Peter stood in the middle of the room.
The red and blue suit was draped over the back of the chair, half of it dragging on the floor, with a pair of sneakers tossed next to it, their soles split open.
The room was silent for about five seconds.
“Uncle Su,” Peter’s Adam’s apple bobbed, “it’s not what you think.” Luke looked up and asked, “What is it that I think?” “No matter what you’re thinking,” Peter said, stiffening his back, “it’s definitely not what you’re thinking!” Luke was silent for a second.
Circular logic, self-consistent, pretty good.
“I guess,” Luke said, slipping into his slippers, walking into the room, and sitting down on the edge of the bed.
He glanced at the suit and looked up, “You’re a loyal fan of Spider-Man, and you bought a cosplay suit to wear at home for fun, right?” Peter choked slightly.
“Of course not!” he blurted out, “Actually, I am—” Then he cut himself off.
Two seconds of silence.
“Ah, right, I’m just an enthusiast, cosplay, you know.” He spoke again, his confidence noticeably deflated.
Luke looked at him wordlessly for three seconds.
This kid was full of flaws, from head to toe.
Anyone could see what was going on; he might as well have been holding up a sign that said, “I am Spider-Man, interview me please.” But since this path wouldn’t work, Luke changed direction.
“What did I say this morning?” Peter didn’t make a sound.
“I said, don’t do underground boxing.” Luke raised his hand, holding up his index finger, “Today, this morning, I said it myself.” “I didn’t do—” “Peter.” Luke’s gaze fell on his wrist and fixed there.
Peter looked down.
A ring of bruises around his cuff.
The knuckle of his thumb was scraped, with a dried scab over it.
He stopped talking.
“It looks like I really have to control you!” Luke stood up and walked out.
“I’m going to tell Aunt Mei.” “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” Peter darted to the doorway in one step, bracing his arms against the door frame, blocking the path.
He stood in front of Luke, suppressing the air in his chest.
The confusion on his face faded, replaced by something else.
Seriousness.
“Uncle Su,” he said, enunciating every word, “at this point, I won’t hide it from you anymore.” Luke’s back felt cold instantly.
His brain quickly raced through one thought: Don’t you dare say it.
Peter looked up, staring straight into his face.
“Actually—” “I—” “Am Spider-Man.” The room went quiet instantly.
For a moment, Luke felt like the well-known BGM was drifting into his ears—passionate, heroic—and he imagined four English letters being projected into the air, freezing, and enlarging— He was silent for three seconds.
“Actually,” he said, calmly, “I am a senior Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.” Peter was stunned.
“I really am Spider-Man!” “I really am a S.H.I.E.L.D.
Agent!” Luke took out his phone, unlocked it, and casually put it back in his pocket, “Just got off work.” “That’s not the same!” Peter said anxiously, his voice rising a notch, “I’m serious, it’s not cosplay.
Those videos in Manhattan, that person is me!” Luke looked at him, his eyes filled with a complex emotion, somewhere between helplessness and exhaustion.
In other words, speechlessness.
Of course I know you are Spider-Man.
The problem is, why are you telling me now?
He just wanted to finish things with Fury, come back and have a good rest, watch you go to school, do your homework, and fool around with your classmates later.
He’d pretend not to know, you’d pretend it didn’t happen, and everyone would be at peace.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
Now you tell me you are Spider-Man.
What am I supposed to do now?
Luke took a deep breath, just about to speak— The phone in his pocket rang.
“Director—” he just started.
The voice on the other end of the phone was gnashing its teeth, every word sounding like it was chiseled out of a steel plate: “It’s me.” Oh, boy!
Luke gently pushed Peter aside and walked to the window.
“Agent Romanoff,” his tone became very steady, like a professional who had never made a mistake at work, “what wind blew you here?” “Luke,” Natasha’s voice carried clear restraint, “I’ve been hiding in Stark Industries for months.” “Mhm.” “Months.” “I heard.” “And then, with one sentence today,” there was a half-second pause on the phone, “you exposed my identity.” Luke coughed lightly.
“This,” Luke said, “we can handle this—” “I’ll give you five seconds to explain.” “No, no, no, no need to explain,” Luke quickly changed the subject, “listen to me, there won’t actually be any problems at Stark’s side today.
You just need to evacuate the people.
I’ve already—” “What the hell are you talking about?” Natasha’s voice suddenly rose half an octave, uncharacteristically losing a bit of professionalism, “Iron Monger and Iron Man are fighting their way toward Queens!” Luke was stunned.
“Towards where?” Boom.
The sound outside the window exploded before the word “where” had even landed.
Not just one sound, but a continuous series.
Luke subconsciously turned his head and looked out through the glass.
The sky was already starting to darken, but the silhouettes of the two flying in the air were clear enough.
Their trajectories were intertwined, with flashes of explosive fire in between, closer to here than any reasonable expectation.
Luke just stood by the window like that, phone pressed to his ear, watching the chaotic mess continue to advance toward Queens.
Peter also scrambled to the window, his eyes wide open.
“Is that,” Peter said, “is that Iron Man?” In the sky outside the window, two iron shells were dueling in an extremely ungraceful posture.
One red and gold, one gray and silver, they were locked in orbit around each other, lasers carving white marks between the buildings.
A plume of thick smoke rose in the distance, crooked and twisting, drifting with the wind.
Luke stared out the window, motionless.
Peter stood next to him, also staring out the window, his mouth open, his expression highly similar to Luke’s.
The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, watching those two iron shells fight more and more fiercely over Queens.
Silence.
“Uncle Su,” Peter whispered, “aren’t you a S.H.I.E.L.D.
Agent?
Aren’t you going to handle it?” Luke was silent for a moment.
“Aren’t you still Spider-Man?
You go handle it.”