I stood on the edge of a rocky precipice, looking down into a gaping canyon. Atop a wide stone pillar looming in the center of the ravine, I recognised three faces; Ned, Liz, and Michelle. They waved wildly in my direction, screaming at the top of the their lungs.
"Help us!" they cried in unison.
A flock of vultures suddenly swooped down from the sky, circling the pillar as their harsh screeches filled the air, echoing all around me. Their yellow eyes gleamed with hunger and rage. Instinctively, I raised my arm, attempting to shoot a web. Nothing. I realized my arm was bare, and my suit was nowhere to be seen.
"You can't save them."
I froze. My blood ran cold. That voice… it couldn't be.
Shaking my head to clear my senses, I tried another web, but was greeted with the same results. The mocking, gravelly voice repeated its dire taunt, and I struggled to shut out the noise. "You call yourself a hero?" the voice went on. "You're weak. And pathetic. No wonder Liz left you."
Gritting my teeth, I walked along the cliff's edge, hoping to find something to help my trapped friends. Still, the all-too familiar voice persisted. "You're just a boy. You'll never be a hero."
"Stop," I grunted, raising my hands to plug my ears. Nothing could stop the voice, however. It rose to a shout, like gunshots ricocheting inside my head.
"You'll never get rid of me, Peter."
"Just shut up!" I screamed, my knees buckling as I collapsed to the ground, holding my head between trembling hands.
The vultures abandoned their pursuit of my friends, suddenly turning to me instead. In a flurry of feathers and flashing talons, I was mauled by the swarm of ferocious birds. They tore at my clothes, my skin, my face, every inch of me. Panic overwhelmed me, and I cried out in terror. Then, through the pack of vultures, I spotted… him.
The Vulture.
Blood dripped from the edges of his mechanical wings, and his yellow eyes glowed threateningly. He approached me, and his vulture minions parted to make way for him. I tried to crawl backward, away from the cliffs, but my efforts were in vain. He drifted closer, and closer still.
"I'll always be with you, Peter."
"NO!" I shouted, leaping upright in bed. My head promptly banged against the top bunk of my bedset, and I resisted the urge to swear as my skull immediately throbbed from the blinding pain.
Within moments, I heard a door open down the hall, and footsteps racing towards my room. I swallowed, glancing at the alarm clock on my nightstand to see it flashing 3:19am in bright red letters. The door was pulled open, and Aunt May rushed towards me with a concerned look etched across her face.
"Peter, what's wrong?" she whispered, kneeling down beside my bed as I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, hanging my aching head.
"Nothing," I assured her. I managed a weak smile despite the pounding of my heart inside my chest, and beads of sweat that lined my brow. "Just a bad dream."
"Well, try to get some sleep," murmured May, running a playful hand through my hair as she stood to her feet. "You have a big day tomorrow."
"I'll try," I responded halfheartedly.
"Let me know if you need anything," May practically sang as she waltzed out the door, shutting it softly behind her.
With a hefty sigh, I flopped down onto my bed, letting the troublesome burdens of slumber overcome me once again.
"So, why did Mr. Stark ask you to come by today?" Ned asked. I shifted nervously in my seat beside of him, glancing out the window of the sleek, black limousine.
"Just a progress report," I mumbled. "He likes to keep tabs on me."
"Can't he just call you or something?" Ned remarked.
"That's what I wanna know," a disgruntled voice said from across the aisle. None other than Happy Hogan had been assigned as their chaperon, and he was now glaring daggers at both Ned and I. "I'm getting a little tired of babysitting. And to make it worse, there's two of you now."
"Mr. Stark wanted to meet my partner," I quickly replied as Ned dawned an indignant expression. "And I'm sure that Ned will be on his absolute best behavior," I added, nudging him with my elbow.
"Of course," said Ned with a wild grin. "But I do get to try on one of the Iron Man suits, right?"
Happy rolled his eyes, and I threw Ned a glare as the limo turned into the entrance for the Avengers Headquarters. The HQ building was quite the sight, and I still felt the familiar sense of awe come over me as we approached the shiny, lustrous entryway.
The limo dropped us off at the front doors, where Happy begrudgingly held the door open, shooing us inside with a wave of his hand. From there, Ned and I scrambled after him, racing to keep up with his hurried steps as he led us up an elevator to the second floor, down several hallways and corridors, all leading to a large office in the southern corner of the building. Ned was smiling like a fool the entire time, gawking at every person we passed, even the janitor. Happy had confiscated his phone, thankfully, so there was no risk of anything top secret making it onto the internet.
"Mr. Stark," Happy exclaimed, bursting into the office. "Your prodigies have arrived."
I couldn't help but grin as the leather office chair swirled around to reveal Tony Stark, attired in a suit that probably cost more than Aunt May's entire apartment. Friendly, dark brown eyes met mine, and I felt a burst of warmth shoot through my veins.
"Hi, Mr. Stark," I said excitedly, my nervousness temporarily forgotten.
"Peter," Tony replied, nodding in my direction, then turning to Ned. "And you must be the so-called whiz-kid who hacked into my suit?"
"Y-yes, sir," Ned stammered, and I glanced sideways to see his face suddenly painted in fear.
"Have a seat," Tony answered, gesturing to two empty chairs in front of his desk. Ned and I both took a chair. "So," Tony began, leaning back into his seat and inspecting me with a hard gaze. "How are things in Queens?"
"Great!" I replied, with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. "Uh, nothing huge or dangerous recently. Just a few robberies, some lower-tier drug dealers, you know."
"Hmm," Tony murmured, stroking his bearded chin thoughtfully. "No more Vultures or the like?" I blinked, my heart skipping a beat as I thought to the nightmare from early that morning. It hadn't been the first dream, and I doubted it would be the last.
