Phase 01

By: Riley

Summary- Peter has a routine; wake up, go to school, stop some bad guys, then go home to do it again. But he could use some help. That's where Brady Nash comes in. Brady is new to New York but not so new to the superhero game. He teams up with Peter to determine why their science teacher, Mr. Warren, is obsessing over Aunt May, their DNA, and how he's such a real life Jackal and Hyde. {Homecoming Verse}

Chapter One

Peter Parker didn't like to brag, but he was getting good at this Spider-Man thing. As it was, he looked over New York city from the roof of his apartment building upside down…easily balancing on one hand…a heavy school textbook held in the other. He hummed to himself, classic rock playing from the earbuds that dangled in his ears, phone hanging out the pocket of his jeans.

It started to slide, further and further. He paid no mind to it. It wasn't in any danger, really. So much so that as it finally slid out and fell towards the concrete of the roof, Peter waited until the last second before catching it with a web and flung it upwards. Too hard. His phone arched through the air, over his head.

"Woops." Peter flipped to his feet and shot out another web. This time it struck the front of his phone, nabbing it gently. The music quickly shifted to R Kelly's I Believe I Can Fly as it zipped to Peter's hand. "Very funny."

He shook off the webbing and shuffled back through his songs, looking for something else that'd hold his attention. His eyes drifted to the textbook in his other hand and sighed. School. The only thing he couldn't seem to get the hang of. It was bad enough he had to dump all his extracurriculars, things he actually enjoyed, but it was his responsibility.

If New York was in trouble, he'd be there to help. It was like Mr. Stark said, he had to be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Besides, how else was he going to get better if he didn't get some experience. He'd fought against Captain America and won, right?

Okay, well, would have won had he not needed to hold a massive truck over his head. Or…? Peter started to frown. Had Captain America let him think he was winning? Was he really not able to go toe to toe with the hero and come out with a win? Peter pursed his lips, mind shuttling over every possible outcome of their fight. He would've won, wouldn't he?

At that exact moment, Peter's phone stated to ring, showing Ned's contact picture; a bright smile and a thumb's up in front of a—newly—completed LEGO Deathstar. "Hey Ned," Peter said when he answered. "Quick question, do you think I'd be able to beat Captain America in a fight? I'd beat him, right?" He started to pace, pressing his phone to his ear.

"Beat him?" Ned repeated.

"Yeah."

"Captain America?"

"Yeah. I-I stole his shield."

"And he beat you with it. Captain America is a super-soldier, do you really think you'd be able to handle that? Even with your super cool spidey-sense thing. No, just, no—"

"—Okay, but what if I webbed his hands together and then—"

"—Super-soldier. Okay, maybe if you had the element of surprise I could probably say—no, I still think—you know, this isn't why I called you?"

Peter grinned. "Okay, what do you call me for?"

"Now, I don't remember. Because we're talking about Captain America, here. The Avengers. You're not part of them yet but you're going to be. So we need to think, realistically, who you have the possibilities of being able to beat in a fight. Say, one hundred duck sized Captain Americas or—okay, you know what? That's not the best way to think about it. What about Black Widow?"

Peter blanched. "I can't hit a girl!"

"You know at some point, at some point, you'll have to get over that. Equal opportunity."

"Huh."

"Women can be criminals, Peter. Not that Black Widow's a criminal, well, she kind of is, but you get my point."

"Yeah, Ned, I get your point," Peter agreed. "But do you really think I'll actually need to fight her? She's a freaking Assassin, man! Falcon, I could maybe handle, Hawkeye would be so dope to meet, and of course Thor and the Hulk—"

"You think you can beat the Hulk?"

"No, I want to meet The Hulk!"

"Okay, okay, I can see that. But you're right. If you can't handle walking and thinking about Liz at the same time, I can't even imagine what'll happen when you come face to face with Black Widow? Hey, did you—I mean—do you?"

Peter waited.

Ned's voice lowered to a longing whisper. "Does she smell good?"

Peter's lips pulled back into an amused smile. "Ned—"

"—I mean, I know leather doesn't really breathe, but she has to smell good, right?"

Peter started to respond. He was immediately distracted by the hairs on his arms standing straight up. Then he got that feeling. His spidey-sense. All the warning signals in his body going off at once. Something was happening. Something was coming. And it was headed right for him. Awesome, finally something to do. Studying could wait.

"Ned, I've got to go," Peter hissed. "Something's coming."

"A heist? An ATM robbery? A car jacking?" Ned rattled off. Peter could practically feel the excitement in his voice. "What is it?"

"I don't know, but I'll call you back."

"You better record it."

"Why?"

"I'm your 'Guy in the Chair', remember? I need to know what's going on so that I can help you in later battles."

"Bye, Ned."

Peter hung up his phone and returned it to his pocket. He glanced to the side of the rooftop and web-slung his backpack towards him. His spidey-sense had given him enough time to get into his suit, thankfully. He really had to find a way to get into his suit faster than stripping down to his underwear in the middle of the day. Nevertheless, he quickly got into his suit and flipped around just as the door to the roof access burst open allowing seven masked guys to race onto the rooftop.

