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Published:
2019-08-14
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1/1
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Crisis Averted

Summary:

Who does Peter turn to for support when something he thought was done happens suddenly on patrol?

Only the best possible person.

Trans!Peter AU, written from the prompt:
‘How about anything with Trans Peter?’

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Peter’s day had been going great. Fabulous, really.

It had been one good thing after another - and despite him not feeling exactly one-hundred percent - Peter felt that he really had a good thing going; all it took was the simple sharp transition between free-fall and swinging to completely ruin it.

When he had shot out his web and caught himself like he had done so many times before, he felt his abdomen drop.

Oh no.

Suddenly Peter realized just what had been going on with his body during these past couple of days.

He thought they were just cramps, or maybe he pulled a muscle.

Ned had suggested that he was going through ‘Spider-Puberty’, or that he was going to lay eggs, or even better - as Ned insisted - he was going to grow Spider-Limbs and really be a Spider Man.

But it wasn’t that.

And oh how Peter now wished it was that.  He’d do anything for it to be that.

Because what Peter felt when his abdomen dropped was something he had not felt in a very long time, and the shock of suddenly feeling it now nearly caused the young superhero to crash headlong into the glass side of a building.

“No no no,” Peter panicked, scrambling up the side of the aforementioned building, skirting around the corner and pulling himself over and onto the tall roof. “No no no - this is not - I thought this was done - I thought this was over with-!” he hissed to himself.

‘Peter,’ the cool metallic voice of his AI, Karen, came to his ear, ‘You appear to be in distress, I also detect blo-’

“Don’t-” Peter cut her off before she could finish. “Sorry. I- I know.  I’m… fine.  It’s fine.”

Why now?

Karen continued, ‘- Protocol states that I should contact Tony Stark in the event of an injury-’

Peter felt the blood drain from his face and pool unhelpfully in his abdomen.  “No.  Don’t.  Don’t do that.  Belay that protocol.  No. I am not hurt.  I am not injured.”

‘But-’

“No!” Peter snapped - immediately regretting snapping at his AI, but unable to get past the shock of the situation.

Peter paced on top of the building, rubbing his hands along the back of his mask. “Shit.  Shit.  What do I do?  I-”  He looked down at himself.  He couldn’t see anything, thank god, but he could definitely feel something.

“Why?” he demanded to no one in particular, feeling emotions and insecurities bubble up that he hadn’t felt in ages; that he hadn’t felt at least this acutely since before the spider-bite.

He took a breath, rubbing his hands down along the face of his mask.

“What do I do - What do I do-”

‘Peter you are in distress-’ Karen said calmly, kindly.

“I am not injured,” Peter snapped again, but more gently this time - it wasn’t Karen’s fault.  She was only trying to help. He should apologize.  “I- sorry.”

‘Your outbursts appear to be warranted, Peter - but I forgive you.’ God Peter didn’t deserve her, ‘However, you are in distress, and you need to seek assistance immediately.’

“I- I can’t Karen,” Peter said as he started to pace the roof. “May is at work - it’ll be hours and I’m not going to pull her out of work for this.  Also, she thinks it is over with anyway-”

‘What is over with?’ Karen asked.

Peter didn’t reply, instead continuing his ramble, “-and Mr. Stark doesn’t even know-” Peter swallowed.  Or did he know?  Peter’s personal identification was already changed by the time he met the man, and his DNA was so warped that it didn’t read like a normal person anyway but-

Did he know?

‘Know what, Peter?’ Karen asked in a kind voice.

Peter shook his head, licking his dry lips.

‘Peter, I am here to help you.  If you cannot inform me, your Aunt or Tony Stark of your distress, I suggest that you seek another outlet.  I can speak to you if you wish.’

Peter smiled slightly at that, but it was strained. “I- thanks Karen.  You’re seriously the best.  But,” He sighed, “I don’t think this is something you can physically help with, you know?’

She almost hummed in thought, ‘Is one of your friends available?’

“One of my friends-”

Oh.  Of course.  Peter could have smacked himself.  In fact, he did.  He smacked himself square in the forehead with his palm.

Ned.

Ned knew.  Ned was one of the few people that knew.  He might not have known Peter much ‘before’ but he was his best friend all the way through the beginning and if it weren’t for Ned-

“Good idea,” Peter said breathlessly. “Thank you Karen.  I don’t know why I didn’t even think of it- I- Thank you.”

He was already off as Karen was replied with a sweet, ‘No problem, Peter.’

Peter swung through the streets, albeit a little more carefully and with less organ-dropping acrobatics than he normally would do.  He took the quickest and fastest route he could take to his best friend’s house.

Peter was already feeling that bubble of embarrassment, of anger, of hating that he was self-pitying but also that self-disgust and how he didn’t want to just suddenly push it all on Ned.  Ned, who was probably studying, or playing games, or doing something that wasn’t involving the disaster that Peter felt.

Peter stuck to the wall just outside the window, looked about himself to make sure there was nobody noticing Spider-Man sticking to a window – then knocked.

It wasn’t that late at night, it was the summer, so the sun took time to set, and it was splashing ironic crimson hues into the streets and across Peter’s back and up the side of the building.

It took a few seconds, but the blinds were yanked up.

A  muffled surprised, “Peter?” came through the window, before Ned realized it was shut tight, and it was pushed open.  He repeated himself. “Peter?”

“Hey,” Peter replied weakly, giving an awkward wave.  He pointed. “Can- can I come in?”

Ned immediately backed up to give Peter space. “Of course you can, dude!  You’re always free to come in.”

Peter gratefully did so, crawling in through the window, flipping down - he regretted that when he felt the tight pull of his abdominal muscles at that movement - and winced.

Ned, looking concerned, shut the window, then shut the blinds, and ran over to his door and locked it before he rushed to Peter.

Peter pulled off his mask, feeling sweaty and all-too embarrassed, he already felt exposed and he hadn’t even told Ned what was going on yet.

Ned’s hand carefully reached for his shoulder. “Peter.  Are you okay? Dude - you’re really, really pale.”

“Y-yeah, I’m good.”  No he wasn’t.

“Were you hurt?”

“No.  No I’m not hurt - Ned um-”

“What is it?  Is it that weird stomach thing?”

Peter shrugged, “Yeah kinda. It has to do with the weird cramps and-”

“Oh my god,” Ned cut him off, “please don’t tell me it’s appendicitis.  I know you told me not to read up stuff on the internet, but I totally have.  I looked up your symptoms and-” Ned took a breath then pressed into Peter’s side suddenly. “Does it hurt when I do that?”

Peter jerked back.  “Ow yes.” He wrapped his arms around his middle to save him from further assault.

“Oh my god Peter it’s appendicitis!” his best friend exclaimed, eyes wide and fearful.

“Ned it’s not-”

“You should lay down,” Ned panicked.

“- No Ned,” Peter was being guided toward Ned’s bed and he let himself be sat. “Ned-”

“Oh my god we need to call somebody-  shit.  Who do we call?  Do we call your Aunt?  That Happy guy?  The Avengers?  Mr. Stark?  I mean, your biology-”

Peter winced, because yeah, technically it was his biology. “We don’t have to call Mr. Stark.  We also especially don’t have to call the Avengers.”

“Dude this is serious,” Ned gripped his arm, “- it can explode in there and you can go septic and they would have to hose you out or something and -”

Peter’s ears rang and he felt the embarrassment and self-pitying mount before he found himself blurt out, “It’s my period,” cutting through Ned’s panicked words.

There was a long silence, and Ned just stared at him, letting go of his arm.

Peter looked at his hands, and he twisted Spider-Man’s mask between them. “I’m,” he said, licking his dry lips. “I’m… on my period,” he repeated, feeling suddenly deflated, tired and ashamed.

“Oh,” Ned managed.

“Yeah,” Peter didn’t look up.

“Oh thank god,” Ned said, visibly sagging in relief. “It’s that?  You’re not dying?  It’s really that?  I didn’t think you had those anymore but- hold on- I have something-”

Peter looked up sharply in confusion as Ned left, and he could hear Ned babbling from the small bathroom he had connected to his bedroom. “I still have some of these when it was more normal for you- I mean, thank god.  You should’ve just lead with that because I thought you were dying and I was going to freak out and if you died I’d die, ‘cause you’re my best friend dude and like-”

Peter stared at him as Ned plucked the mask out of his hands and put a box there instead.

“- What?” Ned said.

“You… still, like, have these for me?” Peter asked, tremulously, the box of pads feeling heavy between his hands, but Peter himself somehow feeling… lighter?

“Dude of course!  I mean, sure, we thought the spider-bite had gotten rid of that, but like, you never know - can never be too prepared.  Or something.  I mean, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” Ned explained.

“Yeah…”

“I’ll have you know -” Ned continued chatting casually, as if Peter were over to play video games and not just crawled through his window with problems, “- that I am very disappointed there aren’t Spider-Man themed ones.  Believe me,” Ned said, “I asked.”

Peter blinked once.  Then twice.

The image of Ned going through the feminine hygiene isle looking for a box of Spider-Man themed pads danced through his brain.

It was swiftly followed by the image of Ned asking a poor employee of a store if there were any Spider-Man themed pads and it was too much. Peter burst out laughing.

Ned joined in a few seconds later when it was evident it was a burst of mirth rather than unhinged despair.

After a few moments of laughter, and a few longer giggle-filled ones, Peter finally stopped laughing.

Ned sat beside Peter, and Peter felt even lighter.  The heavy emotions that had been swirling in the pit of his stomach almost washed away.

“Thanks,” Peter said, holding the box. “I- I needed that.”

“Dude,” Ned pat his back, the pressure he put there comforting. “What else are best friends for?”

“You’re the best.”

Ned smiled in that dorky way that he always did, and it always made Peter smile in return.  “I know,” he said, simply.  “Oh!  You can go use my bathroom right now, if you want.  I have my clean laundry in there too.  Grab some pj’s.  Stay the night - I’ll tell Mom you came for a sleepover.”

That- that sounded amazing.  

Peter stood up, box in his hands.

“Oh and Peter?”

Peter turned to his friend still seated on the bed. “Yeah?

“We can like, talk about it, if you want.  Or not.  But like, I’m here and whatever,” Ned said, sounding only minutely awkward. “I also have LEGOs.  And video games.  Oh, and mom and I bought this awesome new limited flavour ice cream and I was feeling super bad that you weren’t going to have any but now you are here and you can have some so like – crisis averted.”

Peter grinned. “Crisis averted.”

Notes:

Written from a prompt by a not-so-anon Anon. (You know who you are) - This was posted to Tumblr a few weeks back before it was posted here.

Peter here is pretty much as we see him in the movies - he had been in transition before the bite happened, and something about the bite/hormones/etc. helped him WITH that.

I hope you all enjoyed! Representation is important.

AND OH GOODNESS I LOVE NED SO MUCH GUYS LIKE YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW.

SUCH A GOOBER.

Let me know if you liked it and you want to see more of this, maybe in a possible series?