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"How you doing, Frank?"
Frank didn't even groan; it'd be a waste of energy. He simply sucked in a breath and looked up. When he saw the red and blue spider-themed suit, he was confirming what he already knew. There was only a single person in the world willing to casually pull up to Frank on the street.
Spider-Man was hanging onto the side of a building with one hand and one leg. Peter either didn’t notice or didn't care that passersby were staring as he sent a finger gun at Frank. The kid had bad manners.
Peter then let go of the building as Frank acknowledged his presence with a heavy sigh. He quickly skipped across the pavement and walked with Frank down the street. Civilians parted away to give them space because they actually valued their lives.
"Do you have many friends?" Peter asked, looking over at Frank with a focus that only uni students on Adderall had.
Frank needed a smoke. What he got was a headache. Funny thing, that. It always popped up when Peter was around.
"Is this about that fuckin' merc again?"
The number of times Frank had warned Peter away from Deadpool wasn't enough. Peter shouldn't be capable of fitting in with a murderer so easily, yet Deadpool clung to Spider-Man, and neither of them saw it as wrong. Well…
Deadpool definitely thought it was crazy that Spider-Man willingly hung out with him. Frank had been there last week when Spider-Man and Deadpool were patrolling and stumbled across the traffickers Frank was handling. Deadpool was shocked that Spider-Man got along with the Punisher, and then murmured to himself, 'Is this why Spidey's cool with me?'
Somehow, Frank got on Deadpool's good side. It would bother him more, if only Matt didn't hate Deadpool with a passion. It rivaled Matt's hate for Frank, and that was saying something. At least this way, Frank got to piss off Matt without lifting a finger to wreak havoc.
"Nope," Peter said, popping the 'p'. He gestured between him and Frank and said blandly, "I'm still friendless, apparently. MJ and Ned said so. Wade doesn't count as me making a friend."
That didn't answer many of Frank's questions. He grunted, and gave Peter a look. "Why are you here asking about that shit?"
There was no relation between the spider social epidemic and Peter needing to talk to Frank. Ask anyone, and they'd say that Frank didn't have friends. Or family. He was isolated, and rarely worked well with others. You'd think that Peter, who he quite literally shot, wouldn't come to him for help.
"You have contacts, yeah? You know DD." Peter had to stop trusting conspiracy theories he read online. "DD knows the other Defenders. They probably know even more people—like Hawkeye."
"And?" Frank stopped walking, giving Peter a long, hard stare.
"I was wondering—just wondering—if there was a possibility of you introducing me to them."
There were times in everyone's lives when they feared for their future. Frank was currently living one of those times. The vigilantes he knew thought of Spider-Man as a high-up hero. They knew he wasn't impossible to injure, but Peter's death wasn't rationalized in their heads.
Once they met, they would realize the errors of their ways, also known as: a lot of complexes coming to light. Vigilantes were a rough bunch, and each one of them had guilt a mile long and thousands of miles high.
Frank didn't want Peter to meet any of them. What if they accidentally encouraged Peter to do worse because they were so bad at being humans? The kid was finally figuring out his life. He was around the people he loved. He was attempting to make friends, too, it looked like.
Why in all things holy would Peter want to ruin that?
"You've met 'em before," Frank said gruffly.
"As friends," Peter clarified, sounding very sure of himself, and just a tinge excited with anticipation. "Not just people who fight by each other occasionally, but people who hang out and relax and… all that."
Frank suspected that Peter didn't know what friendship looked like. Poor fucker. Was this how people felt when they looked at Frank? They better not.
"Why are you asking me, and not your new friend Wade?"
"DP doesn't want me around the people he knows," Peter explained wholeheartedly. "Says things about protecting me and also being embarrassed. I'd push it, but we've only known each other a month, so—"
"So you came to me, your other murderous friend?" Frank was honestly concerned for Peter. Was he right in the head? When was the last time he had a check-up? Did the hospital visit a while back count?
Peter paused, pressing his lips together. Slowly, those lips formed into a smile. "You consider us friends?" He sounded so happy yet strangely unsettled.
Frank had fucked up.
He tried to amend, "That's not—"
"You called me your friend! This is– is so weird—but awesome! It's awesome, too, don't you worry." Peter sounded worried. The kid probably didn't expect to make friends with people born in a different generation than him, but hey, most vigilantes were older.
