Peter falls on Stevie's car while she's sleeping in it. Awkward chit-chat ensues. Stevie fixes the car and Peter with the power of healing
spit.
⚠ With these two? Nope.
Stevie Universe did not think of herself as homeless. She was a sixteen year old living out of her car, but that felt normal to her bohemian upbringing. Her dad had lived out of a van most of her life. That was just something people did, right?
Outside of Beach City, Stevie wasn’t terribly well known. She never had a real hero costume or a secret identity. The fact that she was former Gem royalty didn’t matter on Eaarth. (Diamonds? Who?) And honestly? That was nice. Now she had time to figure herself out.
No more fighting. No more space battles. Just Stevie and the open road. She started with the east coast first. Stevie had been to Empire State a few times, but it was nice having the freedom to explore it for herself.
Her only nemesis now was parking. Parking in Empire City was really expensive. She’d found an out of the way spot that didn’t look illegal where she was pretty sure as long as she remained covered up she could sleep in her car undisturbed. Sleeping in the Dondai wasn’t so bad. The seats were just the right amount of broken in, without being cracked. With a pillow and a large blanket? The backseat was basically like a tiny couch.
It was nice. Really nice.
She dreamt about going to see one of those major Broadway productions, only in her dream it was a non-existent production of Dogcopter, and Stevie was both a member of the audience and asked to fill in for the role of Dogcopter’s best friend Bulldog at the last minute. It never occurred to Stevie to be worried that she didn’t know any of the character’s lines, the music, or the choreography. For some reason in the dream it was completely acceptable to improv the entire second act. It seemed to be going well. The second musical number probably could have used a little more workshopping, but the audience seemed to enjoy it.
Also the audience was made of dogs. They couldn’t really clap but they barked politely at all the right moments.
It was a pretty good dream.
Peter thought he was getting the hang of it. Physically, webslinging seems to be a matter of reflexes and trusting instinct. There was definitely a part that was adept at it, but then…
The overthinking began. It was always a mind thing. Did people judge him against the original Spider-Man? Did they pick up on his hesitance? It wasn’t as if he’d gotten much of a crash course before Empire City’s OG Spidey had vanished. It wasn’t as if he’d gotten much of a crash before Ben vanished, leaving Peter with a set of powers he was still adjusting to and no guidance. No big brother.
He let a webline fly. It anchored on the corner of a roof, and he started the acrobatics by running a quick calculation of arc -- based on a radius of ‘x’ size and a velocity of ‘y’, then the momentum would clear him up to the next tier of building height. It should’ve been easy, but mid-swing, he fumbled. Ben wouldn’t do that.
And he dropped too low, let go too soon.
Ben wouldn’t do that.
And he tried to scramble up the side of the building.
And what ultimately happened was that he slid down on crumbly mortar until his hold was lost entirely. At least he wasn’t that high up. At least there was something below him to stall his fall before the pavement.
WHUMP.
It was a car.
“Ow.”
Stevie bolted up, the blanket flying into her lap. Did she hit someone? No. She hadn’t been driving. Which might have been a ridiculous thought, but Stevie’s powers did a lot of weird things in her sleep and she couldn’t completely discount a new power popping up.
Instead of being relieved about the lack of sleep driving, she stumbled out of the car to check on what happened, catching a flash of color but not putting together what happened.
Somehow she hit someone with her car? No.
Someone fell on her car? Stevie looked up and then down back at the indentation of her car to confirm. Yes. Someone fell on her car.
“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” Her brain processed the famous silhouette of the hero and the colors of his costume. “Spider-Man? Are you hurt? Did you break anything? I have healing spit!”
To her, those were not a strange combination of sentences to say.
Stevie looked up again to make sure there wasn’t a monster or a madman trying to attack Peter. …The street was quiet. She thought about asking what happened, but paused. What she didn’t mention was the damage done to the body of her car from his weight hitting it.
Peter had been collecting his limbs, which is a thing you really only need to do when you spill unmercifully like a ragdoll onto a solid surface. He cringed. Something in his side was going to be purple-black-and-maybe-blue later in the week. That was lame.
He slid off the top of the car, and gave a start at the voice. He’d been so wrapped up in his own head and the way it throbbed that he didn’t notice someone getting out the car that he definitely dented with his… impact.
“Oh, I’m -- ow. I’m good! I’m good. Pigeons, y’know?” He made an attempt to emulate Ben’s voice, but how well that went was anyone’s guess. No one had remarked on it yet. “Swerved so I didn’t hit…”
He paused and looked up, finally sighting the person who addressed him. “Healing spit?”
