Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Techno grumbled to himself as the keys of his computer clacked away, words spilling out onto the page and yet nothing at all seeming to be written. This essay was just not working out like how he'd envisioned it, and he strongly suspected that this was going to be a B if he was very lucky and maybe his Professor didn't read too much into the waffle and flowery language he was using to disguise the fact that he had no clue what he was doing anymore.

"Techno? I'm home!"

"I'm in the bedroom, Phil!" Techno hollered back across the small apartment as the front door slammed shut, trudging footsteps approaching their little bedroom before his roommate poked his head around the corner.

Phil looked exhausted, likely having been on his feet for most of his twelve hour shift at Osborne Laboratories, and Techno quickly saved the file he was working on and shut his computer down, crossing the room to pull him into a tight hug, knowing that that was exactly what Phil needed.

"Good day?" he murmured, feeling Phil melt against the embrace.

"Long." replied Phil, "You?"

"Only got yelled at twice, so I'm counting that as a win." Techno wrinkled his nose, sniffing slightly at Phil's hair, "You smell like smoke again. I thought you said you were gonna quit?"

"I did quit," said Phil, pulling back with a cheeky smile, "But non-smokers don't get to take smoke breaks, and I'd rather deal with the craving than stand around alone in the lab."

"You have a point, but you also stink. Go shower, I'll throw your clothes in the laundry and then make dinner."

"You're a star, mate, I'll see you in a bit. Now get out so I can change, I love you but not in that way."

"I'm hurt, Philza, we share a bed and everything!"

"Yeah cause we're dirt fucking poor, can't afford a two bedroom apartment, and also can't afford the medical bills from fucking up our backs on the couch."

Flipping his roommate off (Phil was more than a roommate, he was his best friend, his platonic soulmate, and the person Techno had kinda accepted he was going to spend the rest of his life with, but that was too long to say, so he said roommate instead), Techno grabbed the clothes that Phil tossed through a crack in the door, and headed down to the laundry room, which was literally a cupboard with a washing machine in it, and began turning out the pockets, because Phil was a lazy bastard and never remembered to.

He was scrabbling at the loose change in his trousers when he felt the thing move.

Wrist deep in a pocket, fishing for dimes, when what at first he'd assumed was perhaps some kind of strange candy pulsed, scuttled, and then sunk what felt like tiny needles into his finger.

Techno, not being the sort of white person who died first in horror movies, did the only sensible thing and screamed at the top of his lungs, hurling the trousers away from him. He scrabbled backwards down the hallway, having fallen flat on his ass, and that was where Phil found him thirty seconds later, soaking wet and clearly having run straight out of the shower.

"Techno?" he asked frantically, dropping to his knees beside him, "What happened? Did you fall? Did-"

"Phil." Techno's voice was calm and controlled, and only slightly higher than normal, "Did you by chance forget to tell me you were bringing a specimen home?"

Phil's blonde brows wrinkled in confusion, "What? No? I would've told- oh god."

"Yeah. Oh god."

They both stared together at the little creature perched on the waist band of Phil's trousers, it's fat body the size of Techno's thumbnail, glowing red and pulsing slightly in the dimness of the hallway. He got the strangest impression that the spider wanted them to see it. Which was ridiculous, of course, it was a spider-

(He ignored the fact that the spider was also radiating the most self-satisfied aura he'd ever seen on a living creature. He could deal with that when blood wasn't slowly trickling down his thumb)

"I- I should probably get it-"

Despite his words, Phil didn't move. Techno didn't blame him.

"You know, before it bites one of us or something."

"… bit late for that." Techno waggled his injured thumb, which was aching something awful, and seemed to be slowly spreading up his hand.

"… I have a sneaking suspicion I'm going to lose my job over this."

"You're probably right. Also- please put some pants on, if I die from this, I don't want the last thing I see to be your dick."

"If you do die, I'm putting that on your gravestone."

"I hate you. Get the spider."

-0-0-0-0-0-

Techno was in free fall.

Plummeting towards the ground, harsh pavement racing up to meet him, to shatter his bones, snap his spine, turn him into a bloody splat on the concrete.

Closer and closer, until time itself seemed to slow to allow him to witness his own death, every blade on every weed creeping through the cracks in the stones, the buzz of every wing of every fly on the strewn garbage that adorned every section of New York.

And then he was snapping back up, webs slinging out of his wrists to clamp onto the edge of a nearby building, grappling him back up into the sky, for an endless moment of weightlessness, just him alone in egg-shell blue before gravity claimed him once more.

Phil always nagged him about doing this - it wasn't good for his joints, his long-suffering husband-for-tax-benefits would complain, and one day Techno would miss that last second web and then who did he expect to scrape his splattered corpse off the ground?

Techno always laughed at him, and then brought up every time he could remember that Phil had face planted on flat, smooth surfaces, until he forgot what he'd been scolding him about in the first place.

Fifteen years of this, not a single missed jump (of his own accord, he didn't count being attacked as falling), and nor was he planning to any time in the near future.

(He ignored the part about his joints. Sure, everything ached most days, he was pretty sure his shoulders shouldn't click like that, and sometimes the pain was bad enough that he'd be in bed for hours after Phil left for work, fighting to keep his breathing steady as he went for the prescription pain meds Niki had gotten for him- look, that sounded bad, but it really wasn't, it was nothing Techno couldn't deal with, and you got aches and pains as you grew older, right? It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just the standard wear and tear of vigilantism).

The sun was almost entirely gone now, even from his perch on the top of a building, and the chill was beginning to hit. It felt unfair that it was so cold in the autumn - winter wasn't supposed to start until December, and it was barely October. He'd have to get Phil to check the heaters in his suit, his teeth were threatening to chatter already, which wasn't a great look for the Spiderman.

Home time, Techno decided as the last rays of sun slipped over the edge of the horizon, pulling up his most frequented contact on the communicator thing-a-majig that Stark had sent him, the smug bastard.

"Hey mate!" came the slightly less cheerful than normal tones of his husband through the comm, as clear as if Phil was standing right behind him, "You on your way home? No trouble?"

"Nah, it's quiet out here tonight," Techno replied, sitting himself slowly on the ledge of the building, wincing as his back twinged, "Do you want me to pick up dinner from that Italian place you like? Or are you making something already?"

He could hear the smile in Phil's voice, but it was strained, "Italian sounds good. Travel back safe, yeah?"

Techno squinted at the comm, despite the fact Phil couldn't see him, "Is everything okay? You don't sound right."

The laugh Phil gave was most certainly fake, strangled and insincere. "Y-yeah, everything's fine, Techno- well, okay, it's not all fine, but it can wait until you're home."

"Phil? Are you safe? Did something happen? Is-"

Phil sighed heavily, "Tech, I'm fine, I promise, it's- I'll tell you when you're home."

"Tell me now," insisted Techno, "What happened?"

"… okay so you know the spiders-"

Techno gave a screeching groan, "Why is it always spiders! Answer me that, Philza! Why can't it be the- killer butterflies for once! Please don't tell me you got bitten, I know we joke we're a power couple but-"

"It's worse than that."

"Well now I want you to have been bitten. Cmon, spill it, what happened."

"Okay so- you know that every morning I milk the spiders of their venom?"

"I hate that word but yes."

"Well- this morning, one of the spiders didn't produce much. Which isn't usually that bad, except this one always produces a full dose, it makes venom practically faster than I can harvest."

"I thought you said you didn't get bit!"

"I didn't. And I'm the only one working with the spiders, so it won't have been another member of staff."

"Phil. If it wasn't the staff, and it wasn't you-"

"There…. may-have-been-a-tour-group-of-students-yesterday."

Phil spoke so fast that even Techno, with his advanced hearing, barely picked it up. He paused to take a deep, calming breath. He was calm, he was zen, he was doing the breathing techniques Niki had recommended when she'd gotten worried about his high blood pressure.

"THERE WAS WHAT?"

"Techno! Don't-"

"Don't what, Phil? You're telling me that we potentially have not just another mutant on our hands, not just a mutant with my powers, but a child mutant- okay you know what, I'm gonna get dinner, we're gonna eat, and then we can freak out over the small child with super powers."

"Technically it's a teenager, not-"

"That's so not the point."

"… don't forget the garlic bread."