"I've made two friends in a month! Take that, MJ!" Peter fisted the air, sounding pumped up like he had won the lottery and not gotten stuck with Frank and Wade as his closest friends outside of MJ and Ned.
Just how messed up was this guy? Don't answer that—for the kid's sake, not Frank's.
"I didn't know you thought of me that way," Peter said after a long moment as they continued to walk, sounding as bashful as an eighth grader with their first real crush. "I thought you were annoyed by me."
Frank was. Is.
There was no part of him that expected to be in Spider-Man's presence as often as he was now. Frank had worked with Peter more times than he could keep count of ever since Spider-Man returned to patrolling after his injury.
They shouldn't have worked together, but they did. Frank couldn't hate the kid, even if he did seem naive and got himself in danger because of it.
"You're not a bad person," Frank gritted out.
"So I should come bother you more often? Got it. You'll be wishing for me to be squished like a bug against a skyscraper with time!"
Regret didn't begin to cover what Frank felt at the moment, but it was a start. He should have just kept his mouth shut. Frank Castle didn't have friends. He barely had allies. He… He really only worked with one person. Adding another into the mix…
"We should make friendship bracelets," Peter buzzed in, likely filling the silence that Frank left in his wake. "There's a store down the block from here. They have lots of craft supplies. You're not allergic to cotton, right? Or plastic. Our bracelets will say 'Spidey + Punisher 4 Ever.' What do you think?"
Oh, the kid was just having him on, now. Peter was a little shit, and Frank would not stand for it any longer.
"Will you zip your lips?" Frank knew why Peter was acting like this. He gave in because he was a weak bastard. "I'll introduce you to them."
Peter turned toward him, his voice high and snappy, "Promise?"
Frank was going to regret this. He knew he would. Yet, he gave a nod of confirmation. The others were asking to meet Spider-Man the last time they met up. This was solving two problems at once.
Just in case, Frank checked, "You can drink, yeah?"
Peter responded instantly, "I think so."
Concerning, but not his responsibility. Frank had seen the kid fight the Hulk. Even if he wasn't quite 21, he deserved to drink. Frank would be drinking at 20 if he could fight the Hulk and live after.
"I'll put together a thing." Frank felt older than his years. He rubbed his hand over his face, feeling haggard after just a few minutes in Peter's presence.
Peter must have known he was weak, because he asked, "Can I invite Wade to come along?"
Frank would never allow that. He didn't want his free booze night to turn into a bloody massacre. He needed to find someone to blame, and Frank knew just the guy.
"Not unless you want Daredevil to walk out and never look back."
Peter fell out of step, turning morose. "… Too many people have bad blood around here."
"That's what happens in New York." Frank shrugged, giving a what-can-you-do look to Peter.
"I think you're pushing your feelings onto it. You shouldn't do that. New York is great!"
Frank gave Peter an unimpressed glance over. He shooed the kid away with his hand. "Skedaddle already, or I'll shoot you."
"As if." Peter had a lot of gall, but he was right.
But he still webbed away, throwing himself up in the air. Frank would never be able to watch that and not have his back ache in sympathy.
As Spider-Man faded into a small dot, Frank let out a breath.
Frank decided then and there that he was going to drink once he got home. But, for now, he had a message to send out. Hopefully they wouldn't mind meeting on such short notice.
Frank had the kid meet him a block from Luke's. He wanted to check on Peter before fully letting him meet the others. He might have also been letting Matt, Jessica, Luke, and Danny talk to each other before sicking Peter on them.
Peter, however, was not dressed in civies. He was wearing his Spider-Man suit with a fur-padded coat over it and winter boots. They matched, so it was definitely a gift from someone. The kid didn't buy himself nice things.
"Why the fuck are you in your mask?" Frank demanded harshly, appalled at Peter showing up as Spider-Man.
Peter blinked, then shifted his weight back and forth across the snow. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Fuckin' hell, this kid was going places. Specifically, he was going to the edge of a cliff so he could push Frank off of it.
"You showin' up looking like that?" Frank asked, judging Peter with no discrimination. He didn't care if the kid was easy to like. What the fuck was this?
