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If Bailey Nichols didn’t love her little brother so damn much, then she would have done something normal today. She would have maybe gone thrifting with Jesus or had Amiee practice her dyeing skills on her hair. (She really wanted to master the art of the mermaid.)
Maybe, just maybe, she would have even done some writing today. Her script for her latest short film needed another polish, but she’s already done five. She was tired of looking at it or thinking about it.
But no, Bailey Nichols loved her pain in the ass little brother with all her heart. So, for Chris, she would go all the way to fucking, goddamn Queens on a Wednesday to track down a spandex clad vigilante. Then, somehow, Bailey was going to convince said spandex clad vigilante to come to her little brother’s birthday party.
Of course, Chris had to be difficult and not like someone who Bailey could find in the phonebook. Granted, Spider-Man operated in mostly in the daytime. But why couldn’t Chris like Luke Cage or someone easier to find?
(Amiee met him, Luke Cage that is. Not Spider-Man. Said he was really cool with a little flush to her cheeks that Bailey wanted to see how much it would-
Record scratch. Bailey was not going to go down that road today. Her anxiety wanting to ask Amiee to the Spring Fling was high, high up on the list.)
Bailey shoved an errant strand of brown and purple hair from her face. She narrowed her eyes at the bright sunshine and took out her phone. Carefully, she brought up Twitter and went to @Super_Watch.
Before the whole so-called “Civil War” between the supers (enhanced? gifted? the terms changed too frequently for Bailey to keep up), the feed was mostly filled with little snapshots. Iron Man soaring through the air, Captain America on his daily jog, Thor in Hello Kitty PJ bottoms and a shirt that read ‘I Survived My Trip To NYC’ carrying Reese’s by the pallet full, Falcon having a cup of coffee. Rarer still were the photos of Hawkeye, Black Widow, Vision, and the Scarlet Witch.
The usual.
After, well it was mostly Spidey. Stark was keeping his head down. The remaining Avengers who hadn’t been arrested and locked up without legal representation were keeping their heads down. No one really wanted to out where the fuck ever Cap and his crew were.
Sometimes, there were shots of the Daredevil or Luke Cage. (Bailey should be thankful that Chris’s favorite wasn’t Daredevil. No one has seen him in months.) Once or twice even a guy known as Ant-Man made it on the feed.
Mostly, however, @Super_Watch should be named @Spider_Watch until the Accords were revised or Cap and Iron Man had a big boy talk.
It was because of the feed, and YouTube, that Bailey found herself in Queens on a bright sunshiney Wednesday afternoon looking for said web slinger for her little brother.
Well, actually, blaming Twitter and YouTube was a very simple solution for a complex problem that started two years ago. Two years ago, when Chris (still Crystal) sat down Bailey and their parents that he was a boy on the inside and that he didn’t want to be a girl anymore.
Their parents accepted it, utterly. But that was their parents who were barely out of their teens when they had Bailey, all CBGB punk and rage against the machine. It was something they had never really grown out of. Both of them still pulled aging punk rocker really well as did their friends. A lot of said friends were in the LGBT community. Bailey and Chris had been attending New York Pride since they were in diapers.
Bailey never knew she could love her parents more than in those early days. When Crystal became Christopher who became Chris, throughout the doctors’ visits to get him on the right path to transitioning, to talking with the school staff, to talk with friends or friends of friends who went through the transition, and all the other little things that mattered.
Still the world is cruel, especially to trans kids. Chris, even as Crystal, wasn’t super popular: quiet, shy, well-read, who fidgeted and bit nails down to the quick. No one was outright bullying him. The teachers let him use the faculty bathroom and called him by the correct pronouns. The school had one of the strictest anti-bullying policies in the state. Chris had reluctantly handed out invitations (store bought) to his class, Bailey and her parents had the feeling that most people who would show up where Bailey’s friends or friends of Mom and Dad (all got handmade).
Bailey’s friends were amazing. With all her heart, she loved that they would come to Chris’ birthday party so he wouldn’t be without people. Chris loved her friends and thought they were endlessly cool.
Still Bailey knew that Chris would have liked for someone to come.
So even if Bailey had to go against God and the Devil and Tony Stark himself to get Spider-Man to at least come for five minutes to Chris’ birthday party, then she will do it. Because Chris is her pain in the ass little brother and she would do anything she could for him.
Bailey stared down at her phone and shoved the errant strand of hair back again before hitching up her backpack and walking to an area where Spider-Man usually made a daily appearance.
“Spider-Man? Hell yeah he’s been here!” exclaimed the bearded hot dog cart operator with cheer. “He trades back-flips for hot dogs. Man that guy can eat a lot.”
“Yeah? Does he usually come at a certain time?”
“Like three or four usually? He gets the mid-day munchies like the rest of us.”
He paused and considered Bailey.
“Are you a journalist or somethin’?”
Bailey raised an eyebrow, looked down at her outfit: Batman crop-top mixed with ripped jeans and fishnets with her floral combat boots. Her dad’s old patched leather jacket was tied around her waist.
“Do I look like one?”
“That doesn’t fly much nowadays. You could be a blogger or somethin’. Queens loves Spidey.”
“Nah. My little brother’s been going through a rough time recently. I though an autograph or something would cheer him up. He’s a good kid, you know? He doesn’t deserve other people’s crap.”
Beardy eyed her for a moment before nodding.
“You can hang out here then. But you need to buy something.”
As if on cue, Bailey’s stomach grumbles.
“Got relish?”
A snort from Beardy.
“Do I got relish? Please.”
One loaded hot dog with a sweaty Coke later, Bailey had her notebook on her lap while waiting for the masked hero to swing by for an afternoon snack. She was also sucking on a mint to deal with onion breath because gross.
One of her headphones was tucked into her ear. Paul McCartney sweetly drifted through singing about how he was in love but lazy. Same, bro, Bailey thought idly.
Beardy’s name was Jack, Bailey learned. He was working at the hot dog cart to save up for a food truck where he wanted to have it be focused on sausages. He also made the relish for his cart fresh.
To be honest? It was pretty good relish. Jack suddenly stilled and looked up.
“He’s here.”
Bailey looked up too. Sure enough, there on a rooftop ledge was Spider-Man. In reality, he was more leanly muscled than scrawny like the fuzzy pictures made him look. For a guy though, he seemed a little on the shorter side.
“Hey Spider-Man!” called Jack with a wave.
Spider-Man waved back, “Want me to do a back-flip?”
“Maybe later. Got someone here who wants to meet you!”
Bailey heaved herself upwards from the bench, shoving her notebook in her bag and her tangled earbuds back in. She pulled out a slightly crumpled birthday invitation that Chris, her, and their dad had handmade together. None of them went to the kids at Chris’ school, all of them went to Bailey’s friends and family friends. People who deserved handmade invitations.
Spider-Man, hopefully, deserved one as well.
Chris said it didn’t bother him, insisted on it, but Bailey knew her brother better than that.
Spider-Man gracefully scampered down the building and across the street to where Jack’s cart was set up. Bailey kept the invitation in one hand while her free one pulled out a couple of crumpled bills.
He considered Bailey in what she hoped was curiosity. The alien like eyes of his costume contracted thoughtfully. She wondered what kind of sight she made to him.
Bailey turned to Jack.
“Give me one of his usual.”
The eyes expanded, “No! You don’t have to do that. Seriously.”
Christ, he sounded like her age. Maybe a couple years older if not. Bailey was all for fighting the good fight, protest marches, screaming to be heard in an uncaring world, everyday kindness and heroism.
But she didn’t think she could put on a mask and be a hero.
She passed the money to Jack.
“You’re giving me your time to talk to me. Gotta repay you. I’m Bailey by the way, Bailey Nichols.”
“Spider-Man.”
He stuck out his hand. She took it. The fabric of her costume reminded her a bit of those leotards that Amiee wore to her tap classes, except a bit more ridged.
“Do…Do you need help with something, Bailey? No one has really sought me out before.”
Bailey held the invitation tighter. Jack handed over the hot dog.
“Yeah. My little brother needs it anyway.”
Spider-Man ate the hot dog first. Like some kind of weirdo, he sat on the back of his bench with his feet on the seat. The mask pulled up to his nose, revealing a jawline.
Bailey wondered if he even shaved yet.
Still he polished off the hot dog in record time. Bailey handed him a stick of gum because onions and enclosed spaces did not end well. Delightedly, he popped it in his mouth.
“So Bailey Nichols, how can your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man help your little brother?”
Bailey handed over the handmade invitation.
“Chris, my brother, came out as trans two years ago. His birthday party is going to consist of our parents, their friends, my friends, and me. No one from his class seems to…get it. Or their parents are more supportive in that distant way. They don’t mind trans people so long as they don’t know one or what the fuck ever. I know you’re probably busy or whatever, but your Chris’s favorite superhero. Pictures all over the walls and everything. I was just hoping you could come by? For like five minutes. High-five, photo, autograph?”
For one uncomfortable moment, Spider-Man was silent. Bailey’s mind immediately went to worst case scenario. He was gonna say no. He was gonna be a transphobe asshole about it. She was probably going to punch him and end up on Iron Man’s shitlist and go into hiding wherever the fuck Captain America is chilling out and that fucker Donnie was going to ask Amiee out to Spring Fling and-
“Sure. Sounds like fun.”
Bailey tumbled out of her fantasy and into the real world.
“Really?”
“Yeah! I never met an actual fan before. I didn’t even know I had any.”
Bailey stared at him and laughed. Something like relief washed over her body.
“Well alright then. Details are on the invitation. I’ll see you Saturday, Spider-Man. Be there barring the end of the world.”
“Or else?”
Bailey grinned at him, “I am stupid enough to come here to punch you in the face.”
Spider-Man laughed.
And then his eyes expanded to their fullest setting.
“That was a joke, right?”
Bailey just turned on her heel and walked away.
“Guess you need to come by and find out.”
The Saturday of Chris Nichols birthday party was bright and sunny. Roger “Crash” Nichols, an early thirty-something with a shaved head who still got carded for booze, had gotten permission from the super of the building to reserve the roof for the day. An easy task considering that the guitarist/mechanic also did odd jobs around the building to get a reduction for their rent.
Bailey watched as her mother, Marlena, twirled around the kitchen singing under her breath. She rocked a recent undercut with her long violently pink hair over her shoulder. She’s looking over the baked goods and food.
Themed parties, according to Chris, were for babies. So it was an everything that Chris liked party: Spider-Man, Steven Universe, the Clash, Harry Potter, Sailor Moon, and Buzzfeed Unsolved.
(The last one, admittedly, was Bailey’s fault. But it was super addictive to watch. The whole family also liked Ghost Adventures and Unsolved Mysteries way too much to be concerned healthy or normal.)
As Bailey considered stealing a Spider-Man cookie (iced to look like his costume), she wondered again if she should have told her parents about inviting Spider-Man.
Bailey also wanted it to be a surprise and be the best big sister in the history of big sisters. So she kept her mouth shut.
Lucky that’s the moment that Amiee buzzed to be let in. Bailey happily ditched her ethical dilemma to let her inside.
(She wore a leather jacket with red rose patches and dyed her hair Black Widow Red. It looked perfect against her warm copper of her skin. She looked absolutely beautiful and smelled faintly of lavender. Bailey had it totally 100% bad.)
On the invitations, the party’s official start time was around two in the afternoon. For the most part though, it started whenever the majority of the guests had wandered in. Given that the majority of the guests usually slept until noon on the weekends, it was really sometime around three that the party was in full swing.
The rooftop area was in full swing. Crash and the Test Dummies were in full swing. It was probably a stupid name for a band, especially a small punk one, but Bailey long accepted her parents’ eccentricities.
Chris was soaking up the attention of Bailey’s friends and their extended not-blood but even more important network of aunts and uncles. He was currently next to Auntie Nozomi, who had begun the transition process at eighteen, content to be near her. A crown was lopsided on his head and there was a bit of sweet and sour sauce around his mouth.
Bailey smiled at the sight.
“He looks happy,” Amiee said with a slow smile.
“I thought you were talking with Jesus about costumes and make-up.”
“The cast of the next Bailey Nichols original short will be the best dressed for a budget ever.”
“Do I ever doubt you?”
Amiee smiled with warm amusement in her brown eyes. Her eyes were done in red and black. She was determined for a Black Widow theme today.
Amiee was more beautiful than a hundred Natasha Romanoffs though. In Bailey’s mind anyway.
Bailey was overcome by the sudden need to ask Amiee to the Spring Fling.
“Hey. So…um…”
Amiee tilted her head curiously.
“You know how that silly Spring Fling dance is comin’ up and I-I was…"
Bailey stared down at her tried and true combat boots.
Of course, that was the moment that Spider-Man chose to show his face.
Bailey knew because the party had gone totally silent. Hoping against hope that they weren’t watching her awkward ass ask out Amiee to a dance, she turned to where they were staring just over her shoulder.
There crouched on the edge of the rooftop doorway was Spider-Man in all his costumed glory. He was wearing a backpack.
“Hey!”
He pulled out the birthday invitation carefully.
“I was invited. Where’s Chris? I never met a fan before. I’m super excited.”
Chris gasped and rocketed up from his place beside Auntie Nozomi, who got the sweet and sour sauce off Chris’ face.
“I’m Chris!” he said. His gray eyes were wide and wondering. “Hi Spider-Man!”
“Hey, my dude!”
Spider-Man acrobatically flipped off the roof and landed in a crouch in front of Chris. Whose eyes got wider, if that was even possible.
“Your big sister invited me to your party.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Bailey except Chris who was drinking his hero in. Her mom looked like she was going to cry, which would mean a mess of eyeliner and mascara later on. Her dad just gave her a thumb’s up.
“I know the invitation said two. I’m sorry I’m late.”
“That’s okay! Are you hungry, Spider-Man?”
“I could eat. Why don’t you show me what’s good, huh?”
Chris beamed and took the hero to the buffet style table. Bailey’s heart grew three sizes at the sight.
“Well,” drawled her dad into the microphone. “Looks like this party is officially the coolest. Who else gets a real hero here at one, huh? So let’s show Spider-Man a good time!”
Everyone immediately resumed their conversations. Though their eyes kept sliding to the hero, who was loading up a plate with food, Chris clearly telling him some kind of story.
The only one not turning their gaze to Spider-Man was Amiee who stared at Bailey with something in her eyes that made Bailey’s stomach hurt in a good way.
Spider-Man was really good with Chris, who stuck by the superhero like glue and worshipful adoration. Most people gave them the necessary distance, letting Chris talk and ask him questions. He even let Chris give the device that he uses for webbing a try.
Everyone crowded to watch. Chris took aim at the doorway wall.
“You gotta put your fingers like this,” Spider-Man said. His thumb, pointer, and pinky fingers extended while his middle and ring were folded down. “And then you just flick your wrist and-“
Chris flicked his wrist and a shot of fluid splattered against the wall.
“I did it, Spidey!”
Spider-Man tilted his head. His eyes contracted thoughtfully.
“Spidey?”
“Spider-Man’s a mouthful.”
Spider-Man scratched his chin thoughtfully. The eyes of his costume expanded, “I like it.”
Chris preened and gave the superhero a high five.
“It’s adorably badass,” piped up Bailey’s friend Henri who was eyeing the newly dubbed Spidey like he was the last candy bar on Earth. “Like you.”
A nervous laugh, “My girlfriend will never let me here the end of it. She already thinks I’m kind of a dumb…“
He trailed off, uncertain, looking at Chris. Bailey’s mom laughed.
“The kids have heard worse. You can say dumbass, Spidey. I’m sure you’re not though.”
“Compared to here I am. She listens to esoteric French disco and reads more books in a day than I do in a week.”
He sounded like a lovestruck fool. Bailey could relate. Henri pouted.
Spidey, as everyone had taken to calling him, stayed for the whole party. He ate a frankly horrifying amount of food, taught Chris how to backflip in addition to web-slinging, posed for countless selfies and photos with the guest, eagerly talked about his love of the Ramones and Sailor Moon, learned useful phrases in different languages for help with patrolling, danced in a pretty flaling manner, and was generally the life of the party.
Chris blew out the candles of his Steven Universe cake to the cheers and applauds of those who loved him. The brightness of his grin outshone the light of the candles that shone brightly.
Everyone cheered. Cake was cut and gifts were given.
Bailey’s friends provided the chunk of the homemade presents handmade t-shirts, mixes, drawings, and the like. The adults provided a mixture of handmade and bought depending on their feelings of the capitalistic machine and cash flow. Their parents presented Chris with the cell phone that he’s been begging for.
Spider-Man grabbed the backpack that he left on the top of the doorway.
He presented Chris with a larger gift and smaller one.
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Well it’s your birthday. You deserve presents.”
The larger one was torn open first. Chris gasped in delight as it revealed a binder patterned after Spider-Man’s costume. Bailey knew that thing was never, ever, ever coming off.
Chris hugged it to his chest as everyone craned for a closer look.
“I’ll give you the name of the place where I got it made,” Spider-Man promised.
The smaller one was torn open next. In it was what looked like a friendship bracelet inset into a leather band.