"You, Philza Craft, are very lucky that I like you too much to kill you and claim the money. You're also lucky that everyone at your workplace is too scared of spiders to pay too close attention to what you're doing, because we'd be screwed if we lost your insurance. Alright, I'll see you in a bit with the food. There's no point panicking now, it'll take a few weeks to find the kid, probably. Not like they're going to swing through the city in an amateur Spiderman suit right in front of my-"

"… Techno? Are you okay?"

Techno paused again. It was incredibly stupid, but then again so was this entire situation, and he was an oppotunistic guy. "It's not like a million dollars is going to fall from the sky in a neatly packed briefcase."

"What?"

Techno sighed, "It was worth a shot. Right, dinner I'm afraid will have to wait, I have a teenaged vigilante to catch. You so owe me for this."

Chapter Text

Life had never been particularly fair to Ranboo Belova.

It seemed like some cosmic joke, sometimes, a prank by the universe gone on until it stopped being funny and started being hell for the poor soul chosen to bear the weight of a sadistic April Fool's.

Okay, maybe that was a little bit over-dramatic, but in Ranboo's defense, he had a medical file that filled out an entire paper binder, enough trauma to give a therapist a headache and he was an orphan, so he reckoned he was allowed to be a little dramatic over his terrible life. Whatever angsty middle-schooler had thrown every vaguely tragic circumstance at his life was going to have serious words with him one day. He even looked like a Victorian waif! Since his type of blindness was central, he still had side vision in his peripherals, and it was enough for him to make out the papery skin, knobbly limbs, constantly-squinting pink rabbit eyes, and the mass of curls that stuck up no matter how much hair gel he tried to apply. He looked like he'd blow away in a strong wind, gripping tightly onto his cane and Enderchest's harness. If there was any fairness in the universe, it would've at least made him hot, but apparently that would be too much to ask.

Anyway. That wasn't what he was complaining about today.

Life was never fair to Ranboo, was his point. He should've totally expected to have been bitten by a radioactive spider.

Well technically he didn't know if it was radioactive. It was actually rather unlikely to be so, given that it was stored in a simple glass tank instead of a lead bunker or something. What it was definitely, however, was dangerous. And Ranboo had gotten bit, no more warning than a sharp pain on the side of his hand, followed by a chance glimpse of scuttling legs away from him through his limited vision.

He'd meant to tell someone, he really had! But getting bit would mean at the very least he'd be taken to hospital, and he hated the hospital, mostly because he'd spent a lot of the not-nice parts of his childhood there, and then his foster parents would yell at him for costing them yet more money (he wasn't sure whether or not they actually payed the fees, or if they just didn't want to do the paper work) and then the next few weeks would be hell, with them working him twice as hard to make up for it.

It really impressed him, sometimes, how much work they could find for a blind child with constantly shaking hands to do.

Which lead him to this moment in time, tossing and turning over and over in his bed, sheets tangled, duvet on the floor, sweating more than the brisk wind through his open window could cool.

He'd begun feeling bad before they'd even left Osborne Laboratories, his entire arm aching and heavy, and his head pounding like the drum of an enthusiastic but not particularly talented member of a marching band. He'd managed to beg off chores for that night, and he supposed he must've looked bad, since his foster mom packed him off to bed with a Tylenol and a glass of water without so much as a 'lazy git, thinking he can mooch off us hard working people!'.

He'd slept fitfully for a few hours, tossing and turning as best he could while his arm, and then his shoulders, and finally his entire body burnt, a fever raging through his veins, a headache searing into the back of his eyes in bright sparks of light. Enderchest had sat herself firmly at the side of his bed, his usually cheerful girl whining and pawing him in concern, damp nose nudging into his face in comfort.

As a guide dog, she wasn't medically trained for situations like this, but there was no mistaking the worry in her eyes as he pat her head and hoarsely assured her it would be alright.

At some point, he must've finally fallen asleep, his brain knocking him out to escape the pain, since when he woke up, sunlight was streaming through the open curtains and right onto his face, stinging his eyes awfully.

Ranboo groaned heavily, reaching a trembling hand out to grab his phone. His fingers were shaky as ever, but he was well practiced in not dropping the expensive hunk of plastic onto the hard wooden floor (mostly from experience) and he checked automatically through his messages, squinting sideways at the screen to navigate into his group chat with Tubbo and Tommy, and clicking on the first of the voice messages.

They really were the best friends he'd ever had, since he'd moved schools for the third time a year and a half ago, thoughtful, accepting, and most importantly, did their best to accommodate him without making him feel like a freak.

Technically speaking, Ranboo could use his phone like how it was designed to, between a mix of tilting his head at an awkward angle to view the screen, and the text-to-speech accessibility options that his social worker Jess had helped set up. But it gave him a headache if he tried to look at the screen for too long, and he hated how impersonal the robotic voice of the screen reader was, sucking the life and joy out of the usually buoyant tones of his friends.

The second he'd let that slip to Tommy and Tubbo, however, they'd immediately and apparently without any conversation needed, switched almost entirely to voice messages, and now when Ranboo listened through to their conversations, he could have Tubbo's quiet rambling, or Tommy's boisterous yelling right in his ear, like they were right next to him. It wasn't the most efficient way of communication, sure, but it worked for them, and Ranboo was eternally grateful that he had such thoughtful friends.

As he played through message after message, Ranboo swung his legs out of the side of his bed, sliding his glasses thankfully onto his face to block out the rest of the bright sun, and fumbled for his cane down the side of the bed. As he moved, his back cracked loudly, but not painfully, and the rest of his joints popped in sync-

… Huh.

Thinking about it, as he stretched cautiously up like some pale, bony flower towards the sun, nothing hurt. Not his arm, not his head - not even the nasty bruise he'd gotten yesterday morning after walking into that tree!

And more than that, he wasn't just pain-free, he felt great! Usually his legs shook something awful in the mornings, and he'd be leaning heavily on his cane while getting ready, but he was steady as a rock as he stood up, and he got the sudden feeling that if he tried to do a handstand, he'd have better form than most Olympic gymnasts, which was especially strange because he'd never done a handstand in his life.

There was something thrumming under his skin, something that wanted to run, and leap, and turn flips, and bounce off the walls like some sort of parkour-ist in those Youtube videos Tommy liked to watch.

He bounced a couple of times experimentally on the balls of his feet, and could've sworn he lifted higher than should be feasible with the amount of energy he'd put into it. What the hell was happening to him??

And then he yelped as a wet nose pressed directly into the back of his knee, Enderchest giving him an unimpressed look that clearly said 'yeah, yeah, you're not dying anymore, good for you, now let me out of this damn apartment'.

Ranboo chuckled at her, scritching the top of her head in apology as he went to open his wardrobe to throw on something that wasn't pajamas.

Or at least, that's what he tried to do. Unsuccessfully, if you hadn't guessed. Mainly since the handle of the wardrobe broke off in his hand.

He stood there in shock for a moment, before feeling tentatively along the now handle-less door. There were a few sharp splinters poking out, which he avoided carefully, but nothing to suggest the handle had been coming loose or anything. It was like some great force had snapped it clean off, which was impossible, because Ranboo was the only one who'd touched it, and he struggled to open jars that weren't already loosened.

A thought occurred to him. It wasn't a particularly nice thought.

Quickly prying the wardrobe open and grabbing a towel from the bottom, he placed the round, wooden handle back in his hand, protected this time by the flannel fabric, and gently squeezed his palm shut. Something gave way under his fingers, and much to his equal dismay and reluctant acceptance, when he opened the towel again, only a pile of splinters remained.

This… this wasn't good.

Apparently, sometime in the last few hours, Ranboo had gained super strength.

And he had a sneaking suspicion where he'd gotten that from. A spider shaped sneaking suspicion.

The bite on his arm was painless, now, and only slightly raised when he brushed his hand against it, but it was the only thing he could think of that could've done this. He'd been bitten by a mutant spider, and now he was a mutant too.

Now, you might be wondering, 'hey, why the fuck was he upset over this?? Everyone wants to be a superhero, maybe he can be an Avenger!'.

And if Ranboo had been anyone else, he would have been ecstatic. He could be a superhero! He could fly around the world saving lives and doing good, could be famous and rich and loved by all!

The only problem was, that Ranboo wasn't anyone else. Ranboo was Ranboo, in all his skinny, shaking, blind, feeble glory. People like him weren't superheroes. Imagine if Captain America fell over a dozen times a day because his balance was terrible! Or if Tony Stark couldn't see any of his inventions! Or if Thor dropped Mjolnir every time he fought because his hands constantly shook and his coordination and dexterity was half what it should be!