"I sure am. The mask always stays on. Not even Yelena knows for sure… I think. She would have told me if she knew my name. She for sure knows Ned's, though. Or at least, she knows where Ned lives."
Frank knew more about Spider-Man than the Black Widow? Huh. That felt very nice. But also dangerous. Did this kid really not have any other contacts? What if he got in trouble? Did he expect to deal with it all on his own?
The more he knew, the more Frank was concerned for Peter. He kept telling himself it wasn't his problem to worry about, but…
"Do you mind if we stop at a store first? I burned the pie I was making and didn't have time to make another. MJ was really upset about the smoke, but that was because their upstairs neighbor complained about it."
Frank felt the need to press his fingers to the crook of his nose. Because he was in Peter's presence, he didn't. His headache was only going to get worse.
As they made a pit stop, Frank repeated one sentence in his head over and over on loop: at least the kid didn't try to sneak Deadpool into this meeting.
They arrived over 30 minutes late.
Most of the Chinese take-out was already pilfered through. The booze was open, too, though that was expected. All of this was. Frank knew what he was walking into. He just worried about who he was walking in with.
Jessica was cackling over something Danny said, pouring them both a drink, but her shoulders were tense, like she couldn't settle until the rest of their group arrived. Luke looked at the two of them, then asked for his cup to be refilled. Jessica shifted to do so, and then paused as she looked up.
Matt was already frowning as Frank entered with Peter by his side. Matt definitely recognized who Peter was because he looked unsettled. Frank did so love to tick off that preaching bastard.
"Whoa, it's so warm in here," Peter said, awe in his tone.
He maneuvered around the room, carefully stepping over boxes and supplies. A thin cardboard box with a pie in it was in his hands. He carried it like he held something expensive, raising it higher when he came across a bump in the way. Frank was carrying the pint of ice cream that went with the pie, per Peter's orders.
He knew that the others were definitely shocked by Peter's appearance. Frank purposely didn't tell them why he wanted to call a meeting. This is what those fuckers got for their interrogation session last time.
Delicately, Matt asked, "Am I correct to say that Frank walked in with Spider-Man?"
"Yup," Jessica replied instantly, her eyes locked on Peter's form. "Did you know about this?"
"No…" Matt Murdock was reduced to silence. Who would have thought Frank would see the day?
Danny ignored those two to wave at Frank and Peter. He even stood up to receive the pie from Peter. "Spider-Man! Nice of you to join us."
Danny was good at putting on a smile even when he was unnerved. Peter smiled back behind his mask and handed over the pie easily. Frank simply chucked the ice cream onto the table. Peter clearly didn't know their meetings were more laidback, and not a potluck.
"It's great to be here," Peter said, so genuine that children have cried tears over it.
Frank didn't bother with beer. He needed something strong. He pointed to Jessica, and she understood with just a split-second glance. She poured heavily and strong, then slid it across the table.
Frank then shoved that drink at Peter, and went to get himself a chair. Peter sat down after looking confused for a moment. "Don't you want this?"
"I'm fine—"
Jessica spoke up to say, "I'll make him one." She glanced back and forth from Frank to Peter, her mind spinning.
Frank hated detectives. They were either completely off the mark, or so close that it hurt. Frank dragged a chair over and plopped down between Danny and Peter. Danny clicked with the kid first, both of them talking about the pie.
"No one's brought dessert before." Danny was oddly pleased with the generic-branded items.
"I felt bad not showing up with anything. Sorry for the mess!" Peter rubbed the back of his neck. "And for probably being late."
No one said a thing about it. They wouldn't complain even if he was hours late. Why would they, when it was Spider-Man? He wasn't known for meeting up with people. The only person he was publicly close with was Iron Man, and Stark had been dead for years.
Frank took the cup from the table that Jessica passed to him, and took a large gulp. It burned, though Frank had had worse.
He set the cup back down, only to notice a small jostling. He glanced down to see Peter's foot tapping the ground. What was he anxious for? Peter would be fine.
"You're fine, kid," Frank muttered.
Peter looked at him out of the corner of his eye, then took a deep breath. "Yeah, I know… just– this is very weird."
"You think this is only weird for you?" Frank could have laughed. Instead, he scoffed, "You're not doing any different than the others here. Calm down."
