~Iron Family~

Cheeeese

Peter hadn't done anything all morning but check the tracker. As soon as his eyes scanned the single word OFFLINE plastered across the screen in blinking red letters, he knew he was screwed.

He'd raced out the door after the kids. His spidey-sense told him something would happen on the bus, but he couldn't make sense of it. So much for being called spidey-sense.

He'd watched them board in apprehension. After the bus rounded a corner, he threw on his suit and chased after them in hot pursuit.

When as the bus screeched to a halt in the middle of a bridge, Peter knew the dude in the evil ice cream truck was somehow involved. There was a lot of clamoring inside the bus. He'd swung in for a closer look and realized that there were at least a dozen large appliance-robots surrounding it; banging against the windows, scratching at the door, picking it up and scooting it.

Peter had flipped out when that last one had happened. Several of the appliances were washing machines, and, on their purple-glowy robot legs, were apparently strong enough to move a school bus.

"Hold it right there!" he'd yelled, drop-kicking one of the washers. "You missed the sale on school buses! That was last weekend!"

You could see how well the rest of it played out.

As soon as Iron Man saved the bus, Peter had ran over to a group of the four particular children he wanted to see. They were huddled in a separate bubble, talking hurriedly among themselves. Billy and Kayla were crying, which made Peter feel extremely guilty.

"Hey!" he panted, placing his hands on Kayla's shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. "Are you guys okay?!"

Arnwaldo stared up at him in awe and Diego blinked rapidly.

"Um, yes, sir, but--"

"Just call me, uh, Spidey!" Peter nodded. "Yeah. I'm--I'm friends with Peter. I wanted to make sure you guys were okay."

"You're friends with Peter?" Arnwaldo squealed. "Can you sign my essential oil roller?"

Diego elbowed him and grunted something that sounded like 'Shut up, doofus!'

Peter cast a glance over his shoulder where Mr. Stark's helmet was staring coldly at him. He got a bad feeling, and he didn't need his spidey-sense to know what was coming.

"Uh--gotta run!" Peter called, webbing himself away.

"Do you get your powers from Nutella?" Arnwaldo shouted from below.

He'd yanked himself through the streets faster than he'd ever remembered going. He didn't know where he was headed, only that he needed to get away from Iron Man, and fast.

He didn't slow down until he reached 15th street. He landed on the roof of his old apartment building, memories smacking him upside the head so hard he gasped.

When May took him up here to see the lunar eclipse. When he played hide and seek with Ben and hid up here for hours--Ben hadn't found him until well after dinner, and then they leaned back and watched the stars come out. Well, the little stars you could actually see in this city. Hiding up here and not playing a game, when he'd gotten bullied by Flash for the first time. When May had paused her chores to come make sure he was okay.

Peter sat on the edge of the building, buried his head in his hands, and cried.

He'd promised himself he'd never come back here.

Stupid Spider-Man had broken that promise.

He took off his mask, which was not the best thing to cry in, and tangled his hands in his hair as his emotions crashed down. His quiet sobs weren't going to disturb anyone, because no one would notice him. He was just another face in the crowd. No one truly cared for him--as soon as someone took him in, they either died or turned him in to more mean people.

When was the cycle of pain going to end?

He pulled his hoodie and pants over his suit in case Mr. Stark came nosing by. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he got up and began the descent down the many, many flights of stairs.

He walked down the familiar steps, running his hand along the rusted handrail as if searching for a physical sign to prove he really had lived here his whole life, and it hadn't all been just a dream. A figment of his imagination.

When he arrived at his floor, his hand hovered over the push bar and he gulped. Clenching his fists, he turned and continued down the stairs.

He couldn't do this.

Not yet.

***

The next few days were rough.

Peter was woken up each morning at six by Bernard's loud music, which he played on the radio in the kitchen as he made his coffee. Peter roused the rest of the kids so they could get out the door on time, although this made him a common enemy until they had breakfast in their bellies. After the kids were off, Peter hopped in his suit and went out on patrol. Miranda never asked where he was, so long as he didn't ask her if he could leave in the first place. Turns out Diego was smart, after all.

One morning was especially tricky.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Peter asked Arnwaldo, the only one who hadn't gotten breakfast yet.

"Cheeeese," Arnwaldo fantasized, licking his lips.

"You can't eat cheese for breakfast," Diego protested as he accidentally filled his bowl to the brim with orange juice.

"Can too!"

Kayla, who was digging around in the cupboard, suddenly whipped around with a scary light in her eye. "Where's all the Nutella?" she demanded. Billy, who was shoveling spoonfuls of oatmeal into his mouth, shrugged, then pointed at Arnwaldo.

"What?" Arnwaldo cried. He looked a little green. "I'm seeing if it gives me powers like Spider-Man!"

"Spider-Man got his powers when he got bitten by a spider," Peter sighed. "Now can we please finish so you guys can go to school?"

"What do you even do all day?" Diego asked. "Hang out with your buddy Spider-Man?"

Peter wrinkled his nose. "Is that sarcasm?"

"No!" Diego's eyes widened. "No, I totally believe you. Plus, the dude told us himself he was friends with you. So..."

"So naturally, you trust him more than me," Peter nodded. "I see. That's fine. I've only been here for a week, anyway."

"It's not that," Billy said. "We trust you."

Diego signed something discreetly to Billy and Arnwaldo, pointing at Peter, who narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Kayla continued to rampage in the kitchen, looking for the missing Nutella.

After she couldn't find any Nutella, Kayla roared in outrage and slammed Arnwaldo into the wall, scaling him like a mountain and putting him into a choke-hold. Breakfast and homework papers flew everywhere. Peter tried to pry them apart while Billy scurried around and picked up the breakfast mess. Diego ran over to help, but he bonked his face on the light above the table (which sent it swinging) and backed into the wall, rubbing his head.

The noise got loud enough to rouse Miranda, who had fallen asleep on the couch as she chatted to her friends the previous night. She yelled and tossed the rest of her Coke on them to get everyone to stop yelling, which didn't work. She eventually gave up and went down into the basement to hide.

As a result, everyone was late for school. They missed the bus, so Peter, being the oldest, walked with them to school instead of skipping, which was what everyone else wanted to do.

They got some funny looks on the street, but Peter tried to ignore them. The school was a twenty-five minute walk, and when they finally arrived the kids had all missed their first class.

Already a little worn out, Peter slipped on his suit and went on his morning patrol. Maybe he could buy his school supplies with the money Mr. Stark had given him while he was out.

He hadn't been swinging for ten minutes when his spidey-sense spiked and he dodged to the left. When he looked behind him, his breakfast tried to come back up.

It was Captain America's shield.

"Hey, Spidey!" Mr. Stark's voice called in mock excitement. He flew down to be eye-level with Peter and raised his blaster. "You're coming with us."