Chapter Text
2015, DECEMBER
You can admit, you aren't exactly the best vigilante around. Weapons were average, and anything else you had such as your costume materials, tech, and connections all came from your time with the X-Men. Even your mutant abilities were only at a Delta level, but your fighting skills helped you secure your place in the X-Men until you left. Your new suit, a black catsuit with purple accents and hooded cape sort of lead people the wrong way, especially with the full black mask covering your entire face except for the whitened out eyes. According to the others, it screams villain that even Magneto asked if you were sure.
"I just mean, the eyes are a bit much, even for me. I'm not even confident that you're one of Charles' students, you fight like a feral dog backed into a corner. Back to the outfit though, have you thought of an eye mask instead? Domino mask?"
"Aren't we supposed to be fighting?"
"No, no, that can wait. Lets talk about you right now, can you even see out of that thing?"
Shaking yourself out of the flashback, you continue to snoop around Midtown before stopping at a rooftop of a building to look. Stretching and popping the crick in your neck, you freeze and move to the ledge as you spot a vague shape on the side of the building in front of you. You squint to try and focus your eyes on—
Is that..thing..crawling? Oh. No, you don't fuck with that. You can handle petty crimes, even some harsher crimes that cause you to be a bit more aggressive, but big crawly things? No. You notice it makes its way to the roof before you realize it's him. That red and blue vigilante you've been following on the news. The entire reason you came all the way to Midtown.
Mainly because you were curious and nosy as fuck.
He crouches on the ledge before spotting you. Even without seeing his face, you can tell he's shaken up by your presence.
Mainly because he jumps in shock and falls back from the ledge.
He gets back up and dusts himself off before awkwardly waving at you. You instinctively wave back in amusement before you jump off the building, shooting your grappling hook from your escrima stick and propelled yourself to the rooftop. As you land next to him, he tenses in fear at the sight of your whitened eyes narrowing and the tilt of your head. Your voice breaks the silence, mild bafflement laced through.
"Did you just crawl on the side of that building?"
"Hypothetically..maybe. Uh, isn't your territory Greenwich, Lineup? It's a little far from here. Not that you don't know where you're going! I'm just wondering what brought you all the way here."
Your face immediately blanches at the voice that comes from the mask, your conscious screaming and ringing alarms over the thought of the kid behind the suit. 'A CHILD!! THAT IS A CHILD!! MUST DEFEND, MUST MAKE SURE THEY DON'T DIE!! CHILD DEATH IS A NO GO!!' You can practically see them flailing around, tears in their eyes as another one of you pats their back in sympathy. You return back to the conversation and shrug nonchalantly, replying, "I was just popping in to see all the fuss. Spiderman, right?"
The hero perked up at you recognizing him and began to stutter out, "Oh yeah, yeah! Yep, I'm Peter-Man..I mean Spider-Parker. Shit."
What you don't know is that, although he is obsessed with the Avengers, he's been following your career since you appeared with the X-Men (and then disappeared off the face of the earth for months). He admits, he does fear of you due to knowing you prefer aggressive, almost lethal tactics towards perps that come your way. But, the thing he admires is what others like to turn a blind eye to.
The fact that with some henchmen, you hesitate.
The ones who do it out of desparation, who have nothing else to support their families. You stop and hold back, even letting them go to direct them to near shelters. Then, 'out of nowhere', those families get donations, job offers, and stability. No one pays attention to it because they follow 'HOODED VIGILANTE SENDS INNOCENT MAN TO HOSPITAL!' even though the man was discovered to be part of a human-trafficking ring days later. But he notices that the 'criminals' you let go end up with their needs met that they stop doing crime entirely.
Your eyes widened as he slaps his hand on his forehead and mutters to himself about messing up his own vigilante name. "Pete, Parker, whatever your name is. Don't worry about it, it took me a while to say Lineup instead of my name, too." You comfort him, patting his shoulder and smiling as he nods. "You know what, in return for you telling me your real name. I'll take off my mask." He begins to stutter out a denial, stopping and giving you a look as he takes in your 'unmasked' face. You shake your head, fiddling with your hair with a grin.
"You wear a domino mask underneath your full mask?"
As you tell him about your habit of extra precautions as you move to sit on the ledge (while you're paranoid and hypervigilant sometimes, you can admit your double mask is mainly a fuck you to Magneto), he nods in understanding, sitting next to you and swinging his feet. You begin to fiddle with your utility belt, looking at the nervous hero beside you from the corner of your eye. It's not often you get to see other heros/vigilantes and if you do, it's only a nod of acknowledgement and a quick leave. Except that other time you spotted Hawkeye in a dumpster and he invited you to eat pizza with him. They know your territory and you know theirs. Except this time, you got a bit too curious at the new spider vigilante, but it seems to be paying off.