Chris tilted his head at it.
Spider-Man tilted his head and tied it on Chris’ wrist.
“Just a reminder that you are my friend, Chris, even when you feel alone.”
Chris beamed at it and hugged Spidey.
“Love you, Spider-Man.”
Spider-Man hugged Chris close.
“Love you too, buddy.”
If everyone was a bit teary-eyed, well sometimes heartwarming shit needed to be teary-eyed.
Eventually, the party winded down. People had to go to jobs or to clubs or to other obligations, Chris was passed out in a way that he hadn’t been since he was a small child.
Spider-Man, a gentleman with super strength, helped carry equipment down and pack up the party.
“You don’t have to,” Bailey said.
“Well it seems polite.”
He paused.
“Thanks. For inviting me. When I was his age, I could have used something like this.”
Bailey’s head snapped up at that.
“You’re…”
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong. I have an awesome support system too like he does. And I made some great friends. And transitioning has been better lately. We got a new health plan and Iron Man has like kind of adopted me or something? But when I was his age? It still…”
He paused.
“I’d appreciate it if you kept this to yourself. I’m out as me, but-“
“Hey. I won’t say anything. Thank you for telling me.”
“I told Chris. He promised to keep it quiet too.”
Bailey nodded and continued her descent.
“Also and you can totally tell me if this is out of line, but that Amiee girl totally likes you back. She’d probably say yes if you finished asking her to your dance.”
Bailey blushed.
“Keep a move on, Spider-Dork.”
“Yep. I stick my foot into my mouth all the time too.”
Spider-Man left with an awkward salute and graceful drop from the building. Chris was carried down and tucked into bed. Mom and Dad were currently on the roof, breaking out the MJ to destress after the day’s events.
Bailey and Amiee were on the couch, watching reruns of Buzzfeed Unsolved as Ryan Bergara insisted he wasn’t fat-shaming Bigfoot.
Amiee paused the episode and looked at Bailey expectantly.
“You were going to ask me something. Earlier.”
Bailey looked up into Amiee’s warm eyes and licked her lips.
“Do…Do you wanna go to Spring Fling with-“
Amiee lunged forward and kissed her, long and hard. Fireworks exploded. Internal backflips. Cheers and applause from the studio audience.
Amiee pulled back. Bailey stared at her dazed.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Amiee smiled and tapped their heads together, “Duh.”
Weeks later, Bailey was back in fucking Queens again. Amiee insisted that Bailey would look best in a slim-fitting suit and had a arranged for her to go visit her aunt for tailoring.
The Jones apartment was fairly spacious and open, covered with books on every surface. Mrs. Jones, like her niece, had copper colored skin and a bright smile on her face.
“Come in! Come in! Anything for Amiee’s girlfriend.”
“We haven’t even gone on a date yet, Mrs. Jones.”
“Oh Amiee has been talking about you for years. Now my daughter, MJ, has her boyfriend over. They’re working on a school project, but this won’t take long. You have the suit?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.”
“Mrs. Jones?” called a shocking familiar voice. “Do you mind if I have another glass of juice?”
“Sure thing, Peter! Juice is in the fridge.”
“Thanks! I need to tell May about this farmer’s market…”
A pale teenager with gangly limbs, a Superman t-shirt, and old jeans walked in with an empty glass. He stopped still when he saw Bailey. Brown hair falling into his eyes.
Christ, Bailey thought, Spider-Man was fucking adorable.
“Peter, this is my neice’s girlfriend, Bailey. Bailey this is MJ’s boyfriend, Peter.”
Bailey, proving that she could be a writer/director/actor, put on a big smile.
“Nice to meet you, Pete.”
“Uh you too.”
His handshake was firm but a little sticky. Probably from nerves.
Mrs. Jones looked pleased as she went to go get her sewing kit.
Bailey unstuck her hand from Peter’s.
“Um I…”
“Chris wears that binder you got him all the time,” Bailey said. “And I meant what I said. No one will get anything from me.”
Bailey felt inordinately pleased at the vaguely stunned look on Peter’s face. She winked at him before going to change into her suit.
Two years later, Bailey gets a full ride to the UCLA film school thanks to the Maria Stark Foundation. (A few years later, Chris would go to Boston University with a similar scholarship.)
Her letter contained one line at the bottom.
This has to be the greatest thank yous of all thank yous, btw. – Peter