Despite what you may think, this wasn't normal for him.

His usual shtick was swinging around on silly string, making his way through the 5 boroughs, helping wherever he could. Sometimes it was as sweet and simple as helping an old lady carry her groceries to her building. Sometimes it was as bad as human trafficking and drug running.

It was the life he led.

What he didn't do was go with the Avengers on top-secret missions.

Not usually, anyway.

Apparently, other heroes thought he was "exhausting" and "spazzy", and if they didn't like him, they coined the phrases "pesky" and "annoying." It was enough that they only sought him out on missions when they were truly desperate. Or, in this case, though he had a personal stake in it.

They weren't taking him out of state. Just upstate in the New York countryside. Not for the fresh air, unfortunately, but because there were some dark happenings going on and Tony cornered him in the Bronx and coerced him into coming along.

Sitting in the lavish Quinjet, butt plastered on a cushion that costs more than his entire bed set (frame included), Peter was already feeling out of his element. As tall buildings dwindled, he sank further and further into his chair, hating the idea of swinging tree-top to tree-top like a wannabe Tarzan.

This wasn't his first mission with the Avengers. Or his second, or even his third. But they were rare enough that Peter didn't get his own spider-themed seat. Hawkeye had a stylish bullseye on his, Captain America a star, Black Widow her classic insignia, and Peter? Plain, boring ol' chair.

He barely got a seat at all. It was either take their patented, uncomfortable team-up seat or stick himself to the wall and hang on for dear life. Which was an affront because he was their guest . Aunt May would be smacking their hands with a spoon if she saw this treatment.

"Are we there yet?" Peter called, peering from behind Hawkeye's seat, where the man himself was tinkering with an intricate-looking arrow.

He didn't spare Peter a glance. "Same answer as the last 5 times you asked. Pipe down. I can hear you squirming from here."

Peter huffed, slouching against his seat, arms crossed, "Not my fault you guys didn't give me a window seat. I could get airsick, and then what? That's a predicament no one wants to be in, least of all me."

"Don't you swing around the city? Thousands of feet in the air?"

"I said I could get airsick. Webswinging is way different than being stuck in this metal can," Peter knocked his knuckles against the hull of the ship in emphasis.

"The toilet is in the back to the left. Can't miss it."

"Gee, your concern is overwhelming," Peter drawled, and then craned to look over Clint's seat and whined, " Toooony , are we almost there."

"Ask me again in 10 minutes."

"...will we be there in 10 minutes?"

"No, but we'll be over the nearest body of water I can dump you in."

Peter slouched, crossing his arms again, "This is why no one ever wants to team up with you guys."

It took 20 more minutes before they finally arrived.

Peter sprung out of his metal tomb the moment the ramp lowered and found himself the highest perch to squat in. Which happened to be a tall tree.

He stretched his arms and legs as he strode up the trunk, groaning loudly, "It's about time."

He plopped on the highest branch strong enough to hold his weight and stared down at the rest of the Avengers as they filed out from the ground. Like a bunch of losers .

"So, why'd you bring me here, Tony? Normally, I wouldn't allow myself to be taken to a secondary location, but you promised pizza, and I know you have the pockets for it."

"After the mission, Charlotte," Tony said, waving a hand, "First things first, get down here so we can go over the plan."

Peter scowled, but descended on a web line until he's hovering over the group.

"Makes me feel safe," he tells Tony when the man quirks an eyebrow.

"Whatever, let's just...get down to it. There is a compound in these woods," Tony jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, referring to said trees and foliage, "that we need to crack open. There's been little to no signals in this area, but JARVIS and I finally managed to track the fuckers down, and we have a good scope of the area."

"Do we have a target?" Natasha asked, looking over the holographic map.

"Not specifically, but we have intel that there have been illegal animal experimentation going on. Of the mutation kind. From our satellite scans, and a few drones yours truly sent out, we have a good idea of how much heat they're packing. There are guards stationed every 100 feet, stretching out for almost a mile. We'll be going in on four sides, Two people in each direction, and we'll all meet up for tea in the middle."

Peter hummed, cocking his head as he followed the blinking lights that represented them as they flitted across the hologram. "Sounds cool and all, but why am I here? I'm all for saving the animals, but you guys can do an operation like this with your eyes closed."

