Sokovia and Spiders

Chapter 1

Hail races away from the grey clouds above, meeting their mark they feel like freezing bullets when they hit Peter's suit. There's an actual bullet heading towards him right now, slicing through the air as a knife would butter. Appearing in the form of a prickle of apprehension his spidey sense warns him of it, giving him enough time to flip out of the way before splashing back onto the gravel. Within minutes of sneaking out of the apartment his suit had been drenched, the colour darkened to navy and blood red. The hail is a hallmark of New York winters right along with freezing breezes and angry people, summers might bring forth warmth, but winters bring a blistering hot derived from the anger of New York's citizens.

Spiderman had been on his way back home when he heard the commotion, the reason for the noise became quickly apparent as he leaned over the edge of the rooftop. A man was stood there, in one hand he was waved a gun threateningly in the air, in the other he was clutching the coat of a young woman. Despite his words being slurred and the stench of alcohol he was steady on his feet when he demanded her purse. He didn't seem like the type of guy to use an authentic weapon but Peter was unwilling to take that chance. She hadn't yet had a chance to react when spiderman leapt from the roof. He braced himself against the impact of the kick that made the assailant stumble backwards. Before he had the chance to regain his footing the woman took the opportunity to escape, heels clicking on the ground mark her departure. The moments distraction provided the criminal with ample time adjust his stance and pull the trigger.

Now there's a bullet lodged in the brick wall, cracks spiralling from where it imploded, having sailed through the air where Peter had been standing only seconds earlier. Irritated at the murder attempt Peter flicks his wrist, he can just about hear the click of the web shooter mechanism firing before the criminal is secured to the wall.

''Hey, hey, hey, this is a new suit.'' The guy just shouts obscenities at him from his place on the wall, eyes red around the edges, his scowl turning the lines on his face into deep crevices. Peter's too busy looking at the newly formed hole in the wall, to pay any notice. In his mind's eye he can see what would have happened if the bullet hadn't missed, metal slicing through spandex and skin before ripping through muscle. Turning his insides into a bloody smoothie. Damp gravel crunching under his weigh as blood loss causes him to crumple. He'd never been shot before, and he's not adding it to his bucket list any time soon.

Inserting a new canister into his suit, his finger quick to fire. He hoists himself upwards, as soon as the web is secured onto a nearby lamppost, before sending a second. The rain has let up slightly as he swings through the city, no longer feeling like violent needles sticking into his skin.

Peter can hear him before he can see him, super senses allowing him to detect the suit's inner engines from streets away. Why Ironman is hovering over the city at 11pm on a Tuesday is anyone's guess. Racking his mind for answers Peter theorises that he was after some criminal trading black market Stark tech. This area was halfway to home and a rough area of the city, infamous for its active drug gangs and weapons dealings. Yeah, that made sense.

Still, Spiderman slips into the alley, between two apartment blocks, hoping he'd either fly overhead or spontaneously change direction. He wasn't hiding exactly, just temporarily avoiding. Ironman ignores Peter's inner prayer and continues onward. Just a couple of blocks away now, Peter can hear another accompanying voice.

''Do you have eyes on?'' The question has a tinny quality about it, undetectable to most, making Peter think there must be a radio installed in his suit relaying the words.

Fortunately, he can't recognise the voice, meaning Captain America or Thor are unlikely to drop in on him at any moment. Letting curiosity get the better of him he strains to hear more, hoping in this scenario curiosity doesn't kill the cat- or the spider in this case.

''No, not yet. Police reports confirm he's been in this area recently.''

''Maybe he's already gone.''

Peter's stomach tumbles uncomfortably listening to the conversation unfold. They could be talking about someone else. They probably are. They have no reason to be hunting him. Though with Parker's luck there's a good chance they are.

Still, there's nothing to confirm this until, ''No, the web-slinger might be quick, but he doesn't have super speed.'' Unless his brand image has been stolen and there's another web-slinging hero flinging himself around New York then it's probably him. 

Can I sue if there is? Peter wonders.

To be fair, hunting gangs is more of a Daredevil rather than an avenger thing. Ironman is practically on top of him now, a few more metres and he could look down and see him hanging from the wall uselessly. Futilely Peter shuffles down, wondering if it was better to be discovered or reveal himself. ''Hold on. I installed heat detecting sensors last week.''

The flight part of fight or flight should kick in now, but at this moment, it evades Peter. Leaving him frozen as thin metal panels slide into place in Stark's suit. ''See anything?''

Ironman ignores the question in favour of hovering a little closer. So, he can glance directly into the mouth of the alleyway. Without the barriers of cloth and metal, Peter is sure they would be making awkward, uncomfortable eye contact right now.

When the silence continues for a beat too long Peter fills it, ''Err, Hi? I'm a big fan.''