✷ queens, nyc

[🕷️]

     "Are you sure May's okay with me coming over?" Ned gripped the straps of his backpack, keeping in step with Peter Parker as they neared the end of the block. "I told you we shouldn't have put the project off until the last minute. Maybe if we tell Happy, he can let us use—Peter?"

It was a quiet night—as quiet as it got in New York. The distant wail of sirens and rumble of traffic were a constant, especially in the shadow of the Queensboro Bridge. It loomed in the dark: a giant metal skeleton. Its underbelly was a web, Peter caught beneath it.

     He stopped at the edge of the curb, Sense tingling along his spine like an itch that wouldn't go away. "Hey, don't freak out. Someone's watching us."

    "...Oh, okay. Good. That's fine." Ned clung to a nearby lamppost for dear life, hiding behind it. "I'll just stay right here. Please tell me it's not the Wrecking Crew. Last time, I almost got flattened by a Corolla."

     The block was a canopy of stocky, dark shadows, grabbing at them like fingers. The air felt different, more sinister. The Wreaking Crew hung around Midtown. Here? There wasn't anything worth hitting besides a check cashing place two blocks down.

It had to be something else.

"Ned, just go right to May's."

Ned didn't hesitate, or put up a fight. He went, sticking to the shadows until he was out of sight, backpack thumping behind him.

     Then it was still.

[🔪]

     "Smart kid," Gavin mumbled, eyeing Peter through tactical binos. He couldn't help it when the corner of his lip turned upwards. The hunt was no fun without a chase.

A rooftop across the street had given Gavin a good vantage point to sit and wait. After seven years in The Raft, he was immune to it. Silent, watchful, carving out a space for himself in the night.

Little infrared Peter ducked into an alleyway, out of the range of Gavin's scope. When the boy emerged, he was hopping on one foot, struggling to get in his suit. Peter pulled the mask over his head. Two white, almond-shaped eyes scanned the nearby rooftops.

     The light emanating from them made Gavin curse. "You didn't tell me he had tech. What kind of high school kid's walking around in something like that?" Gavin used his scope to scan Peter's suit—more like fabric armor.

     "You didn't ask," Maria chided in his ear. "You wanted a taste of what you were getting into. How's that working out for you?"

     Gavin grumbled some more, adjusting his long range comm. Nothing he couldn't handle. Obviously. The Carver didn't shy from anything. "I think he's got a lock on me. Let me go dark, and—"

Recon was his religion. He always minded his targets, sometimes watching them for months before first contact. Maria had him on a much shorter timeline, and Gavin didn't like walk into anything with a wild card. May wasn't a threat, but...Spider-Man fit that description.

     "No fucking away. You deactivate that comm for any reason, and you're gonna wish you were back in your cell."

     Maria Hill never said anything she didn't mean. She'd bring down fire and...well, Fury, on him, and now wasn't the time for another lap around the world with SHIELD nipping at his heels. No. He'd play Good Little Soldier.

For now.

[🕷️]

     "Hi, FRIDAY," Peter said as his suit's HUD booted up. He tested his web shooter, sending a flash of white hurling towards the lamppost Ned used for cover. When it stuck, he pulled it taunt and swung his way to the top. He perched there, like a bird, keeping his head on a swivel.

     "Hello, Peter," came FRIDAY'S crisp, cool voice. "Have you finished your science project?"

     "No. Look, I think something's out there." There was a slight edge to his voice, one he knew FRIDAY wouldn't judge him for. "I'm guessing it's Kraven."

     "Scanning...life sign detected." A red line appeared on his HUD, outlining a figure on a rooftop across the street. "No match found."

"Did you check everything?" Peter muttered, concentrating on finding a good spot to web. He chose a water tower behind where his mysterious stalker was waiting, a web whistling away and hitting the tower with a thunk. In a flash, he landed, feet arched and fingers splayed.

"I have. There are no hits across any government databases."

Peter cocked his head down to find himself staring at a man dressed in black tactical gear. Fit, tall, muscular. A black balaclava covered the man's mouth and nose. The eyes of the Spidey suit narrowed a little. "Who are you, dude?"

[🔪]

"I fucking hate kids," Gavin muttered to himself, staring back at those glowing, bright eyes. The suit was probably scanning him—not that anything would come up, depending on what kind of access he had.

      Gavin only existed in two places: the SHIELD backup servers, which had been offline since the HYDRA reemergence—security reasons—and The Raft database. Only a handful of people knew the place was there, let alone how to access inmate files.

      "Hellooo..." Peter tried again, hanging upside down above Gavin's head. "Anyone home?"

     "You can't kill the kid," Maria reminded him.
    
     Gavin gritted his teeth, hand lowering to the holster he kept strapped to his thigh. The handle of his knife was a comfort, the grip fitting effortlessly in his palm—an old friend. "I really want to right now. Is he always this annoying?"

     "Hey!" Peter exclaimed. A web attached itself to Gavin's knife hand, pulling a little.

      Gavin's finger felt for a button on the hilt of the knife. It vibrated, dissolving the webbing. "I wasn't talking to you." He launched himself at Peter, knife scraping against the steps of the water tower instead of biting flesh, Peter leaping away. Not that Gavin was trying to wound him...force of habit.

     "Woah, cool knife," Peter found a safe spot on the platform at the base of the tower. "And, dude, are you hearing voices in your head? You should get that checked out."

     Gavin flipped the knife in his hand. "Just one, and trust me, I wish it'd shut up and let you show me what you're made of."

    Maria's voice crackled in his ear. "I'm sensing some hostility. Sorry if I'm spotty. I'm in Mexico with Fury, and there's this freaky storm rolling in."

     It was a standstill, Peter above him, poised to strike, and Gavin bringing his blade up. It caught the light, nearly six inches long and razor sharp.

     "Look, I don't know you or anything. What's your problem?" Peter demanded.

      Gavin didn't answer. He jumped up and grabbed the railing of the tower with one hand, pulling himself up and over. Peter took a few, tentative steps back, shooting a web that hit Gavin right in the face.

     The mercenary growled, trying to rip the webbing off with his free hand. Something forced him back: more webbing. He found himself pinned to the side of the water tower.

[🕷️]

     "You're not too smart, are you?" Peter cocked his head to the side, smile almost audible underneath the mask. His attacker struggled, arms webbed to his sides. The stuff was stronger than it looked.

Jerk, Peter thought. Just gruff and interpersonal with a nasty attitude. At least Kraven was a good conversationalist.

"Smarter than you, Bug. Next time, give me some breathing room."

Before Peter could even begin to think what he'd meant by that, a booted foot came up and caught him square in the chest. The wind left his lungs. It was a hard kick, sending him clean over the railing and flat on his back.

Peter groaned, the HUD in his suit flickering for a moment as he sat up, coughing. "Dude," he began as he hoisted himself back up via web, "I so don't wanna fight you. I've got—" The platform around the tower's base was deserted. The webbing on the wall had been cut, frayed ends hanging limp—his stalker was gone. "Oh, come on."

     At least summer vacation was right around the corner.

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