It was strange to see Peter so anxious. It was like he was worried for MJ all over again, but with less fear and more nervousness. The kid could survive a shot through the chest, he shouldn't be worried about needless things like this.
That's when Matt murmured, "Castle made a friend? I'd never thought I'd live the day to see it."
Frank could hear the snarky undertone. "Seeing is believing," Frank responded, a tad harsher than normal.
Matt just smiled tightly, picking up his cup to drink from. He wasn't going hard at all. He took small sips, which was new. Matt usually relaxed in these meetings. It meant Matt was trying to stay clear-headed while in Spider-Man's presence.
Like a good host, Luke changed the subject. "Spider-Man… is vodka not to your liking? There are other options."
Peter looked spooked at being referred to directly. "N– No! I'm fine. This—" he lifted the cup up, "—is perfect. I just need to get out something first!"
Peter proceeded to ruffle around his coat pockets until he came back with a clear rubber tube, bendy and long. He placed one end in the cup, then begin to put the other under his mask.
"Kid," Frank said, tired and in need of permanent rest, "you don't need to worry about your identity. You can trust them."
Peter stopped, setting the neck of his suit back down. He looked at Frank, then gave a cautious glance over the rest of the table.
"C'mon," Frank goaded, "if you can trust me, you can trust them. They're all more aligned with you morally than I am… though it's not by much."
The room didn't feel tight or stuffy. There wasn't tension, just curiosity. Matt didn't speak up to fight Frank's words, so he knew that this moment was important. Jessica looked at Peter impassively, but Danny's eyes were lit up, and Luke looked just as excited as him.
How were these guys the same ones who ensured that New York continued standing?
"I– I know it's weird for me to be so protective of my identity," Peter said, explaining himself when he wasn't asked. "I'm not used to it. Only four people know and—"
"Five," corrected Frank. Peter gave him a confused look. "Black Widow definitely knows, don't kid yourself."
"Yelena would tell me if she knew," Peter said, giving Frank a stink-eye. "I wouldn't be wearing just my mask when I went to her office if not."
What the hell did that even mean? Frank had questions. He always did when Peter talked, but he had to set it to the side. He was trying to convince Peter to tell the others his identity so that he had people to fall back on when he needed help.
"Fine, she doesn't know." Frank could bullshit his way through this. "It still doesn't help the fact that you have trust issues."
"I don't have trust—"
"You don't trust anyone older than you." Frank couldn't hold back since the kid's life was on the line. Peter couldn't rely on his two friends and Frank all the time. There'd be threats too big for Frank to be helpful. "At least, not unless they prove it. It takes a lot, yeah? You basically have to die before you hand over your trust."
Peter froze, and it wasn't something easily missed. He completely froze still, his eyes going wide behind the whites of his mask's shielding. He tried to form words but couldn't because Frank was right. Frank knew he was right. He had been watching Spider-Man closely for months now.
"You can trust the people at this table," Frank continued. "They would rather die than put you in danger."
He wondered what it looked like to the others. They didn't know anything about Peter, not really. Headlines about Spider-Man were constant, but that didn't mean they knew how self-sacrificial the kid was. They had no idea who Peter Parker was. They only knew what Spider-Man stood for, and even that got misconstrued sometimes.
Peter let out a shaky laugh. "What? A guy can't be nervous?" If he was joking, then he was on the cusp of deciding what to do.
"A guy who can convince the Hulk not to kill anyone can reveal his identity amongst friends."
It was unfair, he knew, to say it, but it made Peter slide off his mask.
His fingers were hesitant across his neckline. He swallowed nervously, his eyes flickering around the table's occupants like he was determining if they were threats. Then slowly, ever so slowly, Peter pulled up his neck. His chin was revealed first, and once it was over his nose, he pulled on the back of his mask, then stuffed it in his coat pocket.
Peter didn't look at the others. He looked at Frank and said, "Happy now?"
"I'm never happy, kid." Frank wouldn't let Peter win one over on him. Not when Frank got Peter to reveal his identity to a gaggle of vigilantes who would lay down their lives to ensure his survival. "Just drink, will you? You're too uptight."
"I have the right to be uptight. I'm doubling the number of people who know me in one night. You're public, I've never been." Peter lifted the glass to his face anyway. He was avoiding looking at anyone other than Frank. "And who's to say that alcohol even works on me, have you thought of that? It'll probably do nothing, just like Advil."