"You want a snack, kid? I got Goldfish crackers, gummy worms, or trail mix." He looks around as if someone's going to call him out on taking a snack break before mumbling a quick yet polite, "Gummy worms, please." You hand it to him as he thanks you politely, lifting his mask to display the bottom half of his face. Quickly ripping off a piece of the gummy and chewing, he listens closely as you pop a goldfish cracker in your mouth while speaking. "Now, I don't know if you want me to use your real name, but you should really get used to introducing yourself properly. Pavlov yourself or something, I don't know." He gets a thoughtful look on his face before he turns to face you, holding out a hand and says, "I'm Spider-Man. But since you know now, I'm Peter Parker." You nod at the name and shake his hand as you reply,
"I'm Lineup, Spider-dude. If you need anything, I'm here for you, kid. Whether it's sewing costumes, first aid, or something as simple as..homework?"
His body tenses and you prepare for him to either lie or run out on you. You aren't as worried though, not because of speed or anything, but because your specialty was playing hide-and-seek with the younger kids at the school. It even led to you being the sort of rescue dog with mutants, finding them the quickest when it came to your abilities.
He speaks in a fake gruffer voice, "I'm, uh, a graduate. I graduated years ago."
"Uh-huh. Sure, kid. Look I can't control what you do and I'm scared to given I just saw you crawl on the side of a building. But, I can help you as much as possible to ensure you're safe."
Peter looks reluctant before stuffing the rest of the gummy worms into his hoodie pockets and responding softly, "I just wanna help people. I got bit by some spider and n-now I can do all these things, it-it feel wrong for me to just..ignore the help I can do. If you could hear and sense everything happening around you, how could you ignore it? I just, I need to help." Even without seeing his face, you can hear the sincerity and practically see the desperation to do good in his body language. You nod in determination and tell him, "I can see that. Which is why I'm offering my help. This isn't some big sting operation to get you to stop, Peter. I just wanna make sure you're safe, kid. Same way you wanna help those people? Its how I feel about helping you be the best you can be, it's, uh, vigilante code. So, tell me what you know about first aid."
"Uh, I have Star Wars bandaids and alcohol wipes."
"...What the fuck."
After talking for a while longer, giving him your number, and promising to send him an entire list on necessary first aid materials, you part ways and mentally force yourself not to follow him to make sure he gets home safe. You grumble to yourself about being too nice, but you can't blame yourself. After he took off his entire mask and shined those bright brown puppy eyes at you, you knew you'd do anything to ensure his happiness. Sneaking into your apartment, you shut the window and move to your bedroom. Taking off your things and shoving them into the worn out box behind your clothes, you stop to look at the other suit in the container.
The yellow and navy suit collecting dust gives you phantom pains that sting your body as if you fell all over again. You unconsciously clench your fists, the feeling of falling hitting you, remembering the instinct to protect the person falling with you. You remember shutting your eyes to ignore the horror in the eyes of your teammates and accepting your fate as you maneuvered yourself below the other to ensure their safety. But it still wasn't enough. If you had moved just a fraction closer. It wasn't your fault, they said. It could've happened to anyone. Hell, everyone on the team has that one person they wished they could have saved.
"I know it's hard to accept. Survivors guilt is an overwhelming feeling, but do not let it control you. You're an asset to this team, Lineup. Please reconsider, and if not, I won't stop you from doing what you think is best, my dear." Charles soothed you, covering your trembling hands with his own as you sobbed out your apologies. His eyes simply twinkled with sympathy as if he could hear the constant guilt-filled thoughts that overwhelmed you. A look on his face ends up confirming that he does indeed hear them, and you feel shame settle in your throat.
"Whatever you decide, I hope you choose to get the help you need."
At that, you left the X-Men and traveled. You did the therapy schtick, got your meds, and got diagnosed with a lot more issues than what you thought you had. Tried the whole 'I swear I'm not a mutant, don't worry about it' facade back while living in Amsterdam and gave up, came back to New York, and declared yourself separate from the X-Men. They understood and gave you space unless it was an emergency.
The distress of past events makes your stomach churn enough that you shut the lid and slam the closet door closed, pushing away the feeling. Your thoughts went back to Peter. Did you just ignore the fact that a child is going around, fighting crime, without anyone knowing? Fuck, what about his guardians? Is anyone going to go looking for him if he gets hurt? Before you know it, you sent yourself into a spiral of guilt. You attempt to take deep breaths, but choke and burst into tears. 'Fuck, I really don't wanna get my dosage changed just because I get more anxiety over this.' You think, biting your lip harshly as you wrap your arms around yourself. You know what your past therapist would say, but at that moment your thoughts are a blur. A sudden buzz from your phone interrupts you as you sniffle, wiping your eyes and pick it up. As you squint to see the bright text, panic slowly eases out of you and you giggle at the message.
h ey it pette ! just lettring u kno i hom e
sorry i was taking off my suit and stuff :) gn !!!
Sending him a quick 'thanks for letting me know. gn pete', you wipe your eyes and snuggle into your blankets. Looking at the spinning ceiling fan, you sigh out, "I'm a mess." Of course nothing responds to your self-pity except the constant noise outside and muffled music of your neighbor below you. The exhaustion of your worries hits you as you drift off. It'll be fine, you're just giving him tips, it's not like you're gonna be his mentor. Right?
