Lost Stars - A Post No Way Home Story

Into the Unknown

His plan to figure out who he was? Easier said than done. For one, he sat in his lonely little apartment in Manhattan and looked out of the falling snow. He had fixed his dishwasher. One could say he was a handy man, but for some reason hanging up curtains was not something he could do properly.

He spun around in the chair he had found on the side of the street. The GED test would be a breeze, so why was he worried?

He looked at his text messages, hoping that Ned or MJ would say something. But to no avail - they were busy with school. He was not.

He went to work.

He was bored.

Was this what adulting would be?

Peter ran a hand through his hair. He had seen one of the Avengers recently. At least, whatever the Avengers were these days. No one wanted to talk about the current structure of it all. Was Scott Lang the leader? Peter had cashed in on a free audiobook subscription to listen to Scott Lang talk about being an Avenger. From being an ex-convict, to stealing the suit, stealing another thing, meeting Captain America - then the Falcon - and getting stuck in the quantum realm...Scott really knew how to market himself well, alright. Maybe Scott should be the leader of the Avengers.

But as Peter thought again and again.

They didn't really exist anymore.

It was cold outside. Peter longed for the heating system of his old spider suit, but he couldn't have everything.

Melvin Potter, that was the name of the guy Daredevil wanted him to visit for a better, not homemade suit.

"I don't know dude," Peter and Daredevil sat on the edge of a building. "I don't have that kind of money."

"He does it pro bono."

"Please don't tell me that you torture him into doing it for you?" Daredevil immediately noticed the panic in his voice and scoffed.

"More like he owes me a solid. But if you are okay with it, it beats me -"

His sentence was cut off. The hairs on Peter's arm stood. Something was up. Peter scanned the area and honed in on a group of people at the dock.

The dock's, Daredevil explained, was were most of the crimes happened. Peter knew that. People talked, after all, but seeing it in front of him was something else. A pang of nervousness shot through him. Should he be here? He was told not to be in places like this.

"Breathe," Daredevil reminded him. "Listen, you don't need to be here if you don't want to be."

"But I want to!" Peter exclaimed. "I... I want to help."

"You can always help the little guys."

"Is this not helping the little guys? by stopping the bad guys?"

Daredevil didn't say anything. Peter wondered if it was because he didn't have an answer.

Then, he opened his mouth. "Observe."

Peter did. He really tried, but it was hard. It was hard to sit back and watch. His instinct told him to strike off the hand before it even happened. Before they could even commit the crime.

"Don't," the red-horned vigilante said. "I know you want to, but don't."

He didn't realise that he was leaning of the edge, reading to push himself off towards the scene of the crime.

That was the impulse they were working on.

"But what do we do?"

"Observe," Daredevil repeated. "We observe."

It was a hard learnt process, but they stayed there. They were moving something - weapons, Peter presumed. From the way they were dressed, after describing it, they were part of the Irish mob.

Daredevil had smirked. "We're in Hell's Kitchen, Peter. Don't forget that."

Peter swung his way home after that. On the way he stopped a robber from stealing an old lady's bag and made sure that she got home safely - with the old ladies consent, of course. A good day of work, if he hadn't caught the robber breaking into a car. The robber had a tracksuit on that made Peter wonder if he belonged to the tracksuit guys.

Peter sighed. He though he'd pick his fights, but this one was along the way.

Would he do it?

Peter's feet did not make a sound as it touched the ground. The guy hadn't heard him at all. He was busy opening the car...with a hacking device?

Definitely organised crime , Peter noted. Why else would the robber have it?

"Excuse me," Peter called out. "I think what you're doing is illegal."

The guy jumped in the air and was ready to cock his gun, until he realised who it was.

"Oh it's the Spider Man!" he let out a sigh of relief. "I thought you would be the eagle guy."

"Hawkeye?" Frankly, Peter was insulted that he seemed a lot less harmless than Hawkeye. No offence to Clint, of course. He was a highly trained individual, but he didn't have the spider skills.

The guy scoffed. "Got my ass handed to him -" he unlocked the door. "Now if you excuse me, I need this get away car."

Peter forgot for a moment exactly what he was there to do. "wait!"

The robber had taken out his gun and proceeded to shoot at Peter. It caught him off guard as he watched the bullet come at him in slow motion. He had seen the gun. How had he not think that he'd pull it out?

Peter, dodging the bullet, shoot a web at one of his hands which made it stick to the car. That would show him. He felt a little smug. Maybe he should do something, like cover his mouth with webs.

"Ay!" the robber exclaimed. Peter proceeded to hitting the guy's hands with yet another web.

"Serves you right," Peter muttered. "Huh? I can't hear what you are saying." He hit another web at the guy. It must hurt a little bit from this distance. Peter didn't care. Satisfied, Peter walked up to the nearest phone cell and dialed 911. However, before he could answer the operator on the end of the phone, he heard thundering steps, a kid yelling, and the very prominent sound of a car getting away.

No.

Peter ran back to the scene of the crime only to see the skid marks on the floor and a bunch of empty webs on the ground.