I made sure to stay in the shadows when Matt dropped the boy off at the nearest police station. Once that was done, I helped him back to his home. No matter how tough he acted, I could see he was in a lot of pain.
I opened the window and let him in. He sighed as he plopped onto his couch and removed his mask, panting as he simply relaxed.
"You need a better costume," I told him.
"Maybe you can get me the number of whoever makes yours," he smiled. "I can hear the little machines you have in there. It wasn't this advanced the last time we met."
"No, it wasn't," I told him as I sat down next to him. "I can make you a suit if you want."
"Really?" he asked.
I nodded. "If you really want one." I know that according to the show some other guy is supposed to help him out with the costume, but if I can get him state-of-the-art protection right now? I'll do it.
"I don't have much money," he admitted. "I can't pay for all the fancy tech you have. How did you get it anyway?"
"I have a day job, you know."
"As what? Tony Stark?" he chuckled.
I smirked. "No, but close."
"Wait, really?"
"Yup. I'm an inventor. I make cool stuff and collect money off the patents."
"Anything I would know?"
"Mostly big corporations and stuff like that," I sighed. "I can make you a suit, Matt, if you want me to."
Matt sighed before nodding. "Yes, please. I would rather not end up dead in some alley somewhere if I can help it."
I smiled. "Fine. And you sure you don't want any tech in it?"
"Just make sure I don't die from a stab wound and that'll be enough," he smiled.
I nodded. "I'll bring it over as soon as I can." Maybe by the time he finishes taking down the Kingpin, the suit I give him will be useless. Maybe then he can get a new one made by the guy who was supposed to make it originally.
Maybe. Honestly, I don't mind. I could get used to making superhero costumes. I always did spend so much time as a kid making new costumes for my favourite heroes, and they were pretty cool, if I do say so myself.
"Matt," I asked him, "why did they take a kid? And who are they, for that matter?"
"They are the Russian mob," Matt told me. "And they took the kid to get to me."
"Any particular reason?" I asked him.
"I'm being a pain in their backside," Matt snorted.
"Hm. You know, I've been noticing lately that random acts of crime have gone down a lot since the incident. I find it odd that they suddenly made a move like this."
"Crime hasn't gone down, kid. Criminals just got smarter," Matt told me. "You're like a beacon. They know they can't take you, so every time you come around they hide like cockroaches from the light. It stands to reason you can't find anyone openly opposing you anymore — they're too scared."
I whistled. "Damn, am I really that scary?"
"Yes," Matt nodded. "I heard about what you did. I doubt anyone would want to fight someone with the tech of Iron Man, the fighting skills of Captain America, and whatever spider thing you've got going on."
"Oh, stop — you're making me blush, Matt," I chuckled before growing serious. "If what you're saying is true, then crime hasn't gone down. It's just more hidden. Okay... okay, I'll have to be more careful. Thanks, Matt."
He nodded. "Right. Oh, and if you're serious about this, know that there's a new player in town. I don't know his name, but he or she is the reason all the gangs are acting so smart lately. I was following a lead with the Russians when they decided to pull this stunt. Hopefully you'll have better luck than I did."
I looked at Matt. "His name is Wilson Fisk."
"I'm sorry?" Matt turned to me, his unfocused eyes staring at the wall over my shoulder.
"The man's name — it's Wilson Fisk. That's who you're searching for. I may not be in touch with the criminal underground, but I do keep my ear to the ground. I don't know much about him. Real estate man, big, heavy — but underneath all that bulk was some serious muscle."
"I see," Matt nodded. "I'll try to find out more about him."
"As the masked Daredevil or as Matt Murdock?" I asked, walking to his window.
"Both," he replied before humming. "You know, you never did tell me your name."
"You already know it. It's Spider-Man," I chuckled, leaping out of the window and swinging away.
I spent a few more hours outside patrolling, focusing around Hell's Kitchen. If Fisk was in charge of things here, then I needed to be more careful about how I operated. Maybe it was time to go undercover. If I did that, I'd need a cover name. How about Bruce Wayne?
Hehe. This was going to be good.
I went home that night later than usual. It was around two in the morning when I got in. I had just gotten into my pyjamas and slipped into bed when my SHIELD-issue phone suddenly went off.
I groaned. 'I should totally just let that go to voicemail... yeah... it's not like it's an Avengers-level threat, right? No way... damn!' I grabbed the phone. It was Fury.
"Hello, my second-favourite cyclops! How's it hanging?" I asked into the phone.
"Greenpoint Avenue Bridge. Now. And don't suit up," he hung up.
Bloody brilliant. What the hell does he want now? I swear he times these calls for the exact moment I get out of my costume.