It's been 3 weeks and you can't tell if it's an unhealthy dependence or your parental insticts are rearing its head at you. Peter isn't exactly complaining either considering his excitement at your nightly patrols together. Speaking of the devil, you check your messages to see a thread of him discussing his day in class. Once you got used to one another, he let go and latched onto you as tight as he could. Identity problems, tech issues in his web shooters, rips in his costume, you took it all in stride. You even took off both masks and told him your name when you gifted him a sewing machine (you got tired after the smallest rips that he would awkwardly shove in your face with an apology), and after that he became even more attached at you trusting him that deeply. You might be exaggerating, though. You do separate patrols in different territories half the time, and sometimes you don't talk for days so you assume it's alright. Up until that one time he got kidnapped for interfering with some drug deal and you went to rescue him. He had to hold you back repeatedly and even took away your staff when you were too aggressive.
"No! Bad, Lineup! No critical injuries! No!"
Grumbling to yourself, you flip and kick the side of the mans head as he collapses, knocked out instantly. Peter huffs and tosses the staff back at you as he replies, "When we're together, I'm asking that you're a little nicer to the real bad guys, please. You usually don't beat up the goons, Lye."
"Lye?"
"Yeah, it's a nickname. For Lineup."
You shake your head and unscrew your staff into escrima sticks, sheathing it on your lower back before you lift Peter up bridal style as he squeaks in protest. " You're limping and not putting weight on your ankle. I'm getting you home, kid." You scold him and ignore his whines of 'I've had a sprained ankle before!' and 'Your cape is scratchy, how can you deal with this?'. The moment you hide and make it to a rooftop nearby, you hum as Peter points out, "Police arrived at the warehouse." You adjust his weight in your arms and continue to move on, leaving the abandoned building being surrounded by law enforcement behind you.
But you can tell how much the weight of hiding his identity was taking a toll on him after the third or fourth time he catches himself talking about things that happened on his patrol without you while you guys walk around Midtown. Then a look in his eye appears when he remembers that you know who he really is and continues to ramble with a little more excitement. He even becomes so attached to you being his new found family that he introduces you to his aunt. That was definitely not weird at all. Definitely not.
Peter chattering around in the kitchen didn't distract you from his aunt's narrowed gaze, her scanning everything about you as if to assess your danger to them. You internally curse at Peter for inviting you over for lunch with his family. 'It'll be great! Aunt May will love you!' he said as if it wasn't weird that you and him hang out without any blood relation. Which led you to doing a few thing that you aren't sure are exactly legal to have a better way to explain your friendhip. Was it nepotism if you aren't related? You don't know.
"So how'd you meet Peter? You do realize he's only 15, right?" She asks in suspicion, ignoring Peter's choked exclaim as you tense up and hold up your hands in surrender.
You calmly begin to explain the program that you're in that led to your friendship with the teen and watch as she slowly relaxes when you bring out official paperwork. "I help him with basic things like tutoring, any certifications, work skills, anything that he might struggle to get. Peter's eyes stayed wide as you managed to secure a mild tense friendship with May. "This is recreational and shouldn't interfere with his regular academics. If you need anything, you can reach me here. But my relationship with Peter is platonic. He's a good kid and I just wanna see him succeed." You tell her as you hand her a card with your information on it. While she writes it down and puts the card on the fridge, you sigh in relief at the fact that your work does provide this program. You weren't planning on participating, but he urged you because 'I know I ignore it, but May is really protective and our friendship looks weird.' It wasn't a hard feat to get Peter squeezed in last minute in the program when you agree to be his mentor. At that point, you became even closer because of the weekly scheduled meetings you have to attend with him. She thanks you and lets you say bye to Peter while 'subtly' watching from the kitchen.
"I'll see you around, kid. Stay safe." You say gently, ruffling his hair as he hugs you, arms wrapping around your waist. You tense for a moment but hug him back for a moment before letting go with a fond smile. "Yeah, talk to you later! Be careful!" He says cheerily and closes the door when you walk down the hallway to the elevator.
After that, you meet every few weeks with May, even when it's not discussing Peter much to his dismay. He's caught you nodding along to May's rambles of failed dates or gossip while he drags Ned into his room to build Legos. In regards to his friend, he only seems to greet you as 'Peter's old friend' and acts as polite as he can. You pretend being called old doesn't hurt. Peter wheezed once when Ned noticed your reaction and now purposefully calls you old. That fucker.
You respect him.
But eventually, something changed.
It started when the two of you ended up in Hell's Kitchen by pure accident, you swear, you definitely were not looking to spot the Devil or anything.
Yeah, he didn't believe you, either.
Finding yourself back to you were, with Daredevil holding you against a wall by grabbing the front of your hooded cape, you regret ever listening to Peter.
Oh yeah, listen to the minor when he wants to see a vigilante known for being aggressive about his territory, yeah. Now look at where you are, dumbass. Seeing stars behind your eyes because a man who calls himself the literal DEVIL bashed your head when he caught you. Honestly, the first mistake was coming to Hell's Kitchen and the second was everything after.