better look at Michael!)! What did you think, my dears? Peter is keeping secrets from his big sis and Michael is on the hunt for them now. What do you think his plan could be for her?? And whew, Tony got so close to seeing Lisa but, nah guys, we're not seeing that reunion until (dun dun DUN) Infinity War. Now, that being said, what are your thoughts???

Funny Thingamabob: