"This place looks pretty dicey," Scott eyed some of the figures spread throughout the restaurant, from the safety of the back corner, "the guys at the table behind us are eating their steaks raw."
Not so discreetly, Clint looked to the other table. And the meat was barely cooked, blood dripping off the plates. He gagged then proceeded to pick at his meal.
"Why the hell did Stark recommend this place?" Bucky grumbled, checking Rhodey's watch. "I thought he'd be joining us?" He looked to the billionaire's friend for clarification.
Rhodey shrugged, "I don't know what to tell you. He never gave a definite yes or no about coming. Besides, being fashionably late was always a habit of Tony's."
"Fashionably." Clint rolled his eyes, his appetite gone from seeing a rat vanish through a crack in the wall. "There could at least be entertainment. Doesn't this place advertise live performances or something?"
As if on cue, the lights dimmed, leaving the scarcely lit building even darker and creepier, save the single spotlight near the bar. The heroes could barely make out the figure who stepped up to the microphone. It was a male; on the shorter side and was remarkably thin, and despite the bad lighting, he seemed young. Peter, their youngest member, immediately came to mind.
"He look familiar to you, gu-" Clint shushed Scott as the music started, and the man began to sing.
And damn was he good. Bucky stilled, his eyebrows shooting up; this kid was better than anyone he'd ever heard, and he'd been listening to the radio constantly to catch up with the new age music and culture. None of them had heard the song before, but they were swept away in the stranger's voice. Their emotions swayed with the music on their own accord.
Rhodey couldn't help but smile. "Damn, he's good."
He sang a few more songs, each varying in speed, tone, and vocal range. Not once did he falter, his voice smooth like honey yet slightly rough at the same time. After the sixth song, the lights brightened, and the room erupted in applause.
"Holy fucking shit!"
Bucky was about to smack Clint for being rude when he got a good look at the small figure. "Son of a bitch."
It was Peter, New York's resident Spider-Man.
The kid was wearing a light grey sweater and jeans along with his ratty old sneakers, his curls falling loosely around his ears. Giving a curt nod to the applauding crowd, he turned and left, slipping out the back exit.
Rhodey left money for their bill, and the group quickly went to find and question their youngest team member. Once outside, they spotted the teen, walking briskly along the sidewalk. The Avengers kept their distance and kept to the shadows in hopes of not being picked up by Peter's spidey sense.
There was no wind blowing, but the January air stung, the temperature continued to drop, as the sun had set nearly three hours ago. Scott and Clint felt their paternal instincts rise at the prospect of such a young kid being out so late, alone, without a coat in one of the dingiest districts of New York. But they knew the kid could hold his own. He was more powerful than almost every other mutant or super they'd encountered, including Danvers and vision, not to mention what a genius he was.
"This seem odd to you guys?" Scott murmured, glancing around the dark and dingy neighborhood. Clint scuffed as he kicked a piece of trash out of his way. "I don't li-"
"Shut up and get back." Bucky simultaneously shoved all three men to the left and into a nearby alleyway, the darkness shrouding them, effectively hiding them from the approaching figure. The winter soldier peered around the grimy brick wall, his eyes locked on a large man, in ratty jeans and a stained hoodie that was standing a mere arm's length away from Peter - who looked surprisingly lax despite the circumstances. But then again, he fought criminals and supervillains daily.
"Give me all ya money, kid." His voice was scratchy and thick as if it hadn't been used for a while. The thick scent of alcohol permeated his clothes, which probably hadn't been washed in weeks. Peter cringed, his heightened senses picking up every foul odor. But still, he remained stoic, letting a quip fall from his lips without a thought.
"Sorry, man," he drawled, stepping back slightly, stuffing his hands down into his pockets, "I didn't get paid today. Maybe you should consider, you know... getting a job yourself?"
"I'll just take ya money then, little freak." Stepping forward, the mugger drew something from his pocket, which glinted in the moonlight as it was turned towards the teen.
"A knife." Bucky seethed. No one threatens their kid. "I'll tear him apart." Rhodey, Scott, and Clint had to use all their strength to hold Bucky back. He could've broken free easily, would've too, had the tables not turned so quickly. Peter held up what appeared to be a credit card, but upon closer inspection, it was, in reality, a reverse Uno card.
Clint couldn't help but snicker as Peter held the card up for his attacker to see before shouting, "give me all of your money, bitch!"
The mugger, clearly confused, murmured 'what the hell' before Peter's fist made contact with his jaw and promptly knocked the man unconscious, a massive bruise guaranteed to sprout on the man's face within the hour.
"Holy crap," Peter chuckled to himself as he pocketed the card and webbed the man up against a nearby trash can, "I can't believe that worked twice." He smiled once more before taking off, running with inhuman speed, and disappeared down the street.
The four Avengers stood in shock, watching slack-jawed as Peter vanished from sight. Clint couldn't help but snicker, nearly falling over as he continued to cackle and laugh.
"Come on, guys. Gotta catch up to em." Bucky smirked, taking off in the same direction.
Rhodey just sighed, "Tony's gonna love this."
YOU ARE READING
My spider baby, my responsibility
Fanfiction(Part 1 of my saving and raising a spider series.) Peter's had a rough life. Between having mad scientists for parents, getting bullied on a daily basis and keeping his identity as Spider-Man a secret it's no wonder he gets stressed. After his paren...
