(user peter c:)

It started with small things, FRIDAY dropping Peter’s location mid-patrol, his vitals flickering out for minutes at a time, little malfunctions Tony blamed on Stark tech rather than the boy himself. He wanted to believe it was a glitch. He had to.

But by the fourth time Peter’s signal went completely dark, Tony couldn’t ignore the pit forming in his chest. The kid had been quiet lately. Too quiet. Avoiding training sessions, skipping dinner in the compound, brushing off questions with that same shaky smile that said, ‘I’m fine, Mr. Stark. Really.’ It wasn’t fine. It never was.

FRIDAY’s voice broke the silence in his lab. “Sir… I cannot locate Peter Parker’s biometric signature within a fifty-mile radius.”

Tony froze mid-step, wrench slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor. “Run that again.”

“I have. Five times.”

He didn’t wait for more. His pulse quickened as he marched down the corridor, through the sterile hallways of the compound that suddenly felt too big, too empty. The boy’s door was slightly ajar something Peter never did. Tony pushed it open slowly, the metallic hiss of the hinge sounding unnaturally loud.

At first, he thought maybe Peter had just left in a hurry. The bed was a mess of tangled sheets, the suit neatly folded on the chair beside it that alone sent a chill through Tony. Peter never left the suit behind.

But then he noticed the phone on the floor cracked, screen still faintly glowing with an unread message to “Mr. Stark.” Only half a word typed before it cut off.

And the air… the air smelled strange. Sweet, almost metallic. The scent of something organic silk, warm circuitry, ozone. Then he heard it a soft, sticky tearing sound above him.

Tony’s eyes lifted and his heart stopped.

The ceiling corner was covered in something thick a mass of silver-white webbing stretching from wall to wall, glistening like frost. In the center hung a cocoon, about the size of a person, suspended by dozens of web lines. The silk pulsed faintly, veins of light running through it in uneven waves like something breathing inside.

“FRIDAY…” Tony’s voice was barely a whisper “Tell me I’m not seeing what I think I’m seeing.”

“Life signs detected,” the AI answered. “The subject is alive but unresponsive. Heart rate unstable. Cellular readings are… abnormal.”

Tony took a slow, shaky step closer. The cocoon trembled a faint noise escaping it, somewhere between a breath and a whimper. His chest tightened until he could barely speak.

“Kid…” he whispered. “What did you do?”

The light flickered across the silk again, and this time Tony saw a shadow moving inside, curled in on itself. Then, fingers. Thin, trembling, pressed weakly against the inside of the cocoon as if trying to push through. The silk strained but didn’t break.

“FRIDAY, analyze it. What’s happening to him?”

“Unknown,” she replied. “Peter Parker’s DNA is restructuring. The mutation appears to be… self-induced.”

“Self-induced?” Tony snapped “You mean he did this to himself?!”

Silence. Then, quietly “He was hiding elevated stress levels and neurological irregularities for the past two weeks. He may have been aware his powers were failing.”

Tony’s breath caught. His mind raced with everything he’d missed the stiff movements, the hesitation when swinging, the small winces when landing. The excuses. The way Peter had stopped calling at night.

He’d been scared. Too scared to tell anyone.

The cocoon pulsed again, faster now, as if it could feel Tony’s voice. The faintest hum came from within, the sound of labored breathing. Tony reached out, his hand hovering just short of touching the silk warm and slightly vibrating beneath his fingers.