"Because," Tony said, pulling up a different image, "What they've been experimenting with are some dangerous old formulas. Or, more accurately, dangerous old formulas from Oscorp that were previously used to experiment on spiders. I know you had a rivalry thing with Osborn, and you, well," he gestured to Peter's get-up, "fit the theme. I don't know if there's a connection, but it felt right to include you."

"How sweet," Peter said, but his eyes lingered on the picture of an old experimented Oscorp spider, uneasy. He never told Tony that the spider that gave him these handy-dandy powers was created by Oscorp.

If someone was out here trying to recreate it, well...Tony was right. He does want a hand in stopping it.

Busting the compound is easier than Peter expected, and he wasn't really expecting much of a hassle. The whole set-up looked like something out of an indie project for up-and-coming evil scientists. He didn't know how they got their gloved hands on one of Oscorps old formulas, or their research in genetic mutation, but they obviously weren't prepared to handle the heat that came with it.

He suspected they bought it off the black market, and if not there, maybe a Villains-R-Us starter kit. Either way, someone was leaking Oscorp secrets and that wouldn't fly. He was too busy punching unsuspecting goons in the face to really think about it, but it floated in the back of his mind like a smug little ghost.

He was paired up with Tony. Iron Man got them from above, while Spider-Man got them from below, which Peter tried not to be bitter about. He preferred having the high ground, and he didn't mean that as a Star Wars pun either. (Well, not entirely).

Still, he was used to swinging above his adversaries, leaping from wall to wall - but there were no walls in the forest and not all of the trees looked like viable options.

They do make it to the compound easily enough, regardless, but Peter's always been a complainer at heart.

The only thing these people had going for them were numbers, but with three other teams taking out people from the East, South, and West, those numbers were spread thin and it wasn't a problem.

The compound itself was as if someone had dropped a cement block in the middle of the forest and carved out a door on one side. There are no windows, though a decent amount of cameras were set up from all corners to survey the chaos. He and Tony tore their way through their security with ease and were the first to make it into the building. Tony radios their status over the comms as Peter cackles and webs down fleeing...agents? Goons? Bad guys? Henchmen? Whatever term they preferred. He was all-inclusive in his butt-kicking.

By the time he finished his side quest of tormenting the security, Tony had hacked into their systems and was gesturing for Peter to follow him down the hall; now equipped with holographic schematics of the building.

"Looks like they've got an underground bunker," he mused, "That's always a sign they're cooking up something good."

"If it's a hybrid monster, I'm nominating you as bait," Peter said, perched on Tony's metal back, peering down the long, ominous stretch of stairs. "By all means, tin-tin, you first."

"Ooh, someone scared?"

"Think of it as less scared and more tactical. I'm not the one with the metal suit," he rapped his knuckles against the back of Tony's plated head, "and I don't have money to patch up my costume if I get attacked. You , on the other hand..."

Peter had the impression that Tony was rolling his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't get your undies in a twist. I'll protect you."

"I'll try not to swoon."

They didn't come across any interference on the way down and Peter's spider-sense was at a low buzz. Halfway down, he stopped scuttling on the wall, cocking his head to the side.

"Did you hear that?"

Tony stopped too, a faint hum coming from his helmet as if he were zooming in, "Uh...no. Is there something I should be hearing? Are you hearing something?"

"I think so," Peter squinted, "But it's faint."

"What is it?"

"I can't tell."

"Well, that's helpful."

Peter shushed him and crept farther down the wall, squinting into the darkness. The only light in the stairwell came from Tony's suit of armor, and it's blue-white glow only went so far.

"It...sounds like someone calling for help," his head snapped back at Tony, suddenly grave, "A lot of someones. There's more than one."

That got Tony's attention. "Cap, Spider-Guy's picking up hostages. There are people trapped down here."

~Copy that, we're on our way,~ Steve buzzed back.

"You picking up anything else," Tony asked, inching closer, probably trying to scan as much as he could, "My sensors aren't picking up anything, they must have them shielded."