It should've been Tommy. Tommy would be a great superhero - he always stood up to Dream at school, he knew how to fist fight, he was the kid everyone wanted on their team during Sports class-

His sense of justice was so strong that if he found he had superpowers, he'd be out on the street within the hour, in a costume that he'd made himself, fighting crime and saving lives.

There was no way Ranboo could do this. Maybe- he could hide them? He could learn to control the new powers, he was sure - he'd just have to be careful about not breaking stuff, was all, and then he could go on and live a fairly normal life. It seemed that there might be an accelerated healing factor there too, what with how good he felt and the healed bruises, so maybe his life could even be a little better than before?

He was quiet as he got dressed, but his mind was loud with thoughts, yelling at him from every direction as he took Enderchest out for a morning walk round the block - nothing too strenuous, as she'd be on duty for most of the day once he'd gotten to school, but enough to keep her happy until then.

The rest of the morning went fairly standard for his household - his foster siblings fought, his foster parents yelled, things got thrown and Ranboo ended up having to use his cane to fight his way through to the toaster in order to eat before everyone was finally herded out of the door and towards their respective schools and workplaces.

It was an unspoken agreement that once they were out of the house, none of them would so much as acknowledge the other's existence, and so Ranboo stood on the opposite end of the tube with Enderchest by his feet, tapping nervously against the bar he was clinging onto and trying his best to remember not to clench down. (If anyone asked, the finger-sized dents had been there before). He hated traveling alone, it was stressful as fuck, what with the noise and the lights and the people and the worry that someone was going to step on Enderchest, or he wouldn't hear the announcement for his stop, or he'd get pickpocketed or any number of terrifying things that could easily happen to anyone, but even more to a blind kid.

Eventually, he made it to school in one piece, with an uninjured Enderchest and an un-pickpocket-ed bag, heading straight up the steps of Midtown High to his tutorial classroom.

Tommy and Tubbo were already there, and yelled a greeting at him as he entered, sat in their usual seats right at the back. Enderchest sat quietly against the wall, and he fussed over her for a moment, praising her for her good work getting them safely into the class.

"HEY BITCH BOY!" screamed Tommy directly into his ear, flinging his arms around Ranboo, "GUESS WHAT I HAVE?"

Ranboo winced, shoving the other boy away playfully, "A hearing problem?"

From the corner of his eye, he could see Tommy scowling, "Shut up, Ranboo, yelling is a part of my nature and if you don't let me yell than you're repressing my freedom of speech."

"It's freedom of speech, not freedom of screech." butted in Tubbo from the other side of Tommy, joining in the familiar argument that they had almost every morning, sure as clockwork, "Anyway, what do you have? Is it chlamydia?"

"… I don't know what that is, but no, it's not that. I-" he paused for effect, and Ranboo could hear the smug tone in his voice, "- have a gun."

The response was immediate and instinctual, Ranboo slapping a hand over his mouth, and Tubbo slapping one over Tommy's, shaking him with his free hand.

"One," he hissed lowly, rattling Tommy viciously, "Why the hell do you have a gun? Two, please don't tell me you have it here, and three, don't just declare you have one!!"

Tommy spluttered as he was shook, "Stop- stop shaking me! I don't have it here, I'm not stupid-"

"Debatable." muttered Ranboo, wide eyed beneath his sunglasses.

"And I don't technically have it yet. My dad finally caved and said that when I turn eighteen I can get my gun license!"

There was a collective sigh of relief, mostly because Tommy was fifteen and that was three years into the future, but also because Ranboo was already like eight statistics deep, and he didn't want his ninth to be his final one.

"You're such a dick," Tubbo groaned, "You scared the fuck out of me! Will you ever think before you open your mouth?"

"In order to think, one must possess brain cells," said Ranboo mildly, even though his hands were shaking hard enough that he couldn't even pick up his pencil, "You can have either beauty or brains, not both."

Tommy preened, and then made a squawk of indignation as Ranboo continued, "It's a shame he doesn't have either."

Tubbo snickered, but before Tommy could reply, their homeroom teacher walked in, and they all went silent.

-0-0-0-0-0-

As far as his first day with superpowers went, Ranboo supposed it could've been a whole lot worse.

By that he meant, he could've ended up stuck to a wall within public view, instead of the disabled toilets.

He had no clue what had triggered it, or if there even was a trigger, but one moment he'd been washing his hands in the sink, Enderchest sat in a corner, and the next, he couldn't unstick his hands from the tap handle.

He'd had the good sense, thankfully, not to stick the other hand down alongside it, but unfortunately in the resulting wrestle, while he'd managed to get free of the tap, he'd rolled right over and onto the wall. Was this how a mouse in a glue trap felt? He suddenly had a whole lot more sympathy for them.

All in all, the entire situation had led to a call he'd never thought he'd be making.

He used his nose to dial Tubbo's number, and waited for an endless moment, praying he'd pick up. It was after school hours, now, but only barely, and he hoped that the elder had his phone on hand and hadn't reached the tube yet.

"Ran? Are you okay?"

"Tubbo!" he said, relief colouring his voice, "Uh- have you left school yet?"

"No? Tommy had to stay behind after class and I was waiting for him- are you okay? Did something happen? Should I-"

"Could you- come to the disabled toilets behind the Art building?" Ranboo cut in, ignoring the way his face flushed, "Something- something happened and I need some help. I'm not hurt, it's just- I'm sort of stuck? You might need to bring your lock pick, I can't reach the door."

"Is this…" Tubbo spoke carefully, "A pants on or off sort of 'stuck'?"

"Pants on!" exclaimed Ranboo loudly and far too quickly, all the blood in his body making its way right up to his head, "I'm- I'll explain when you guys get here, just come quickly-"

Tubbo was quiet for a second longer, and Ranboo could've sworn he heard a muffled laugh, "We'll be there in a second, big man, hang in there!"

The next five minutes were the longest of his life. Footsteps echoed down the corridor (he could've sworn that he'd never been able to hear footsteps before, but if he tried to digest more than one superpower at a time he might explode), followed by hushed voices, and then the metal snick of lock picks at work.

Finally, the door swung open, and Ranboo could only assume that Tubbo and Tommy were looking at him in something akin to shock.

"Are you… glued to the wall?"

"… sort of? Just- come in and lock the door, I don't want anyone else to see me like this."

"You know, I always thought my first time locking myself in a bathroom would be with a hot chick," sighed Tommy as they shut the door again, "I can't make out with either of you."

"You could if you weren't a coward."

"Enderchest is a girl, technically."

Ranboo and Tubbo spoke at the same time, and Ranboo could see the mirrored expression of disgust from the corner of his eye.

"Please don't suggest Tommy kissing us."

"Please don't suggest Tommy kissing my dog!"

"I honestly don't know which one is worse," mused the kisser in question, "Like- I don't want to kiss a dog but I'm also not gay."

"I can't believe you're seriously comparing being gay with bestiality at a time like this! One day you're going to get jumped by a six foot six butch lesbian with a baseball bat and I'm going to eat popcorn and cheer her on."

"Can we please get back to, you know, what I asked you to come here for?" asked Ranboo plaintively, waggling his fingers in as much emphasis as he could manage.

Both Tommy and Tubbo jumped, rushing forward again and hesitating just a few inches away from him.

"So uh- what exactly happened?" asked Tubbo, poking cautiously first at the wall, and then at Ranboo's face, "Glue explosion?"

"It's- uh- a long story-"

"Good news is that you're stuck to the wall for the foreseeable future," said Tubbo cheerfully, "So we have time for the long story!"

"I got bit by a mutant spider."

"… I sorta assumed the story would be longer, but that's good to know! Okay so- you got bit by this spider, I'm guessing yesterday at the labs, and now you're turning into a spider?"

"No! I'm not turning into a spider!"

"Are you sure? I can check for extra limbs, mandibles-"

Ranboo bit Tubbo's finger as it went to prod around his mouth, and the brunet yelped, "Okay, okay, no mandibles- but you are stuck to a wall. Anything else happening? When did this start? Can you crawl along the walls?"

"Uh- I have super strength and healing, my balance is way better than normal, I think my senses are slowly getting better? And this started like- ten minutes ago? Also you are taking this way better than I thought you would."

Tubbo snorted, "What, did you think I'd start running in circles and screaming my head off?"

"Oh my god you're the new Spiderman!"

"Tommy, stop fangirling over Ranboo and help me unstick him from this wall, before I push you out of a window again."