I grumbled, but after a glass of water and an energy bar I was good to go. I put on a dark tracksuit and tucked away a black ski mask and my spare web-shooters, just in case. You never know what's going to happen when you go for a midnight rendezvous with the greatest spy in the world.
I put on my regular shooters and swung my way towards the bridge in question. I made sure to land nearly a block away and covered the rest on foot. I was about to walk onto the bridge when I noticed a man standing near a tree. He wore a grey tracksuit with a duffel bag over his shoulder. I focused and could make out Fury's face.
I followed him into a nearby park that overlooked the bridge. We sat down on a bench surrounded by tall bushes that smelled of urine and stale beer.
"Why the secrecy?" I asked him. "We could have just met in the safe house."
"SHIELD's been compromised," were the first words out of his mouth.
My eyes went wide. "I'm sorry?"
"The bases you stole from Wyndham's computer?" Fury reached into his duffel bag, took out a folder, and passed it to me.
I looked inside and found photographs of rooms that looked recently vacated. Furniture like chairs and tables had been left behind, but not one shred of paper was found.
"Damn," I hissed. "How? The only ones who knew I even made a list were the people on the team that helped take down Wyndham — and you."
"After you delivered the drive to me, I issued a search-and-capture order on all those sites," Fury explained, meeting my eyes. "I had to wait twelve hours to launch a simultaneous strike on all the locations. And in that small window of time, they got away."
"How the hell can you empty out bases this big in twelve hours?"
"They didn't empty most of them," he said, taking a photograph from the back of the folder. It was of a burned-down building. "In most cases they burnt everything to the ground."
"But still — twelve hours?" I murmured. "That's not possible unless—"
"—Unless the list got out and someone warned them beforehand," Fury finished with a nod.
"So we have a spy on our hands," I said.
"Not just one. Many. And they have deep roots inside SHIELD," Fury grumbled. "For them to gain this level of information... it's uncanny."
"Could it be someone higher up?"
"No," he looked at me.
"What?"
"You."
"What?!" I cried out. "You think I'm a spy?! For HYDRA?! The people who kidnapped and enslaved my father for over a decade?!"
Fury held my gaze for a long moment and I feared he would do something reckless. But then he sighed. "Sorry. I just had to be sure."
I blinked. "What?"
"I wanted to see if you were lying or not."
"And you can tell just by looking at someone?" I asked.
"I find myself to be a very good judge of character."
"Really?" I said flatly.
"Yes. I figured you would make a good Avenger, didn't I?" he smirked. I grumbled. Clever old man. He sighed. "I don't think you're a spy, and I don't think anyone on the Avengers roster is one either — in case you were wondering. But..."
"You can't say the same about your own agents," I finished for him. Suddenly a horrible thought struck me. "Nat... you don't think she's—"
"No," he said, and I felt immediate relief. "If there's one agent I can trust with my life, it's her."
I exhaled slowly. "Thank God. Because just between you and me, I don't think I could fight her."
"Why?"
"She would hand me my backside," I shuddered. "Maybe if I had my suit and web-shooters I'd have a chance, but in pure hand-to-hand? She would win, hands down."
"Hm." He seemed to have completely ignored that. He turned to me. "I want you to keep a closer eye on things on your end. If HYDRA is active, it's bigger than it ever was before — and more secretive. I couldn't find a shred of evidence linking it to them, and you just threatened to drag them into the light. Watch your back, Peter."
I nodded. "Yeah... my secret identity — you don't have it on file, do you?"
Fury's face hardened. "Yes." I gasped. "But only I have access to it."
"And the people above you?"
"The Council members? There's no way that—" He paused, thinking it over, then nodded. "I'll remove it as soon as I can. It may not do much, but at least on the off-chance they haven't been able to hack into our servers, you'll be safe."
I sighed. "Thank you, Fury."
He nodded. "Right." He stood up before suddenly remembering something. "Oh, and before I forget," he reached into his jacket pocket, took out a photograph, and passed it to me.
Curiously, I took it and looked it over. It was Jessica Drew. She was smiling and looked far healthier than before. She was wearing a SHIELD uniform — only without any weapons or the insignia on the shoulders. I turned the photograph over and saw, written in cursive: 'Thanks for everything. You're my hero,' with her name signed below.
"She started training last week," Fury told me with a smile. "She's good. Her powers make her an excellent agent, and... well, thanks to you, she has her sights set on making a name for herself."
I chuckled. "Didn't think I could have that kind of impact on people."
"Are you kidding?" Fury smiled. "Every day I hear an agent go on and on about how you're an inspiration. How you try to be a hero despite everything. You're a good kid, Peter, and a better hero. Get used to having people look up to you."
"Thanks," I looked up — and found myself alone in the park. I got to my feet and looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. I blinked. "Okay... that's a little impressive." I absolutely have to learn how to do that.