"Oh, boo-hoo, my super metabolism that heals me also makes it so I can't get drunk." Frank didn't need to roll his eyes. Peter understood him without it.
"You're a real ass tonight," Peter muttered. Then, "I should've brought Wade."
Frank wasn't going to let that slip by. "You would have told Deadpool your identity? No chance, you're still deciding whether or not he's using you."
"No, I'm not." Peter seemed appalled over it. "I'm– I'm just being cautious. If Yelena, and you, and Dewolff all warned me about DP, then I—"
"You had three separate parties warning you off from Deadpool, but you still befriended him?" Frank didn't hide the bafflement and resentment in his tone. "You trying to fuckin' die, kid?"
"He has good in him," Peter argued, his eyes blazing with a fire that wouldn't go out. "I believe him. Wade's trying to change, so if patrolling with him every so often helps that, then that's what I'm going to do."
"You shouldn't be trying to fix a guy like him." Frank would know. Shut up and listen already, kid.
"I'm not trying to. There's nothing to fix. He's doing what he wants now, and what he wants is to turn over a new leaf."
"You trust too easily."
"Ha, thanks." Peter turned away from Frank, ignoring him as if that would settle their argument. "Sooo, it's nice to meet you all."
He finally looked at the others, meeting them face-to-face for the first time.
There were no suits during meetings. It was a rule that Frank broke by bringing Peter in while he was still dressed up as Spider-Man.
Matt coughed, then asked, "The rumors of you working with Deadpool are true?"
Peter's shoulders were tense as he responded, "It's true. He's a good man, don't let his past speak for him. He's… He's been good to have around."
"Deadpool?" Matt asked, his voice turning funky, as it always did when Wade Wilson was mentioned.
Peter shifted uneasily in his seat. "Is there a problem with him? Frank said you and DP had a history but…"
"My history with Deadpool is similar to the one I have with Frank," Matt admitted. He tapped his fingers against the table's edge, determining what to say next.
Frank knew what was happening, but he couldn't stop it. "Hey—"
"Frank shot me in the head," revealed Matt, his voice lower and more gentle, like he was expecting Peter to feel remorse for him.
However, Peter simply pointed at himself and said, "Frank shot me too! Oh, whoa, what are the chances? We should have a shot-by-Frank club membership card."
Frank was going to add another to that list if Peter didn't shut the fuck up soon.
"I should also say," Peter began, "that it's nice to finally realize your identity, Mr. Murdock! I guess since you already knew mine, and I kind of knew yours, though only partially—"
Frank snapped out of his daydream. "You know him?"
Peter blinked, then said, "I've had legal trouble before."
Frank turned to Matt, who tilted his head slightly, which was basically a tell of his confusion. Matt pressed his lips together, then said, "I don't recall meeting you at my law office, or ever having you as a client."
"Well, you wouldn't." Peter chuckled and didn't explain anything more. Was he being purposefully cryptic, or was he just bad in social situations?
The conversation turned stilted. Peter, not minding it, sipped on his drink. He coughed afterward, making Frank remember that the kid didn't exactly have friends until a couple of months ago. He probably didn't party or regularly drink.
Thankfully, Luke decided to continue things. "I believe you already know us, but—" he pointed to himself, then went around the table, "—Luke Cage. Matt Murdock, better known as Daredevil. Jessica Jones. Danny Rand, who is more commonly known as Iron Fist… And Frank Castle, the Punisher."
Peter gulped like a fish out of water as he set his drink down. "Peter," he said. "Peter Parker, also known as Spider-Man."
There was an intake of breath. Danny's breath hitched, and Frank saw Jessica nod her head seriously. Matt and Luke both remained passive, but they were stones no matter the situation. They developed it with what work they dug up.
"It's really great to meet you all. Officially." Peter's foot returned to tapping on the floor. "I've followed your careers for years, obviously, but it's way different to be an outsider compared to seeing in."
Luke shook his head and muttered, "Claire's going to be so mad she skipped this meeting." And damn, wasn't that right? She had been trying to meet Spider-Man for years because she was one of the only vigilantes to never end up bleeding out on her couch.