Peter tilted his head, listening, "No, I'm not picking up anything-" his words cut off as his entire body went rigid, and in the next second, he was bolting down the stairwell, "Shit, I think they're hurting them. Tony, come on!"

Tony didn't hesitate and was following in an instant. He wasn't as fast, given that he was wearing a metal suit inside a stairwell with no room to fly, so Peter pulled ahead easily.

The screaming got louder and louder, spurring him to go faster. Each pleading, terrified voice tugged on him like individual strands, pulling him forward, until he came face to face with a bolted door. He didn't pause nor slow his speed, and propelled himself forward, feet first. Metal crunched under his boots and the door crumpled like an aluminum can, slamming into the ground. Peter rolled, coming up to his knees, wrists out, pinpointing three scientist-type guys holding strange devices in their hands.

Nope, those had to go. He webbed them up before any of them had a chance to blink, and then watched them squirm on the wall as he caught his breath.

Head jerking from side to side, he searched for the captives but...the room was empty. Which didn't make sense because he could still hear them, only hushed now. A quiet murmur.

Touching the tips of his fingers to his temple, perplexed, Peter ventured further into the room, towards rows of tables cluttered with glass boxes, each one glowing a faint blue. He squinted, peering at the squirming masses inside, and when he realized what they were, horror crushed his shoulders.

The voices were coming back stronger now, a tsunami crashing into his brain and soaking him in a million words and thoughts. The noise was all in his head.

It's him!

He came!

He heard our call!

The Chosen One has come for us

He's come to save us

Chosen One

Great Spider

Savior

Chosen One

He's come to set us free

Tony's clanking footsteps echoed harshly outside, and he came bursting into the room seconds later, arms up and repulsors whining. "I'm here, I'm here, I'm-" he peered around the room. "Uh...where're our hostages, fly-boy?"

He craned his neck at Peter when he didn't answer, lips pursing at the younger man's crouched pose in front of a glass cage, head bowed and hands pressed together.

"You okay?"

Peter took a deep, controlled breath, "I swear I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" Tony stopped next to him, peering into the containers as well. His eyes went wide, "Are those s piders ?"

Spiders they were. Peter didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he sat there and stared. Their voices washed through his brain, tide after tide, each one breaking against his skull.

Through the corner of his eye, Tony lifted his faceplate for the sole purpose of pinching the bridge of his nose, and then said over the comms, "Wait. Hold that last order. There was a mistake. There are no hostages."

~ No hostages?~ Steve parroted. ~ Tony, I already notified SHIELD. Their sending medical carriers and law enforcement as we speak.~

~ What's down there?~ Hawkeye asked.

Tony looked at Peter, who took another breath and said "Spiders. Lots and lots of spiders."

It took a while to straighten the story out, but knowing it didn't make the situation any less hilarious (Hawkeye's words).

Turns out, this rag-tag group of wanna-be scientists was experimenting on spiders using pieces of information and half-baked formulas they got off the black market - all stolen from Oscorp. They were trying to recreate the spider that "supposedly" gave Spider-Man his powers (there were a lot of myths and rumors surrounding that, and Peter wanted to keep it that way) and they were testing their concoctions on a wide range of spiders.

The spiders didn't show any alterations or mutations aside from an elevated spike in brain activity. Which is why, apparently , Peter was picking up their thoughts at all, since their brain waves were running seamlessly against his own. Some kind of vibration that only he and the spiders could hear, according to Tony.

That was about as far as he and Tony could deduce after pillaging the building's servers and snooping through any information they could find in the lab. The rest, Peter stitched together from tidbits of information that came flooding into him from the spiders. Apparently, they knew of him. Only as pictures from magazines and newspapers, and the occasional video from a news channel that the scientist had up in an effort to study him . The spiders pieced together that he was a spider, like them (sort of), and with how reverently and often the scientist talked about him, they concluded that he was their "spider messiah," and were awaiting the day that he would come to rescue them from these painful experiments.

The screaming he'd been hearing was them. Once the scientist realized they were under attack, they started gassing the spiders to kill them off and hide evidence of what they were doing. So, no civilian hostages, but hundreds of tiny, eight-limbed ones.