As it turned out, however, Tommy didn't even need to come and help, since at that moment, Ranboo made a noise similar to that of a suction cup unsticking, and fell rather comically off the wall and onto the floor, landing on his hands and knees next to Enderchest, who had apparently been watching them in silence.

"Oh good job Ranboo! What did you do?"

"I don't think I did anything… can we finish this conversation somewhere else? My day is going badly enough already, I don't want to be caught in a bathroom stall with you two."

"Yeah, good point, I don't think this school is progressive enough for polyamorous relationships yet."

-0-0-0-0-0-

They ended up hiding away in one of the chemistry labs, specifically the classroom that belonged to Tommy's dad, so they'd have the excuse if anyone walked in on them that they were waiting for him.

Ranboo had filled in the other two on everything that had happened so far today, and was now sitting on the floor with Enderchest on his lap. Tommy and Tubbo were talking quietly about something in one corner, but he focused on the quiet scratching of Tommy's pen on his drawing pad instead, aware that it was likely a private conversation and it wasn't their fault his hearing was slowly enhancing by the minute.

"So-" Tommy finally said, loudly enough for Ranboo to hear, "Have you decided whether you're going to actually be Spiderman or not?"

Ranboo turned to face him, so Tommy could see the incredulous look on his face, "Tommy, why would I do that?? If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a prime candidate for it!"

"Because you have superpowers, duh! Cmon, even if you don't like- fight crime and shit, you have to at least try them out! I can make you a suit and everything, if you give me like a week!"

"What even is there to 'try out'? I can't control when I stick to stuff, apparently, and unless you want me to stand around and see what I can lift, I don't have any other powers. And it's not like I can sling webs like the actual Spiderman can, I remember seeing an interview where he said that he made his web slingers himself, and they weren't actually a part of him. I can't just-" Ranboo flicked his wrists out in the web-slinging motion that he saw every time Spiderman was on the news.

And then froze, because what the holy fuck did you mean webs just came out of his wrists.

"You know," said Tubbo thoughtfully, "I'm really starting to wonder whether or not our words influence the world around us. It seems like every time one of us says 'this thing will never happen', it happens immediately afterwards. Kinda cool, but also please no one talk about nuclear war or something, because if you jinx us to extinction I will find a window to throw you from in the apocalypse."

"HOLY SHIT DUDE! DID YOU SEE THAT?"

"I don't think he saw anything, Tommy, unless his new powers enhance the melanin in his eyes as well? Also I think that might have actually broken him, he's just sorta staring at his wrists."

Ranboo thumbed carefully along his pulse point, shuddering as he felt a tiny hole flutter under his touch. This was- this was insane-

"Tommy," he said in an odd sort of voice, "If you could like- make up some sort of mask quickly, I think I'd like to see what I can do."

"Not to burst your bubble, but are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Tubbo cautiously, "You don't sound right, Boo, and I don't think any of us were thinking of swinging off buildings when we suggested trying out your powers-"

Ranboo gave him a bright smile, as a certainty settled in his heart - a certainty that if he jumped, he would be caught, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Tubbo. I think my Spidey sense just kicked in!"

"If you get yourself killed-"

"I'll find a window in the afterlife to hurl myself out of on your behalf."

"Then let's do it."

Chapter Text

Techno watched with an expression halfway between amazement and consternation as the small figure leapt and swung between buildings like it was the most natural thing in the world. Every time they almost missed a jump, or waited a little too long for comfort to catch themself, his heart leapt to his throat, and he barely resisted the urge to swing down and grab the menace before they splatted onto the concrete.

Was this how Phil felt when he did this?? God, he so owed him an apology-

Techno almost fell off the ledge with how hard he flinched as the kid somehow seemed to miss the presence of a billboard entirely and slammed face first into it, spread eagling comedically as he slid down.

Make that multiple owed apologies.

He watched tensely for a moment, shoulders drooping with relief as the kid pried himself off with painful-looking slowness, scaling the side of the building and rolling over the edge to presumably flop lifelessly onto the rooftop.

Once he was sure that the kid had stopped (look, it had been a long day and he really didn't want to go on a wild goose chase across the city with someone half his age and twice his energy levels), Techno tugged his mask back over his face, feeling the sensors lock into place and hearing the faintest whirr of the mirroring technology that powered the expressive facial features- and then he jumped.

There was the usual jolt of his joints as he hit the base of his swing, slingers pulling him up again while his bones made their official complaints to his nerves that they would go on strike if they weren't fairly compensated. Maybe he should see a chiropractor or something, just to work some of the stiffness out? There wasn't anything seriously wrong, he was just sore.

It took less than a minute to reach the building that the kid had landed on, and he could already hear faint mumbles and pained groans as he slowed to a stop a rooftop across. The last thing he wanted was to startle them before he got a chance to give the 'great power comes with great responsibility, blah blah blah, please don't kill yourself doing this' speech. Maybe he could work something in about Icarus and trying to fly too high without the right equipment? Yeah, Icarus worked well enough here, even if the kid was swinging rather than flying.

Actually- that was a great point to bring up. Techno had spent weeks developing his first web slingers in a friend's garage, and those had barely functioned as it was - the ones he had now were Stark-Tech, because he had to admit that of all the things he despised Tony Stark for (weapons production, supporting governments, that stupid goateee thing-) the reliability of his tech wasn't one of them. That didn't mean he accepted just anything, of course - he'd stolen these slingers, since he made a point to refuse all of the suits and weapons Stark had tried to supply him with when he'd made that truce with the Avengers. He'd gotten Phil to sand off the Stark logo on the side and remove the tracking device, and now took great joy in denying all charges of theft while clearly using something that Stark had designed personally, and therefore knew without a shadow of a doubt was his tech.

The moral of this story was that robbery was okay if you were stealing from the obscenely rich and obnoxious.

Anyway- he'd gotten off track there- what had he been saying? Oh right! That the kid had somehow developed slingers in less than a day, that functioned almost as well as his own did. Was he a tech genius? Had Stark somehow gotten his hands on him already and had recruited him to be a child soldier? Was Phil wrong about him being young and he was secretly a really small adult with access to high-tech weapons??

The kid didn't seem to notice Techno, who was now standing awkwardly on the opposite end of the rooftop, wringing his hands and debating whether taking his mask off would make the kid more or less comfortable. His face wasn't scary or anything, but he got told fairly frequently that he had a 'resting murder face', and most of his friends admitted that they thought he hated them at first, because he'd just sit and silently glare.

He was even smaller than Techno had first thought, (although to be fair when one was six foot six and built like a depressed tank, everyone was small), and hunched over a beaten-up iPhone, hissing at someone on the other end, who seemed to be hysterically laughing and nothing else.

He should- announce his presence, right? He should do that. Just- call out across the rooftop, say hi, introduce himself. But he'd been standing here for a few minutes already, what if that was awkward now! He'd anticipated being noticed the second that he'd landed, his plans hadn't included trying to get the kid's attention!

Should he clear his throat? No, that was something a super villain would do. Just suck it up and say hello? Maybe he should go back down and come up again a little closer, this time making more noise so the kid saw him coming? God, maybe Phil was right - he needed to get out and talk to more people, his anxiety shouldn't be this crippling over a teenager. Techno's sole defense was that the only experience he had with children persona was Wilbur, Kristen's kid, who usually just sat and stared in judgmental silence and once asked him about whether he'd ever considered that anteaters were plotting world domination.

Techno, for the record, had not considered that.

Oh god how long had he been standing here now? Five minutes? Six? He was being weird, he was being so weird, he was staring at a teenager on a rooftop who was now cursing out someone called 'Tubbo', who had apparently not stopped laughing.

"Hey."

Techno fought the urge to screech, what the fuck was that? He didn't talk like that! His voice was deep, but not that deep - did he just have to keep it up for the rest of this conversation now? Pretend that it didn't happen? Try and-

Of all the things he'd been expecting to happen, the kid screaming at the top of their lungs and falling off the edge of the building had not been it. Why hadn't he considered that happening?? That was a perfectly reasonable response, Techno had used it many times over his career-

On the bright side, it gave him a legitimate reason to rush forward and peer over the edge of the building, trying to see whether the kid had caught themself or plummeted to their untimely death. He was glad to see that they were stuck firmly to the side of the building - 'Spiderman pushes innocent child off roof!' really wasn't a headline he wanted to see anytime soon.