"No," I answered, my smile not quite as bright this time. "It's been pretty quiet."
"Word must be getting out about the Spider-Man," Ned interjected.
"But you're both being careful not to let anyone know your real identity, right?" Tony asked in a warning tone.
"Yes, sir," we said simultaneously.
"Good," Tony replied with a satisfied smile.
The talk went on for a while after that, just idle, unimportant things. School, Aunt May, Tony getting to know Ned, and Happy sighing every so often as he stood in the far corner, texting practically nonstop. I answered all of the questions with as much bravado as I could muster, although the matter of Vulture and the haunting dreams continued to tug at the back of my mind.
After about an hour or so, Tony snapped a finger at Happy.
"Happy, take Ned down to the cafeteria and get him some lunch," he said. "And bring me back a cheeseburger. No, two cheeseburgers."
"Yes, boss," Happy responded, jerking his head as a signal for Ned to follow him as headed towards the door.
"And no mayo!" Tony added as the door clicked shut, leaving us alone. I began to twiddle my thumbs absent-mindedly.
"Am I in trouble?" I blurted out before he could speak, my voice croaking nervously. "Is that why you brought me up here instead of just calling in like normal?"
"What?" Tony answered, tilting his head to the side in confusion. "Of course not. If you were in trouble I would have come to your place, trust me." He stood from his seat, and walked to the door at the back of his office that led onto a small balcony. "Follow me," he called over his shoulder, and I hastily scurried after him.
The balcony had a lovely view of the New York countryside, with a sprawling lawn lying just beneath it. I admired the view for a moment, but quickly turned my attention back to Tony. The older man leaned against the railing, the smile faded from his face, replaced by an intense, curious look.
"How are you, Peter?" Tony asked. "Really?" I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Words eluded me. I thought back to the night before, waking in a cold sweat with a terrified scream, and shuddered.
"M-Mr. Stark," I stuttered, holding onto the rail with shaking fingers. "Do… do you ever have dreams? About people and… and things that you've fought? Only you can't do anything to stop them?" Tony glanced to the side, surveying me carefully, and I thought I detected a hint of sorrow and fear hidden beneath the many layers of his mahogany eyes.
"You mean nightmares?" he said, and I stiffened at the word.
"Yeah," I answered, reaching behind me to scratch the back of my neck. Tony sighed, staring out across the lawn.
"I think everyone does, Peter," he said vaguely, and I caught a glimpse of a shadow crossing his face. "The things that people like us experience… the things we see… things like that are impossible to forget."
"I wish I could forget," I found myself saying. There was a pause.
"Yeah, me too," Tony murmured quietly. I gulped, a lump forming in my throat.
"I hate feeling so helpless," I said, looking down at the lush, green grass just below the balcony. "And weak."
"You're not weak," Tony responded assuringly, hesitating for a moment before tentatively laying a hand on my shoulder. "You're the Spider-Man." I tried to smile at his stale crack of a joke, but couldn't find the strength. Instead, tears welled inside my eyes.
"I just…I keep thinking, one day it's gonna happen." I sniffled loudly as the words unwittingly poured out. "One day I'm not gonna be quick enough, or strong enough, and someone I care about is gonna get hurt."
"You can't think like that," said Tony, squeezing my shoulder comfortingly as tears began to fall down my cheeks.
"I can't stop thinking like that," I shot back, wiping away the tears in shame, although fresh droplets soon replaced them. "If I make mistakes, people could die. And it's just… it's a lot to carry every time you go out there."
"But you have the strength to carry it," Tony replied, and I slowly turned to face him as his voice dropped, almost raw with a rare burst of emotion. "Guys like you and me, we all carry those kinds of burdens, every single day. And yeah, it sucks. Big-time. But you carry those burdens, Peter, because you care about people. More than I ever did when I was your age. And believe me, I've learned the hard way that caring isn't a weakness. It's a strength, and it's what makes you who you are. It's what makes you Spider-Man."
"But what if a time comes when Spider-Man isn't good enough?" I asked tearfully. Tony gripped my shoulder, gazing deep into my eyes.
"You're not alone, Peter," he said. The briefest trace of a smile crossed my lips, and I felt a small shot of relief flow through my veins at his words.
I began to step closer, holding my arms out.
"Absolutely not," Tony said, interrupting my attempt at an embrace, and stepping aside. "Come on, Happy should be back with my cheeseburgers any second."
And like that, the Stark Wall had been erected once more. I felt a flash of disappointment, certain that I had gotten through to his softer side for just the briefest of moments. I chose not to be bothered, however, and followed Tony back into office.
"So," said Tony, rubbing his hands together eagerly as we re-entered the building. "Karen's been telling me you have the hots for this girl at school named…" he ran a hand through his dark hair, as if thinking to himself. "Marcia? Mary?" I stared blankly. "Michelle!" He exclaimed victoriously, punctuating the air with a sharp jab of his index finger. My mouth went dry.
"Oh, M-Michelle?" I stammered, crossing my arms over my chest. "Yeah, she's… nice. A good friend. That's it, really."
"You moved on from that Liz chick already, huh?" Tony inquired, his lips quirked upward in amusement as he plopped into his chair.
"Since when has Karen been talking to you about me?" I asked, avoiding the question.
"Since you activated her without my permission," Tony shot back, giving me a pointed look. "You're not the only one who gives progress reports."
"O-oh," I responded, clearing my throat. Tony smirked.
Before either of us could pursue the topic further, Happy and Ned returned. Tony clapped his hands together eagerly.
"Cheeseburger, anyone?"