Stevie licked her palm and slapped it on top of the car in demonstration. The dent popped out of place audibly and even the paint job knitted itself back together like nothing had happened.
“Healing spit,” Stevie said with a shrug. “It works on other things, too. You’re sure nothing’s broken?”
It was a good thing the mask obscured his expression because Peter’s jaw was hanging slightly open. Heroes weren’t uncommon, but different power sets between them meant that he’d never encountered a healer. Or anyone who healed with their spit.
Peter stared at the car. It was undented, as if he’d never accidentally damaged it. Which was good…! Belatedly, a voice in Peter’s head reminded him that property damages were on him even if he could book it before anyone could bill him.
“Wow.” That was the first thing that came to mind. Followed by: “Sorry. I mean, glad you fixed it. I might’ve been able to pop it out with my grip, but…” Then: “Would you spit on me?”
“Oh, it’s okay!” Stevie assured him. “Is the pigeon alright?” That was the next order of concern, and given the way her eyes grew when she said it, she was equally concerned for the pigeon as she was for Peter’s physical state. Stevie absolutely would have spent the rest of her evening searching for an injured rat with wings if she thought there was a chance it wasn’t okay.
“I don’t really spit on people. I usually just kiss them where they were hurt or I lick my hand and then touch my hand to where they’re hurt in case kissing feels too awkward. You know, boundaries.”
Speaking of…
“I kinda need to touch your skin though. It doesn’t work through clothing. Is that okay?”
“The pigeon?” Peter asked, but then realized there was a sort of untruthful framework he’d established. The pigeon. Riiiight. “Flew away. Unscathed.”
Move it along, Parker. You’re a terrible liar.
Then again, the way this whole conversation was unfolding was putting him off his footing. Healing spit. ‘I usually just kiss them’? He felt like he hadn’t properly prepared himself for the hero life. He was getting used to it, but the manual didn’t exist, and his guide to this new world was… out of reach. Hopefully still alive. Peter shook himself a little, collecting his thoughts from wading into those deeper waters.
“So… so you would lick your hand, if I…” He made a gesture. It was loosely around his side where the pain was throbbing, although the motion itself made him draw in a sharp breath. Ow. Would it be so bad if he let her heal it? A few less days of pain would be great. It wasn’t like he was removing his mask.
The fabric of Ben’s suit was pulled up from the ‘belt’ area, exposing the reddened area of his obliques. Pain twinged again, but Peter merely nodded. It was permission granted.
Stevie let out a short, relieved breath. Spider-Man really was everything people said about them. She gave a short nod when Peter gestured.
“Oh, wow. Your costume is really well made. I thought it was all one piece.” Stevie licked her other hand, the one that had not just touched the less clean hood of her car, and then touched the palm of her hand against his skin.
Stevie always imagined a sound, like a chime, or a slight glimmer of healing magic, but her powers were always more about how she felt. She felt a pearl of happiness, and therefore her spit healed. The contact lasted only a second before she removed her hand and took a step back.
“Better?”
“It’s so much harder to change if it’s one piece, and then if you ever have to go…” Was he really about to start explaining that bathroom use was difficult in a onesie? Peter stopped. “I mean, yeah. Logistics, y’know? This is better. Shirt and pants. Basically.” He should have stopped a little harder. The rambling thing was really not working right now.
But Stevie’s hand pressed against his side, and it was…
Weird. Instantaneous. The pain stopped. Peter didn’t know what he expected to see when he looked down, but all he could tell was that the redness had vanished. He gave the area a tentative poke. It felt fine.
“Wow. Wow, that’s…” The shirt was tugged back down and tucked back into place. “That’s a really cool gift you have there. Thank you.”
Stevie nodded about the costume. It wasn’t a conversation she was expecting to have with a superhero but in terms of weird conversations she’d had over the past sixteen years, it seemed pretty normal to her. She wondered if she should have gotten a costume. But then she probably would have had to get rid of her flip flops and that just didn’t seem comfortable.
So when he thanked her for the healing, she shrugged modestly.
“Oh. Yeah. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to be in Empire City a few more days if you need anything? Maybe a week, I haven’t decided yet. Um. Do you do phone numbers? It’s okay if you don’t. I just thought I’d offer in case you get pulled into having to fight. That’s not something I miss at all.”
Huh. She never had anyone to talk shop with. Not like this. What if he was part alien, too? Maybe there were a race of spider people out among the stars. With right limbs they probably gave great hugs.
Peter stared. Or, rather, the eyespots of Spider-Man mask stared. Which they always did, but was more obvious when he was quiet.
Phone number? Like, she wanted his number? He had to dismiss the first reason anyone would ask for one. This wasn’t a pick-up.