"Hey kid?" he asked cautiously, thankful to find that his voice had returned to usual, "It's okay- I'm not gonna hurt you, I just want to talk. Can you climb back up the side or do you want a hand?"

He was relieved that the kid didn't immediately fling themself away - whether that was because they forgot that they could now do that, or whether their Spidey sense (did the kid even have a Spidey sense yet? He couldn't remember how long it took his to kick in) told them it was safe.

"Oh my god you're the Spiderman-"

"One, thank you for remembering the 'The', it's very important, and two- your observational skills are unmatched, truly."

"I didn't mean to steal your brand, dude, I swear- please don't arrest me."

"Three, it's chill, everyone steals my brand cause they're nerds and I don't actually own the copyright anymore, Stark bought it when he did all the Avengers brand deals, I get a cut of the royalties once a month and he couldn't care less if a kid was running around in a crappy mask. And four- how would I arrest you?? I'm not a cop, mostly because they'd never let me in with all the times I've said on live television that I hate cops, and arresting people involves paperwork, and I'd much rather tie criminals up with webs and dangle them from a lamppost than do paperwork." Techno paused, "I'm not going to do that to you. By the way. I want to help, kid, it's not as easy being a mutant vigilante as you'd think."

He got the distinct impression that he was being side eyed hard underneath the mask, but there was something else about how the kid was moving that was… wrong. He couldn't quite place it, but the way he had his head tilted seemed off. Oh god, please say he hadn't broken his neck, if Techno had to take him to the hospital, Niki was guaranteed to appear from thin air like an angel of death to yell at him about his stress levels. The woman was like a sister to him, but much like a sister he was also too scared to see her more than twice a year.

"… Alright. I'll talk." the kid put his hands on his hips (Techno was pretty sure he was a he, at least), in what Techno presumed was meant to be a 'tough guy' stance. It would've been more effective if he'd been taller than 5"3.

"Do… you wanna come up, then?"

"Nope. I'm perfectly content to have this conversation right here."

"You know I heard your normal voice earlier, right? You don't have to put the deep one on."

"This is my normal voice."

"No it's not."

"It so is."

"It's not!"

"Well you did it earlier!"

"You're making me nervous by standing on the edge like that, just come up and sit down with me."

"Well what if I don't want to do that?"

"… are you stuck like that?"

"If I hypothetically was, which I'm not, how exactly would one unstick from a brick wall."

Techno sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Just- okay, I'm gonna reach down to grab your hand, then I want you to relax every muscle in your body and close your eyes. You should unstick naturally and I'll hoist you up."

"What if you drop me though!"

"I won't drop you! I've been doing this for years and you look like you're built out of polystyrene!"

"But-"

"Stop arguing and grab my hand."

Much to Techno's relief, when he leaned over the ledge fully, relying on his own stickiness to hold on, the kid grabbed his hand immediately, clinging on with enough strength to makethe bones in his fingers creak.

"Right," winced Techno, "I've got you, kid, now relax. Try and focus on each individual muscle, tense it, and then relax it entirely. Don't worry about falling-"

"That's the worst possible thing to say to someone whose currently worried about falling."

"Yeah well- there's a reason I'm not an emergency responder, my job is usually throwing bad guys around and stopping little old ladies from getting mugged. There's the occasional alien invasion or rampant mutant but usually- woah I've got you, don't wiggle, up we go-!"

Techno levered the kid easily over the ledge, not letting go until they were a few paces back and on firm ground.

He'd been right - the kid was tiny, barely reaching chest level, and built like a piece of spaghetti that grew arms. He'd grow, right? Kids grew all the time! Techno had grown once he'd gotten bitten as well - he went from being a respectable 6"2 to being 6"6 in the span of thankfully a few years, and while the super strength had been one of the first things to appear, the bulk had built more naturally, so he'd managed to avoid the steroid allegations.

"Woah you're way bigger than you look on the news- oh god that's awful of me to say, I'm so sorry Mr Spiderman, I-"

In the span of a heartbeat, the kid seemed to remember that he was supposed to be terrified, and leapt back again, thankfully this time not over the edge of a building. Techno skipped back too on instinct, before he corralled himself to hold strong.

"Hey- hey, don't run again, yeah kid? Like I said, I want to talk to you. You're a new mutant, I remember how confusing and painful the first months were too, and I'm pretty uniquely suited to helping with this particular power."

"I- okay this is gonna sound like a stupid question-"

"I'm a master of stupid questions, ask my roommate."

"Why aren't you freaking out more? Like- I'm glad you're not freaking out or trying to throw me off a building or something, but- if I was Spiderman and I realised that someone else also gotten bitten by the same radioactive spider, I'd be losing my mind."

"I mean, for one, it's not the same spider - Sharon died years ago, spiders don't live all that long."

"… I don't know whether to question the fact that you know the spider who bit you personally or the fact you named her Sharon first."

"That's- that's a fair point, but it's also a long story which should probably wait for another day when it's not freezing cold. I can hear your teeth chattering, kid."

"I'm not a kid! And I'm not cold!"

It was strange, the way that the kid wasn't looking him the eye. Really, really strange. He had his head tilted all the way to the side, facing off the edge of the building, but he was definitely looking at Techno, just in- the weirdest possible angle. Surely it must give him a headache to do that all the time-

"I've lost count of what point I'm on, it's something like eleven now, but you're definitely cold and definitely a child. If you want me to call you something else, you can tell me your name or-"

"It's Ranboo."

"… I was gonna say or give me your alias, but that works too. I'm Techno, nice to meet you."

"That's an- interesting name."

"So is 'Ranboo'," countered Techno, although it was hardly a new point to be brought up to him. He was well aware his name was weird, his parents hadn't been the smartest bunnies in the bunch and had thought it sounded cool.

"I'm Russian."

"It's still a weird name and- I'm fairly certain it's not even Russian?"

The kid made a surprised noise, "That usually works on people- no one's argued it before! My Mom tried to name me Rainbow, but my Dad's dyslexic."

"That- sounds plausible, but I've met people with weirder names so I wasn't planning on questioning it anyway. Also- how old are you? Just- you're very short and even though you're not acting like a nine year old, trauma does wonders for your maturity."

"I'm very traumatised, but I'm also fifteen, not nine."

"Okay! That's good! Well- not good that you're fifteen, that sucks for you, being a teenager was awful and also-" Techno gestured vaguely towards Ranboo, who had taken a seat on the ledge and curled up into a ball, clearly frozen half to death in his hoodie and sweatpants, "-all of this, but it's good that you're not nine."

"Has anyone ever told you that you babble a lot when you're nervous?"

"Frequently. Also- I am getting increasingly both more concerned over how cold you are and feeling more and more responsible over you since my stupid husband is the entire reason this is happening."

"Wait- wait- your husband caused this? How? Did he send the spider after me?"

Techno sighed, "This is part of the long story I mentioned earlier. Just- okay, we're at the very least going to have to shift this conversation somewhere warmer, if you get frostbite than I'm probably going to have to explain to your parents why a strange grown man is carrying you to the hospital and I hate talking to people's parents. And people in general. Also my own parents but that's not the point."

"Okay, maybe I'm a little co- oh fuck!" Ranboo squawked, as the phone still clutched in his hands vibrated harshly at him. His shoulders hunched inwards, almost self conscious as he- lifted the phone to the side of his face? Okay- Techno was beyond curious and well into the realm of heavily concerned. Was he dealing with some sort of head injury? Brain trauma? What was up with this kid??

"Who was that?" he asked cautiously.

"Uh- I'm ignoring all the missed calls from Tommy and Tubbo because they'll want an entire rundown of the situation, but that was my fos- my mom, yeah that was my mom, I was supposed to be home like half an hour ago, she's going to kill me-"

"Hey wait! Don't run off just yet, I need some way to find you again, kid - I meant what I said, I'm not letting you deal with this on your own." Techno floundered for a moment, "Uh- if I give you my number, do you promise not to block me?"

"You know-" said Ranboo thoughtfully, "I think you're the only person I've ever met who is more socially awkward than I am! It's kinda nice, actually! And also- dude, you're the Spiderman! I'm gonna get the Spiderman's number! Of course I'm not gonna block you! If we meet up again, can I bring my friends? That's Tommy and Tubbo, by the way, they're my men in the chairs. That sounds wrong in the plural. My double man in the chair? Two men in one chair? Either way- they're so gonna want to come talk to you too, and I'd rather know now whether I can bring them along so I can either get Tubbo to sedate Tommy or get him to behave himself."