They all shouted, brandishing their bags full of money. So preoccupied they didn't notice Peter standing nearby. Peter watched them. The eyes on his suit narrowed and widened, taking in the situation.

Finally, Peter lifted his hand and greeted a friendly, "Hey."

Startled, the seven men turned to him, all brandishing weapons. A few had guns, a few had baseball bats, another had a long knife. All were pointed menacingly towards Peter. "You know there's no way off this roof, right?" He shrugged, walking towards the criminals. "Unless you want a hand down?"

He sighed, hearing the safety mechanism click off the guns. "You know, you'd think by now you guys would learn to take the safety off before waving your weapons around." Peter took a step forward and a rain of bullets shot toward him.

Peter bent back and forth, shifting his body weight a miniscule amount to evade each one. The eyes on his suit narrowed menacingly. The smoke cleared. "Okay, I guess you want to learn the hard way."

With that, the criminals all raced toward him, dropping their bags of money as they did so. Peter web-slung one bag toward him and swung his arm in a wide arc. The bag of money shot around nailed one of the criminals directly in the face, shooting dollars into the air.

"Oh yeah!" Peter cried as the dollars drifted to the ground. "Making it rain!" He ducked out of the way of a bat seconds away from denting the side of his head. "Oh, okay. I get it." He webslung a knot onto the bat holder's ankle and pulled hard, flipping him to the ground. "You don't like it when it's your money that's being messed with."

He flipped backwards, sensing footsteps behind him. The criminal that charged him stumbled forward, crashing onto his stomach on the ground. His knife skittered across the roof. During his flip, Peter twisted himself in the air and landed on the shoulders of another in a low crouch. He leant over into the man's face.

"Peek-a-boo!"

The man cried out and started to swing wildly. Peter hung on to his shoulders, cheering and waving a hand overhead. "Ride em', cowboy! Yee-haw!" Finally, he flipped off and scissor-kicked him in the face.

Only to be rewarded with a hard blow upside his head. Everything started to hum around him, his vision swayed. Peter stumbled and turned, finding he'd been smacked with a metal bar. And that same metal bar was coming down on his head once more, before being crushed into his chest. Peter fell to his back and the criminal stood over him, pressing the bar to Peter's neck, closing off his airways.

Crap.

Peter brought up his hands, worked to push the bar off him, but found he didn't have a lot of strength. Air was important. His body wasn't letting him get any. He needed to breathe. A gagging sound escaped his throat. Every time he swallowed, he could feel his Adam's apple struggling to bob.

Peter grunted as the metal bar pressed tighter against his throat. His back bent painfully over the edge of the roof. His feet scrambled for footing on the smooth tiling of the roof. His head slowly inched further and further over the side.

Then, something amazing happened. Even more amazing than when Tony Stark or Happy answered one of his calls. Someone dressed in a cloak slid up through the roof of the apartment building.

Slid up.

Through. The. Roof.

And the second his feet landed solidly on the concrete, the person pulled back their arm—it took Peter a second to realize they were holding a slingshot—and released some sort of ammo to the rooftop. In a second, a blinding light filled the rooftop, making Peter close his eyes and turn his head away. A scream erupted from above him, the man that had been holding him down was blinded by the light, unable to protect himself with the speed of the newcomer's arrival.

Peter used the opportunity to shove the man and the bar off from his throat and flipped back to his feet and stared. Stared when he saw the newcomer was as extraordinary as Peter was. Case in point, every time one of the criminals shot at him, stabbed him, swung a bat or pipe at him, the newcomer would barely flinch. And the offending object would slide right through him. So much so that he even phased—it was the best way to explain it—through one of the criminals, he turned around and grabbed the back of his hood, hefting him to the ground.

As he whipped around again, he threw something from his hand that wrapped around another criminal's neck. It took another second for Peter to realize it was a yo-yo. Upon a closer look, aided from Karen—it wasn't an ordinary yo-yo. It was made from a very strong metal, and an even stronger tether spooled inside. And…hidden compartments that sheathed blades?

"Cool," Peter whispered.

"Initiating cooling procedure," Karen's voice stated.

"What? No!" Peter didn't speak fast enough. Before he could stop her, Karen sent shots of icy cold air through Peter's suit, making him jump and squeal in surprise. "Cool off! Cool off!" He slapped at his chest and back to shake off the pins and needles.

When Peter regained feeling in his extremities, he twisted around. Peter thrust out his hands, shooting out a long, stretching web at the criminals. It wrapped around and gathered them all together. At the same time the newcomer laced his slingshot with more ammo. He drew back his arm and released it in the blink of an eye. He let go, a piece of ammo shot out and stuck to the front of the web prison the criminal was stuck in.

A crackling filled the air and a jolt of electricity shot through the criminal at the front, making a gurgling sound erupt from his mouth.