And, yes, he had one, but it wasn’t as if he was about to share that. It was an open confession of identity because he had just one phone. And it was easy to find out that that number belonged to Peter Parker.
He was standing there too long without replying.
“I… have a phone number, but I can’t…” His tone was teetering on uncertainty. Staggered words, almost questioning in tone as he didn’t know if the right words were coming out of his mouth. “Give you that? It’s nothing personal. I just… never had anyone want to reach me. I don’t actually have a plan for that.”
Stevie blinked, and then her face turned the slightest bit pink. “Oh! Right. The secret identity thing. I never really had one.” But she was undeterred, and ever the problem-solver started to think with an audible hmm.
“Throw away email account? I get those on my phone, too. I mean, you don’t have to. I’m not planning on staying here in Empire City long. Maybe that’s too much effort.”
Stevie thought again.
“Although Lion is back home in Beach City. I guess if you really needed my help I could phone my dad and Lion could teleport to me and then I could teleport to you, and then I could heal you…”
There was an extremely casual way Stevie talked about teleportation. It was the culture she was raised in. To her, it was … normal?
“...I mean, if you want. I just think it’s really great what you’re doing, helping people.”
“Actually…” Stevie did have a good idea. If only he’d brought his phone along, but it was currently crammed into his backpack, which was stashed on top of another roof for safe keeping. Also, the battery had died so there wasn’t a point in carrying it right now. “If you write your email down, I could… send you a message?” From something encrypted. That would work.
This was networking, wasn’t it? Like a job fair, but… not like a job fair at all.
“And then… and then you can get your, uh… lion? To teleport you.” Solid. He was sure Ben never fumbled conversations this much, but hopefully he got better at them or -- well, the other option was wishful thinking. If Ben was here, then he wouldn’t need to struggle through this stuff.
He didn’t reply to the last of her remarks. It felt wrong, taking credit for anything. He was just a substitute until the real deal was back, after all.
Stevie brightened a little. “Sure! Lion’s pretty lazy but with the right ice cream treats I can usually convince him to take me places.”
Stevie opened the back seat of her car, pushed aside her blanket and pillow where she’d been sleeping, searched the floor of the car for her notebook and a pen, and when that didn’t turn up among her worldly possessions, closed the door and checked the passenger side until she found it.
She did her best to write neatly: Stevie Universe, followed by her email.
Tearing the page out of her notebook, she handed it to Spider-Man.
“Hopefully you won’t need to use it?” Which sounded weird to say, like Stevie wouldn’t be happy to hear from the superhero, but hopefully he knew what she meant. He seemed pretty serious about the hero stuff.
If the conversation was awkward, Stevie didn’t notice at all. Talking to heroes was easier than talking to normal humans who weren’t used to aliens, apparently.
It struck Peter that he didn’t know if Lion was a lion. Lion could be a lion. It wouldn’t be wild, would it? With all the people and things that came to the City and called it home, a teleporting lion wouldn’t be the weirdest. He’d just never met one before. And he felt too embarrassed to ask because what if this was something everyone knew about and he’d zoned out in the moment the news broke?
He needed to figure out how to get some confidence ASAP.
In the meanwhile, he reached out and took the piece of paper from Stevie. As many did upon being given something, he read aloud the name. “Stevie.” He didn’t know what he would have guessed her name was, but now that he looked up… Stevie suited her.
“Thanks, Stevie. I uh…” He pointed up. It was the ‘I need to go’ gesture -- very universal, but just oriented to a different axis for a Spider-Man. “I should run.”
Stevie was C List, at best. After all, the action on Beach City couldn’t have been dangerous? There were no deaths, no major property damage. The worst that was ever really widely reported were a few unusual earth tremors. Stevie didn’t know why the aliens that had frequently come to that spot weren’t bigger news, but that was probably for the best. It wasn’t really a secret, just…
And Crystal Gems? It was a silly hero team name. Who wanted to report on The Crystal Gems? It didn’t sound very serious or tough as far as hero team names went.
But Spider-Man? Everyone knew who Spider-Man was. (Not like, who he was, but…)
Stevie looked a little embarrassed for keeping him as long as she had. He probably had important patrols to run or cats to save that were stuck up in tall trees at the very least. Her face turned the slightest bit pink. “Oh! Yeah. It was nice meeting you.”
She gave him a small wave.
Watching him leap and then swing away was impressive. More so than, Stevie’s ability, she thought. Stevie could manipulate her relationship to gravity. Spider-Man, however, was just that good.
“Wow.”
Stevie stood in awe for another minute before crawling back into her car to get a few more hours of sleep.