"Uh- I mean- I guess you could? I might have to bring Phil, then- my roommate. And husband. He's both. But not a romantic husband. Which you don't need to know because you're fourteen-"

"Fifteen!"

"- and it's none of your business. Sure, you can bring your friends, but tell them- that they're not gonna meet Spiderman, okay? They're gonna be meeting Techno. So- no autographs and if anyone starts fangirling-"

"I will control Tommy, I swear."

"Thanks kid. Right- are you ready for my number? It's-"

"Actually- would you mind putting it in my contacts? And make sure your name is 'Techno' so I can find you later. It'll take too long to sort it out with my screen reader otherwise."

Techno paused, even as he took the phone and carefully started inputting his number, "Screen reader? And what do you mean it'll take too long, kid? Is this about- the thing you do with your head? The way you held your phone up to the side of your face?"

Ranboo stiffened slightly, and for a second, stopped breathing entirely.

"Oh that's- that- I- I didn't realise I didn't mention it earlier, I'm used to people realising immediately- though I guess I don't have Enderchest or my cane or anything-"

"Enderchest? Cane?"

"Yeah, she's my guide dog, I'm- I'm blind, Techno. Or partially at least. I have almost 20/20 peripheral vision, it's just the central bit that's blacked out…"

Techno just stared at him. And for once, he wasn't embarrassed about how uncomfortably long the stare lasted. He was very much justified to stare here.

"You're blind?" he finally managed - yes, very eloquent he was aware, but hell- he'd just seen the kid swing across half the city! Of all the things he'd guessed, blind was not one of them.

He knew he'd fucked up, though, the second that Ranboo hunched in on himself, looking down, "Yeah. Last time I checked. Sorry."

"Nono- Ranboo don't be sorry, I didn't realise, was all. I don't- I don't think less of you, or anything, it's just good to know, so I can-"

"Pity me? I don't need pity. I know how stupid this! I'm the worst mutant ever, this sucks! I'm- I'm gonna go home now. It's time for Enderchest's night walk."

If Techno had been the sort of person to swear, he would've been cursing loud enough for half the block to hear. He hadn't meant to make Ranboo think he was pitying him-

"Ranboo-"

To his horror, the kid's shoulders shook once, then twice, and his voice was thick when he next spoke. "It was nice to meet you, Techno, I- I get if you don't want to tutor me or anything, I'm a liability…" He turned, then, and went to leap off the edge of the building and back into the darkness.

Techno shot on instinct, a web slinging out to catch the edge of his sleeve. Ranboo jolted, tugging away automatically to no avail.

"Ranboo." he said again, softer this time, "I still want to- well, not tutor, because tutor implies I know what I'm doing, and I can't emphasise how much of this whole thing is improvisation and using my 'Superhero' voice on people. But I want to help. I don't think you're a liability - I was more worried about the fact you're a kid then I ever was about you being blind. You clearly have- some sort of thing that means you didn't splat while swinging across the city earlier, it was extremely impressive for a first go - it took me thirty seconds rather than thirty minutes to hit a billboard the first time I got into the sky. This is something we work around rather than against. My best friend, Phil, is deaf - he got cochlear implants a few years ago, and had hearing aids before that, but I learnt sign language to communicate better with him when he doesn't want to or can't use them. I never once considered it a liability - he's my guy in the chair, my life rests in his hands sometimes, when I'm in a fight and need his eyes. I- I'm gonna be honest I completely lost track of the point I was making here, but I'm gonna help you with or without sight. Alright? Let me just- unstick you quickly, sorry about that, webbing you was the first thing I thought of, but you need to go home. Text me when you're home, and then we can work out a time and place to meet?"

Ranboo was silent for a moment longer, before his shoulders drooped a little, "… okay. I'll do that. Yeah- uh- unweb me please."

Techno tried his best to keep a safe distance while also detaching the web from the fabric of Ranboo's hoodie, and eventually the boy was freed, head tilted down as he looked over the edge of the building.

"… thank you Techno. I'll see you soon." He paused a moment longer, like he had something else he wanted to say, but shook his head imperceptibly, and then he was gone, swinging neatly across the building.

Techno sighed to himself. Of all the conversations he'd ever had, while the success rate of this one didn't fall into the top ten, it also wasn't in the bottom ten, so he didn't count it as a complete failure.

Fumbling with his comm, he finally managed to find Phil's contact again.

"Okay- I have good news and bad news."

"I know the bad news already," said Phil glumly, "The Italian place has already closed."

"… I have two bits of bad news."

Chapter Text

If you'd told Ranboo a week ago that he'd soon be travelling to some old guy's house who he met on a random rooftop, he'd- probably have nodded politely and then put the encounter out of his mind, since it wasn't exactly rare to meet a crazy in the streets of New York.

He most certainly wouldn't have believed it, however.

And yet here he was, having got up early on a Saturday morning to catch a tube with Tommy and Tubbo (who'd both insisted on coming as he'd suspected), to go do exactly that.

Enderchest sat firmly on his feet, and he could feel the reproachful look she was giving him. She hadn't been happy about being left alone last night, and had gone to sleep on his legs as if to prevent him leaving again. He'd briefly considered leaving her at the apartment - Tubbo was a good verbal navigator, and Tommy had sharp elbows to get them through crowds - but he'd almost tripped over her when he'd tried to leave without picking up her harness, and he'd taken the hint.

Considering that yesterday, he'd literally flung himself across the city (and into a few walls) he was in remarkably good shape - his usual limit when it came to exercise was light participation in gym, and sitting out anything that was strenuous or needed group participation. He definitely had super healing now, since he could, you know, still walk and everything, but it seemed that his healing didn't extend to casual exertion. Maybe there was a difference between what it could fix? He had been exhausted by the time he'd gotten home yesterday, but it had been a mental tiredness rather than his limbs shutting down entirely.

He'd have to test it later.

"Dude- I still can't believe we're going to meet The Spi-"

From the muffled cry and the thud of flesh on flesh, Ranboo assumed that Tubbo had slapped his hand over Tommy's mouth.

"Tom, I swear to god if you keep talking about it, the only person you'll be seeing is Jesus at the gates of heaven."

Tommy made another muffled sound, before Tubbo jumped back with a yelp.

"Ew! He licked me!"

Ranboo stifled a snort, trying to pull up his best sympathetic face, "Maybe he's just considering a new career as a cannibal."

"If I was, I wouldn't eat Tubbo, he's a guy!"

"Guys, is it gay to be a cannibal?"

Tubbo laughed aloud then, while Tommy protested that Ranboo made everything he said sound worse. Ranboo felt no remorse - if Tommy didn't want to be made fun of, he should learn to filter things before they reached his mouth.

"I hate you both," the blonde grumbled, "Where's our stop anyway?"

"I see your blatant redirection attempts, but it's the next one along," Tubbo answered, leaning his head against Ranboo's shoulder, "I have directions on my phone to the address."

"If I were Spi- If I were him-" Tommy hastily recovered, "I would totally live in the Avengers Compound instead of in town - think how cool it would be! Plus you get to live with a whole bunch of other cool people!"

"He probably has personal reasons why he doesn't want to move. He's meant to be the local, friendly superhero, right? Can't be local if he lives out of town," reasoned Ranboo, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

"Maybe the Avengers are homophobic and won't let him live there with his husband," added Tubbo in a very-reasonable tone completely at odds with what he was saying.

Ranboo raised an eyebrow, "I saw in an interview a while back that Captain America, the White Wolf and the Falcon are all dating, so it would be a bit hypocritical of them to be homophobic."

"You said that Techno clarified that they were platonic husbands, so maybe they're homophobic specifically when there's no romance involved?"

Ranboo rolled his eyes, although it went unseen beneath his glasses - he loved his friend, but Tubbo enjoyed arguing for the sake of arguing, and they would just go in circles for the next hour if he let them.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever man - we should be stopping any moment, help me get Enderchest up."

Enderchest needed no help whatsoever, of course - she was on duty and therefore an utmost professional, but it gave an excuse for the three of them to make their way to the doors just as they pulled up to the station, Ranboo accepting Tubbo's offered hand as he hopped down the ledge onto the platform. It wasn't too busy, thankfully, and it wasn't long before they were out into the sunshine, Tubbo leading the way with google maps on hand.

Ranboo couldn't help but note that the area was far more run down than he'd expected - not a bad area of town, exactly, but also not the sort of place to have the shining glass penthouses one would think of when considering a superhero's residence.

