Peter spun in his office chair and let his free hand fall to his side. The other held his cellphone up to his ear.

"What are you going to make your suit out of?" Ned asked.

"'Dunno. Probably something super cool."

"Are you going to use your dad's lab to make it?"

"No," Peter laughed. "He'd figure it out when things turned up missing. I was thinking I can just use an old sweatshirt and stuff. The big thing is making sure my face is covered."

Ned hummed on the other end of the line. He was surprisingly calm for someone whose best friend had just found out that a spider bite had given him the ability to spin webs from his wrists and climb walls. Oh, and the super strength. And the enhanced senses. And the super healing.

If there was a "Best Best-Friend of The Year" award, Peter would have nominated Ned years ago, even before he'd started helping Peter with this whole thing.

"What are you going to go by?"

"Spiderman," Peter said quietly. The last thing he wanted was for his dad or his family to hear that he was planning on becoming the city's vigilante superhero at just 14 years old.

"Have you thought about your signature colors?"

Peter stopped spinning and let his head loll for a moment as his eyes adjusted. His shoes, the ones from his uncle, caught his eyes. "I think red and blue."

"Really? Like those old 3D drawings?" Ned asked.

"Yeah," Peter replied with a shrug. "I think it looks cool."

Peter heard Ned's mom yell in the background, but the phone muffled most of the words. "Coming!" Ned yelled back, then in a softer tone, he said "I got to go, man, my mom says dinner is ready."

Peter and Ned said their goodbyes and made plans to talk later that night. It was the first time Peter was going to try out his powers, which meant that before he could go out, he had to find something of a suit and mask. The teen made his way out to the living room and grabbed his bus pass and some cash. "Hey, dad?"

Tony, who was at the table doing work, turned.

"Can I go out for a bit?"

Tony seemed to give it extra thought as he paused. It'd only been a few days since Peter had recovered from his mystery illness, and Tony was apprehensive to let him go out in the city.

"Would you let me send Uncle Happy with you?"

Peter shook his head. "No way! I'm just going down the street to get some clothes at the thrift shop."

"Clothes? At the Thrift shop?" Tony scrunched up his face. "Don't you want, like, nice things?"

Peter waved his hand. "I just want a few flannels and stuff like that, I like them second-hand better than new."

"Whatever," Tony said with a smile. "Go have fun. Be back in an hour, though, okay?"

Peter was already off, the elevator doors closing behind him.

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

You could see just about everything from the top of the Lady Liberty, but it was all the same. Vast swaths of buildings and city.

"Hey, Ned?"

Peter was wearing a pair of bluetooth headphones, which were connected to his phone. Ned was on the other line, acting as Peter's guide and homebase.

"Yeah?" Ned asked, his word bleeding into a yawn. It was late for a school night, but Peter and Ned had both agreed that saving people was more important than sleep.

"Could you look up any recent crime?"

"I'll do you one better and use the police scanner I got for my birthday," Ned said. Peter rolled his eyes. Leave it to Ned to have a police scanner, especially when they were literally trolling for crimes for Peter to go and stop.

"I've got reports of gun shots in downtown Queens. Not sure exactly where, but they're sending out a patrol to look for the source."

Peter launched himself off the statue with strong, sure legs and shot a few webs. It was a foreign feeling. Flying through the air was new to the teen, and controlling that movement with webs? Also a strange feeling. It took some getting used to.

Queens wasn't that far, and pretty soon, Peter was creeping over buildings and around corners, looking for anything suspicious.

"Are you seeing anything?"

"Not yet," Peter whispered. He ignored another one of Ned's yawns. "If I don't find them in the next 10 minutes, I'm gonna head home."

Ned hummed. "Smart. It's almost 2 in the morning, school is going to suck tomorrow."

Peter chuckled, his laughs getting cut off as he heard something. He craned his neck a little, tilting this way and that to get a better idea of where it was coming from. It was a little too far to pin-point, though, so Peter began to work his way through the allies and side streets to get closer. He honed in on it quickly and took off much faster, pulling himself along by a web.

There, at the end of a street, was a small circle of men. Two of them were standing in the middle of the circle, close to one another, and Peter could smell gun powder and steel. Guns. Sure enough, the teen spotted a gun at one of the man's hips.

"Hey! Didn't you know there's a noise curfew in effect Monday through Friday?" Peter asked as he tumbled into the fight.

"What are you talking about?" Ned asked, but Peter ignored him.

"Kid, get out of here." One of the men pushed Peter aside and threw a punch at another man.

Peter stumbled back for a moment before he stepped up, dodged a few of the man's hits, and punched him back.

"Are you in a fight?" Ned asked.

"Dude, shut up, I'm-"

"The brat's even wearing a costume!"

The men began to circle around Peter. A six-on-one fight wasn't exactly fair, but Peter did the best he could. He let his senses take over for the most part, which allowed him to keep out of the line of fire pretty well, but the gang landed a few good hits and Peter knew he'd be sore and bruised tomorrow morning.

A few of the men ran when they say that Peter was taking the punches as well as he was giving them, and the rest went down easy. Then a shot rang out. And another. Another.

"Teach you not to mess with me," the last man standing said, leaning over Peter. "I don't ever let these things go."

The man stalked off, leaving Peter on the cold, damp ground. The teen strained to look over at the other man, who was laying on his back, bullet hole through his head.

Peter lurched to the side and puked.

"Peter! Are you okay? Were those gun shots?"

Peter puked again, the image of blood pooling around the man's dead, lifeless eyes seared into his memory. The adrenaline began to fade and Peter became aware of his stomach aching. Burning. Like fire through his body.

"Oh, fuck."

"What the hell is going on, Peter?" Ned whisper-yelled into the phone. He couldn't risk waking up his family, but goddamn, Peter was going to be the death of him.

"I tried to bust up a fight, like a gang fight or something. And then I was winning. And then they shot me."

Ned nearly gasped, but quickly covered his mouth. "We need to go to a doctor."

"No way." Peter tried to stand up and make his way back home, but he caught sight of the other man. The now dead, not alive man. The one who 10 minutes ago was breathing, was walking, was living. The man who had a family at home.

Peter felt bile rising in his throat again.

"They killed him, Ned. I'm- I'm- I'm looking... Looking at him, but he's not- he's not alive." The teen's voice shook.

"Peter, there was nothing you could do. He was-"

"I could have saved him!"

"How?"

"I could- could..." Peter faltered. "I could have fought better. Faster. I could have saved him."

Ned sighed. "No, Peter. You couldn't have done anymore than you already did. This was your first fight."

Peter shook his head. "I should have been better."

Ned knew they were just going in circles at that point, so he changed the subject. "We need to get you treated."

"No hospitals. They'll call my dad."

"Then what do you propose we do? Find an unlicensed doctor in the middle of the night? Take care of you ourselves?"

Peter thought for a moment. "You go to sleep. I'll take care of it at the Tower."

Ned let out a huff of laughter. "You're insane."

"No," Peter said, drawing out his 'o'. "I just know where everything is in the med bay and have a feeling everything I need to know is on Youtube."

Ned went to say something, but Peter cut him off. "Get some sleep, Ned. I'll see you in a few hours anyways, so you can check it out then."

"I don't want to check it out! It's not some cool thing, Pete, it's a gun shot wound!"

Peter waved Ned off with a "pshhh".

"Peter, I'm serious. You better take care of it."

Peter nodded and pressed a hand over the hole in his stomach. "I will. Good night, Ned."

The two disconnected, and then Peter was off, swinging through the cold New York air and hoping to God his dad wasn't up in the lab.