"What are we going to do with them?" Steve asked when he got the whole story. For his part, at least he tried not to look annoyed. Being the one who called SHIELD for medical extractions in the first place, he was the one who had to explain why it was a false alarm. Peter was never going to forget Fury's faintly stunned(?) eyebrow raise when Steve told him that they needed pods for a bunch of raving little arachnids.

"Do with them?" Peter sputtered, "That sounds a little harsh. We definitely can't leave them, they're victims."

"They're spiders," Tony drawled.

"Who were experimented on. They have sentience , Tony. You're not the one listening to them cry and scream," he tapped the tip of his finger against his temple, "but I am, and they're innocent in this, alright."

And okay , maybe in the brief hour or two that Peter's met them, he's gotten a little attached.

Can you blame him though? Who's heart wouldn't break when you had hundreds of tiny voices in your head pleading for help.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, "I know you have a...connection with them, Spider-Man. But what are we going to do with them? Do you plan on keeping them with you?"

"Uh," Peter's shoulders slouched and he rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't think my building allows animals," he paused, and then hummed thoughtfully, "But you know, maybe if we're careful, they could ..."

"And what are you going to do when they're found out and someone calls the exterminator on them?" Tony interrupts, like the dream crusher he is.

Peter hugged one of the containers he was currently holding closer to his chest, protectively "That's not going to happen."

"Someone is bound to notice."

His shoulders slumped, "I know, I know..." they perked up again, "Hey Tony-"

"No."

"But you have so much room at the tower, no one would notice they're there."

"I'm not infesting my building with a bunch of freaky experimented spiders, Webby. Not happening. No."

"Come on, they're just a bunch of little scuttle bugs. You can make them their own habitat, somewhere no one will bother them."

"A giant habitat for a bunch of spiders is not going to go unnoticed."

"But we can't just set them free. They're experimented on . Who knows what that means, or what would happen if they reproduce. It could create a whole new species of spider, and we have no idea what that could do to the environment. They could become an invasive species."

"You're an invasive species!"

"Be that as it may-"

Tony groaned aloud, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm not taking in these mutant spiders and that's final."

"Pepper, hi, how much do you think it would take to install a habitat for a hundred plus spiders of all species without causing a mass panic at the Tower?"

~Tony .~

"Just hear me out."

Peter listened as Tony explained himself to Pepper, once again sitting at the back of the Quinjet, this time in the company of dozens of crates containing their rescued hostages. Tony wanted to retrieve them later, when the habitat was finished, but as soon as Peter went to leave with him, the spiders had erupted in activity, clamoring inside their cages trying to follow, which resulted in one of them breaking.

The pandemonium of a hundred of spiders skittering across the floor spooked even the most hardened of the SHIELD personnel, and it was unsettling for everyone (Peter included) when they scuttled over to him and crawled up his body to catch a ride.

Stiff-backed, wide-eyed, and sweating bullets, Peter whispered, "Tony, I don't think they want me to leave."

It took some coaxing to get them back into a container, but when Peter told them they would be coming with him (and they watched him carry container after container out) they settled down and allowed themselves to be moved. It was quick work because they got agitated when he was gone for more than 10 minutes, so within the hour, they had every cage strapped down to the floor of the Quinjet, fastened with Peter's own personal webbing for extra protection.

It was unnerving having so many eyes on him, and they were still whispering. It was giving him a headache.

It was hilarious to watch Hawkeye sweat though. His seat was the closest and Peter didn't think he'd ever seen the man so tense before. It was amusing.

"Don't worry, you guys will be safe now." Peter told them when they all shrieked and scuttled like an undulating black mass as the jet engines roared to life. It took a lot more soothing words and promises before they calmed down.

He'd have to drop by Avengers Tower almost every day to check on them from now on, while he and Tony figured out what exactly these scientists had done to them. Who knows, maybe they're perfectly fine and can be rehabilitated into the wild.

Only time will tell.

For now, Peter settled against the wall, listening to their little voices whisper in his head.

Eventually, it lulled him to sleep.

Sleep, Chosen One.

Sleep.

You saved us.

Now we will protect you. 

And done! LOL this was silly and I like to imagine all the shenanigans Peter would get into with legion of spiders at his beck and call. There would be no crime in New York, I'll tell you that. Thanks for reading!