"Do you think the elevator will work?" he muttered to Tommy, "I don't think I can do stairs today…"

"I'll give you a piggy back if you need," replied Tommy assertively, "You weigh like- barely more than a sack of potatoes."

"Wow," said Ranboo dryly, "Thanks for the compliment. I'll take the piggy back though, as long as Tubbo records so I can share the video of you huffing and puffing with all-"

"Okay I think this is it!" announced Tubbo, coming to an abrupt halt on the pavement, Ranboo only avoiding running into him thanks to Enderchest's quick thinking, and Tommy not being as fortunate.

While the other started to squabble, Tubbo shoving Tommy back in return, the blonde squawking indignantly, Ranboo turned his head to the side and squinted to read down the list of names on the doorbell. Techno had said they were near the top, so-

There! 'Craft and Blade' read the label, and Ranboo made sure he his fingertip was making proper contact with the button before he pressed the bell firmly, three times in quick succession. It only took a few seconds for the door to buzz and the lock to click, and then the three of them were inside.

Ranboo was relieved to see that the elevator was in fact working, even if it clunked alarmingly as the four of them stepped inside.

"What floor was it again?"

"Uh- seven, I think," Ranboo replied, tapping nervously on his leg, "Okay- you guys have to promise to be cool, okay?"

"Bitch, I'm always cool! Big man Tommy, innit? Cool's basically my middle name, Tommy Danger Cool Careful Kraken-"

"That's what I mean- Tommy I love you but please let me do the talking for the first bit, I don't want to scare them off."

Tommy snorted, "If a teenager scares the Spiderman, I think we have bigger issues, Big B."

"… my name doesn't even start with a B?"

"Yeah but- Big R sounds wrong, and Boo's a nickname for Ranboo, right? Big B!"

Ranboo sighed, but before he could respond, the elevator bell rang to indicate their floor, and his heart made yet another escape attempt out his throat.

"Well- I uh- I guess that's us."

None of them moved, suddenly filled with the same nervous energy of what the fuck were they doing?

"So like- we're sure it's actually Spiderman, right? And not some serial killer with a good cosplay?" asked Tubbo, sounding oddly small.

Ranboo nodded far more confidently than he felt (which was a low bar to hit), "My- my spidey sense would've gone off if it a fake, right? And he felt like Spiderman- it's hard to explain- but- ah!"

Enderchest, it seemed, had gotten sick of Ranboo's dithering, and suddenly tugged on her harness, pulling him out into the corridor properly.

He laughed nervously, turning back to face his friends, "End'usually knows if something's wrong before I do, so- we should probably go, they're expecting us."

And expecting they were.

No sooner had the three of them turned the corner, Enderchest taking charge, was a familiar voice echoing down the corridor.

"Ah! It's okay, Phil, they're here-" Techno's voice was muffled, like he'd turned away from them, before sharpening quickly as he approached, "Hullo Ranboo and- assorted children."

"Hey! I'm not a child!" bristled Tommy, "I'm fifteen!"

Ranboo wanted to sink through the floor - why did Tommy insist on picking fights everywhere they went?

Techno was silent a moment, before Ranboo caught a vague motion out of the corner of his eyes that might have been a shrug, "Alright. Assorted teenagers. Do you uh- wanna come in? I think Phil's making tea…"

Techno stood awkwardly for a moment, before he seemed to realise he was blocking the door, and stepped neatly inside, ducking his head through the frame. He somehow seemed even bigger than he had the night before, although then again Ranboo had been panicking a little too hard to focus on details like that. Speaking of details-

Techno didn't have his mask on today, and for the first time, Ranboo saw the shock of pink hair from the top of the man's head - tilting his head just right, he managed to get the whole of Techno in his peripheral, and somehow shrunk down even smaller. He was… intimidating.

Somehow, the pink hair only served to make him more tough, a salmon-leaning pink giving way to dark roots right at the top of his fairly long hair, which was currently braided back neatly. His expression seemed cold, at odds with the awkward way he spoke, and he walked with an odd cadence, like he was trying to keep weight off every joint at once.

The four of them shuffled in uncharacteristic silence through the small apartment - nice enough, fairly cozy, and lit with soft yellow lights to make up for the lack of windows, but far from what Ranboo had expected. There was a loud whirring and bubbling from the direction of the kitchen, which he identified as a kettle boiling, which was strange only in that most Americans didn't have a kettle…

He got the answer to this only a few seconds later, as a soft British voice rang out through the room, still with a discernible… Northern accent? He was pretty such that was Northern.

"I've put the kettle on- was that a yes to the tea? My mam always used to say that tea was the salve for any sore conversation," came the cheery voice of what Ranboo could only assume was Techno's husband.

The three boys found themselves ushered onto a fairly small couch, wedged in close together, with Ranboo in the middle and Enderchest at his feet, caught in the headlights of Phil's request.

"Uh- no thank you," he said, not particularly wanting to risk spilling boiling water all over himself at a stranger's house. Tubbo echoed a similar refusal, but Tommy accepted, the British side of him clearly having recognised it's like. Tommy had spent most of his life in America, having moved when he was in first grade, but still held his accent and apparently, his tea-drinking ways. Tommy's parents had been horrified to learn that Ranboo only drank sweet tea and occasionally dunked a tea bag in microwaved water, which was the only reason he knew about kettles to begin with.

Phil bustled back out into the kitchen, while Techno settled somewhere across from them, scratching idly against the fabric. Ranboo was very grateful that his enhanced hearing didn't automatically make everything loud - he could hear just about anything if he focused, but otherwise it stayed as slightly-louder-than-normal background noise.

"So uh- we should probably wait until Phil's back to start properly," Techno said, breaking the awkward silence, "But I'm Techno, it's uh- nice to meet you. Or meet you again for Ranboo."

Oh that was right- Ranboo probably ought to have introduced them-

"Uh- this is Tommy and this is Tubbo," he explained, pointing to them in turn, "And this is Enderchest, my guide dog."

There was a moment's silence, before Techno blurted out- "Right, sorry, you can't see when I nod- uh- I was nodding. For reference. I-"

Thankfully, the painstaking conversation was broken by footsteps returning, Phil bustling back in with a tray of clinking china. Next to him, Tommy accepted his mug with a satisfied sigh, sniffing the tea to- restore himself? Ranboo didn't know what British people used to charge, okay? For all he knew, Tommy took a bath in tea every night and prayed to the Queen.

"Finally," his friend grumbled, "Some good fucking tea. This American bullshit was getting on my nerves."

"Tommy you are American," pointed out Tubbo, "Just because your parents signed you up for voice lessons so you didn't lose your accent-"

"Tuberculosis Schlatt, I refuse to forget my homeland! I will never submit to the tyrannical rule of-"

"Oh are you British too?"

"Is your name really Tuberculosis?"

Phil and Techno spoke at the same time, one of them snorting.

"Tommy is technically British," Ranboo cut in, "And no, it's Tobias because Tubbo's dad is a coward."

"A rich coward, though, so he makes up for it by funding my lavish and excessive lifestyle."

This was going splendidly so far.

"I see." Techno said, sounding bewildered and out of his depths, "Well it's nice to meet you- no wait I've done this bit already. Uh- okay we've done the introductions, offered refreshments and now it's… oh! Right, you're the new Spiderman-"

"It's so cool, right?" Tommy said, a grin audible in his voice, "Did you see his mask yesterday? I made that for him! In like ten minutes cause he was being impatient. I'm gonna make the rest of his suit too, cause I'm really good at sewing. Did Tony Stark make your suit? Is it just fabric? How are the computers integrated into it? Is Boo gonna get to meet Tony Stark? Is he gonna meet the Avengers? Why don't you guys live with them? Are you-"

Ranboo yelped as Tubbo launched himself across his lap to tackle Tommy, enraged yells muffled through his palm.

"Don't mind him!" Tubbo yelled cheerfully over the violence, "He doesn't have a mute button, I'm afraid, we've been trying for years."

Ranboo groaned, dropping his face into his hands. Techno was gonna kick them out any second, now, he'd wanted peace and tact and instead Ranboo had brought them Tommy-

But much to his surprise, instead of immediately exploding, Techno and Phil… started to laugh?

"It's alright mate-" Phil said through a cackle, "My lab interns behave worse when I make the mistake of giving them caffeine- you can let him go, I'll answer the questions."

