Lost in Translation

Little Games

The spiderling crawled deftly over the walls of the facility, scoping out all entrances and exits. It was his specialty. Making a mental map of the place, take in a few lower level guards or something, and give SHIELD as much of an advantage as he could.

The night air was cold and brisk, stinging Peter's lungs as he panted. He crept through the field around the facility, barely making a sound as he dodged security cameras and lights. Reaching a watch tower, the teen hurriedly crawled up the walls, his hands dancing over the bricks.

Peter settled on the roof of the little tower and peered through the cross hairs, his eyes straining in the dark. He hated these types of missions. 'Recon and capture', Fury called them.

The gun in Peter's hands was heavy and smelled of metal and gun powder. The first time Peter had ever held a gun, he'd sneezed violently, three times in a row. Fury had laughed, just barely, and pulled it from the boy's hands. He'd only been 9.

Peter blinked a few times, then pulled the trigger. The gun barely made a noise, the silencer taking away most of the bang. The guard dropped. Peter webbed his way closer, then hauled the man onto his back.

He was back in bed before 3am.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Get going," May urged, grabbing her purse and shoving a granola bar and a banana into the side pocket. "We're both going to be late."

Peter hopped over the couch, one hand gaining leverage from the back. He shot a couple webs into the kitchen, snatching his lunch bag from off the counter. "Ready in a second," he called, wrestling on some shoes.

"No webs in the house."

The teen hummed, ignoring May's words as he webbed his backpack closer.

"Peter."

He shot the woman a sly smile, then waved her towards the door. "You can go ahead, I'm gonna catch up. I still need to grab my books."

"Alright, fine. Прощай." May blew a kiss, then headed out the door, closing it with a sudden noise. (Translation: Bye.)

"Addio!" It was a game they played, always bouncing between languages throughout the day. Russian, Italian, Spanish, French, German... In total, Peter spoke over 7 languages. He'd told May it was because he liked learning, but that wasn't the whole truth. It felt like he was never telling the whole truth anymore. (Translation: Bye)

The teen scooped up his books, checking his watch. He didn't have to leave for another 15 minutes, but there was no reason for May to ever know that. He needed these 15 minutes. He needed to take care of things.

Pulling out his phone, Peter scrolled lazily, looking for the right number as he shoved his books into his bag. Tapping on the right contact, he set the phone to speaker and put it on the couch next to him.

"Agent Parker." A smooth voice came over the line.

"Directory Fury. I wanted to check in this morning on last night's issue." It was always a game with the director, you had to ease into these things.

"We're fine," Fury said shortly. "I had a couple of the others clean it up. I have another mission for you anyways, so I'm glad you called." Peter opened his mouth to speak, but Fury kept going. "It's in China. I'll give you the paperwork for school and May this evening, I'll have someone drop the report in the usual spot."

"I can't." Peter hated that silence that followed. That silence that meant 'you just dared to contradict Fury?'.

"Excuse me? Agent Parker, I don't remember you being in charge of-"

Peter was already in it, so he cut the man off. "I don't want to be a SHIELD agent anymore. I don't want to keep lying to May and my friends. Last time I went on a mission, May nearly went crazy when I was late, she got worried. I don't want to keep doing that. I don't want to keep... looking through cross hairs and..." Peter took a breath. "This is an official resignation, Fury."

Fury pursed his lips on the other side of the phone, debating if he should chew Peter out or just let him go. He'd always been the hardest agent to control. Maybe that spider DNA was all the way in his frontal cortex.

"Fine. Turn in your final reports, I'll remove you from the system. You should know that May knows more about your missions than you think."

Peter blanched, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Yes, sir."

The call disconnected. Peter shook what Fury had said out of his mind, instead, letting his smile widen and biting his lip to stop from squealing. God, he'd been working up to this for months, now. He'd been waiting and waiting and waiting. He was free.

Sprinting to his room, the boy rifled through his closet, pulling out his handmade suit. Finally.

Peter checked his watch again. He didn't really have the time to go out now, but if he brought the suit with him, he could go out after school, before May got home.

He wanted to be better than a SHIELD agent. He wanted to help people. He wanted to do something worth while with his powers!

The teen pulled the suit closer to himself, then shoved it in his backpack under his books and papers. He slung the bag over his shoulder, turned excitedly, and ran into the hall with so much speed, he slipped on the little rug May had put down and sprawled into the wall.

Peter flung his hand out, grasping for something to grab and steady himself. It just happened that his hand found the string to the attic, making the stairs clatter to the floor. There must have been a box balanced just above the stairs, though, because it followed the stairs and clattered to the floor.

The teen got up, using the ladder to brace himself. He went to pick up the box, full of old and dusty photos, but his eyes wandered over the top layer of stuff and he nearly dropped it back to the floor.

His birth certificate, partially redacted.

A photo of a young woman, a teenager, holding a baby.

May holding him in Fury's office, only a year old.

Peter stared at the box in his hands, gasping slightly. He'd never known anything about his parents, only that they'd been killed in a plane crash. Only that they'd been a happily married couple. Only that they were supposed to be scientists, aged 28 and 29, Mary and Richard Parker. This girl didn't look like the Mary in the picture in May's room. It didn't look like the Mary Peter had looked at his whole life, trying to find himself in her face. He didn't... He didn't know...

With shaky hands, Peter pulled his phone out of his pocket.

May. We need to talk.

He sent the text, then chewed his lip, thinking about everything that had just happened. He didn't have it in him to go to school, and he knew he couldn't stay in the apartment with all this shit right here to look through.

Peter put the box on the floor, then dumped his bag on the floor, grabbing the suit he'd made and putting it on. He may not be Agent Parker anymore, hell, he might not even be Peter Parker anymore, but he was about to become someone more. Someone new. Someone special. He walked to the window, taking one last work at the box in the hall and the life we was about to leave behind. Then, he put his hand on the window trim and swung out onto the fire escape.

He was about to become Spiderman.

**A/N: Welcome to the new book!! If you've read my other works, it's really good to see you back for a new story - if you haven't, go check out my other 2 book series, and the one-shot book!  I wanted to do something new and different, so this story is taking a SUPER different path! I'm so excited for this, so please comment and vote and all that jazz. Thanks for reading! Thanks for supporting! Thanks for putting up with my stupidly long chapters! I hope this was interesting and exciting and that you enjoyed it!**