He swayed back and forth, finally collapsing to the ground when the newcomer pressed the forks of the slingshot together—fusing together to form a long bow staff—and swept his legs from beneath him. With a scream, the group fell off the roof. The web stringing them together stretched and left them a bobbing, wiggling mass over the side of the apartment building.

"I thought what I could was cool but, that—man, that was—wow, it was so amazing!" Peter cried once they were alone.

"You kidding? Being able to meet the Spider-Man?" The boy replied with a grin. "That's what's amazing."

"It's just, Spider-Man," Peter corrected. "No 'the' in front of it."

"Sorry, dude."

"No problems." Peter waved his hands. "Thanks for that. It was all a big help. How'd you do that by the way? How…you know the…" he made a gesture with his hands, wiggling his fingers. "They just went right through you!"

The newcomer's smile was barely visible beneath his hood. "It's my power," he explained. "I can phase." To prove his point, he reached out and stuck his hand through Peter's stomach. Peter jumped back in surprise. Okay, now they had that out of the way, how'd he know to come help? Peter asked as much. "Well, it looked like you needed some help, Peter."

Peter's blood ran cold. "What?" His voice came out high-pitched and squeaky, the same way it always did when he was caught off-guard. "Peter? I, uh, I—" he cleared his throat and lowered his voice. Combined with the sudden voice modulator Karen put on, Peter's voice sounded demonic as he said, "I don't-I don't know a Peter. I'm—" He dropped his voice to an even lower, gravely tone. "I'm Spider-Man."

"You sure you're not Batman?" The newcomer joked.

"Really? You think I'm as good as Batman?" Peter practically squealed. Then, realizing his mistake, he cleared his throat and puffed out his chest, trying to look as intimidating as possible. "I mean—"

The newcomer tilted his head to the side. "Dude, we share a fire escape." He jerked with his thumb behind him to the apartment building that sat nestled close to Peter's. "If anyone had the sense to look up every once in a while, your secret identity wouldn't be such a secret." He reached up and pushed off his hood.

Peter stared. He recognized the teen boy in front of him. A classmate from school. A new classmate, he'd only just joined at the beginning of the week. Peter'd barely seen him, he knew experience how long it took get situated within the magnet school, especially for nerds like himself. But Peter knew his name.

Brady.

And that he'd just moved from Missouri. And that he'd moved into the apartment building next door a few weeks back. He remembered watching from the roof as he and his mother moved in, glad to finally have someone close to his age that lived in the building. Not that his neighbors weren't cool, Mrs. Decani really knew how to kick his ass at chess. But hanging out with people his own age was infinitely better. Especially when those people weren't calling him 'Penis Parker'.

"You might want to think about that, by the way." Brady lifted an eyebrow, his smile widening. "I thought I heard something, looked out my window and saw these guys on the roof." He gestured with toward the space of the roof with his his hand, then folded his arms. He jerked his head behind him. "I was just hanging around, waiting for my mom to get back."

"Oh, so you live next door," Peter remarked. His suit eyes widened at the same time his own did. In panic. "Not that I'd know that. Not that I live here or anything, you know, 'cause—cause I'm Spider-Man. Not these Peter you speak of. Why would I—no. I, uh, I've got my own lair."

"Stark Tower, right?"

"No, that's been bought." But, hopefully, a place was waiting for him at the Avengers compound. When he was added to the team, anyway. That reminded him, he needed to see if Happy or Mr. Stark returned any of his calls yet.

"Bummer." Brady frowned.

"I know. It's so cool. Mr. Stark—"

"Initiating cooling procedure!"

"No!"

Peter squealed, jumping back and forth along the roof, trying in vain to get away from the icy shots raining against his body. Finally, he couldn't stand it and ripped off his mask. Icicles hung from Peter's fringe, clumps of hair stuck together. It already started to melt against the heat of the New York day, droplets slid into his eyes. Peter sucked in deep breaths, tilting his face to warm in the sun. "Karen," he breathed. "We need to remove that cooling procedure."

"Would you like me to remove the heating procedure as well?"

"No. No…let's keep that." Peter sighed down at the mask in his hands, then turned to face Brady, knowing he was unable to keep the jig up any longer. So it was one more person who knew who he was, one less person to worry about. He was sure Mr. Stark wouldn't feel the same way. "I'm Peter," he introduced himself lamely. "Peter Parker." He lifted his hands and slapped them back to his sides. "I'm Spider-Man."

Brady turned a friendly grin back to Peter. "Brady Nash. But my friends call me Shadowhunter."

A/N: My first attempt at writing a Spider-Man fic. Actually, my first serious attempt at Marvel fanfic after doing my Captain America/Avengers one-shots On Your Right and Computer Fans. I had just finished watching Avengers: Infinity War and got this idea...that has been sitting on my computer for months now before I decided to try writing.

So, If anyone reads my Flash stories, they'd recognize Brady Nash and his mother Cadence. I've extended them to being comic book OCs rather than just DC ones. In that vein this is, sort of, a DC/Marvel crossover.

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it.

Cheers,

-Riley