Ranboo groaned again as Tubbo jabbed an elbow into his stomach on the way back, Tommy shaking himself like a dog in the rain.

"I can't believe you two-" he started, clutching his stomach, "Oh my god-"

Enderchest gave him a sympathetic nudge, her damp nose hitting the side of his leg.

"Did you see that? I was viciously and brutally attacked!" Tommy declared, running a hand through his blonde curls, "I think we should overthrow Tubbo's dictatorship and elope, Ranboob."

"One, I don't think you know what elopement means, two, I think you need a country to be a dictator, three, if Tubbo was a dictator I'd side with him and be his first lady."

"Are you three like this all the time or is this reserved for special occassions?" Phil asked mildly, sounding absolutely fascinated.

"All the time."

"Special occasions."

"What are you, a cop?"

Phil snickered again. Techno sighed heavily. "Don't encourage the children, please, Phil. Sorry- the assorted teenagers. I'm going to redirect the conversation now because I'm worried one of you is about to declare war."

Yeah that was fair.

"You don't have to answer any of Tommy's questions," Ranboo assured Techno, fiddling with his hoodie string, "He's a lot."

"A lot of fabulousness."

"It's alright mate!" Phil chimed in, "I'm happy to answer anything he wants to know, Techno is the antisocial one here."

"How are you antisocial and also the Spiderman?" Tubbo asked curiously, "You're usually nice on the news reports."

"That's what we call a work-persona," Techno said dryly, "Acting nice with the reporters means that they're more inclined to report about me saving little old ladies than the times I've failed."

Ranboo nodded wisely, wishing he could take notes or something to act more professional, "Will uh- I have to do that? I don't want to be an Avenger or anything…"

"I mean it depends, really, kid. No one's expecting you to be the next Spiderman, I've still got a few years left in the tank and there's always someone else to fill the shoes. You don't have to go public at all if you don't want to. And I'd really advise against signing anything, there's a reason I stay away from Stark's lot, and it's not because they don't want me."

"They want him so much it's kinda funny, actually," Phil snorted, "We get bribery checks every few months and SHIELD agents pretend to be repairmen at least bi-annually. We work with the Avengers occasionally on bigger projects as freelancers, but we keep our distance. Even when Captain America turns up in our kitchen with his serious voice and mission folders." Phil gave a dreamy sigh, "The muscles almost get me every time but then I remember the concept of capitalism or Techno starts loudly reciting wedding vows."

"Maybe I wouldn't do that if you didn't threaten to run away with Steve Rogers once a month."

"The muscles, Techno, its the muscles."

Ranboo was feeling increasingly bewildered.

"So uh- I don't have to publicly be Spiderman?" he doubled checked.

"Nope, not at all. Or have to talk to the Avengers. They'll probably know soon if they don't already - Stark has an annoying habit of having thorough surveillance - but I'll make it clear you're under my protection and they'll leave you alone. Just don't sign anything and you'll be fine, kid."

That- really wasn't as reassuring as Techno probably thought it was, but he supposed free advice didn't have to be good advice. Although he certainly wouldn't be signing anything, especially without a trusted reader to get all the fine print.

"So what about the other questions?" Tommy burst out impatiently, "What about you? Why do you and Boo have different powers? How did you get bit? And also- Phil you're getting suspiciously familiar, big man, where have I seen you before?"

"To answer in order," Phil said, "I, alongside a friend of mine, make Techno's suit. We stole a bunch of Stark-Tech a while back and it's got a great interface. We don't live with the Avengers because we like our freedom. Techno and Ranboo have different powers because they were bitten by different spiders, and I am the head of my department at Osbourne Laboratories, because everyone is too scared of the spiders I work with to check that I'm not violating OSHA regulations. Which, to clarify, I don't usually, and I have no idea how Shelby escaped, nor how she returned herself to the cage afterwards. She's currently on lockdown until I've figured it out, but I could swear she flipped me off this morning, so my running theory is that she's developed sentience."

"Phil I swear to god if you've developed sentient spiders we're getting divorced."

"If you divorce me, Steve Rogers has my personal number."

"I literally hate you."

Ranboo thought that a better question would be whether they acted like this all the time. Also why all the spiders were named like middle aged women.

"That's so cool!" Tubbo exclaimed, "I want to visit!"

"Absolutely not, one spider child is enough."

Tubbo's pout was audible, "Awhh. Pretty please? I've only exploded the labs at school once and all the footage disappeared so you have no proof of that."

"We have verbal evidence and also that's not more likely to get me to relent." Phil pointed out mildly, "If you want, I'll give you some basic training on how best to help Ranboo. I've collected a lot of 'how to convince your spider-themed vigilante not to break his ankles falling off things' tips, I'm probably the most uniquely suited person to help you on this."

"Can I come too? Pretty please say I can, I want to make all his suits and help Boo too! I've never exploded a lab Mr Phil!"

"I mean you're both in the same position, I don't see why I can't teach you both. We'll have to come up with something official, though - maybe a coding club? I can code pretty well…"

"I mean- my Dad doesn't really care what I do, and I can always say that Tommy is hanging out with me."

"I'd really prefer to do this the proper way, boys - it was irresponsible of us to meet like this anyway, and I would be teaching you some code during this. I'll meet your parents and everything if they want."

Ranboo scrunched his nose - he'd never met an adult who wanted to do things the more complicated way. Not even his social workers most of the time - they wanted the issue swept under the rug as soon as possible and if a few bits of paperwork got lost then it really wasn't that big of a deal.

"And uh- what about me?" he asked, quieter than he'd meant to, "Is Techno still going to tutor me?"

"Yeah, I've cleared it with a couple of other vigilantes in the area to take my patrol," Techno said, "I've now got my afternoons and evenings free to train you up. You should be good to stick with the coding alias, but there's a rooftop a couple blocks across that I like to use for friendly sparring and we'll stay there mostly."

"Every afternoon?" Ranboo checked, feeling a little stunned.

"I mean- that was what I planned, but it's totally cool if you're busy and want less. Cause you're a teenager and kids have plans with their friends and also your parents might be worried if you have coding every day-"

"No no! No it's- it's good!" Ranboo said, feeling a grin spread across his cheeks, "I uh, only really hang out with Tubbo and Tommy anyway, and my parents… well uh they won't mind."

They probably wouldn't even notice.

No one but the two people on the couch with him had ever wanted to spend time. Even if Techno was only doing it to save himself having to deal with an untrained mutant on the lose, he was still putting in the time and the effort for Ranboo. No one ever went any further out of their way than they had to for him. Not teachers, not fosters, not other kids. And definitely not a superhero.

"Pog." Techno said, sounding relieved, "So every afternoon, Monday to Friday sound good?"

"Tubbo and Tommy shouldn't need to come more than twice a week," Phil said thoughtfully, "There's less they have to know than Ranboo does."

Tommy groaned in protest, but was still too excited about actually training to help a superhero to get properly upset.

"I'll come by right after school!" Ranboo confirmed, grinning even wider, "Thank you Techno!"

"No problem kid. Just- local friendly Spiderman things."

There was a moment's awkward silence, then, when none of them quite knew what to do, before Tubbo's phone buzzed.

He groaned, "Ugh it's my Dad, he wants me home for some fancy luncheon thingy. I better go."

"Thank you for having us over," Ranboo said politely, standing up too, Tommy handing the handle of Enderchest's harness.

"Of course!" Phil said, and Ranboo caught a beaming grin out of the side of his eye, "We'll see you- oh wait! Techno, did you want to get the thing?"

The thing? What thing?

"Oh right- the thing."

Ranboo stood in confusion as Techno quickly bustled out into another room, rustling around with something before returning.

Tubbo and Tommy were in the corridor already, waiting for him, but Techno's voice dropped in a way that insinuated he didn't want them to hear.

"You're going to have to keep this well hidden, alright?" he said seriously, "And only use it in life or death situations."

Ranboo's heart plummeted to his stomach as something smooth and familiar from childhood water fights, but so much heavier than the plastic of his youth was set into his palm.

"Techno!" he hissed, stuck between dropping the gun and not wanting to make it go off, "Take it back! Spiderman doesn't use a gun! Why do you even have this?"

"I told you, kid, life or death. Keep it safe, keep it hidden, but more importantly, keep it on you. Even if you don't want to be a hero, villains may find you anyway, and they will want to kill you. If you don't think you can kill, incapacitation is your friend."

"You want me to just shoot someone's kneecaps out??"

"No one ever expects Spiderman to have a glock."