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Peter Parker hung upside down from a web, scanning the alley below. Three masked guys were busy jimmying a door. He was halfway through planning his entrance line, something about property rights and bad life choices, when a blur of crimson dropped into the alley first.
The newcomer moved like smoke: precise, quick, utterly controlled. Three thugs down in under ten seconds, not a wasted motion.
Peter blinked.
“Okay, hold up,” he called, flipping upright and landing on the fire escape with a thunk. “Who invited you to my mugging?”
The man didn’t pause, just straightened calmly. “Didn’t realize it was a private event,” he said.
Peter swung down to street level, hands on his hips. “Those were my burglars.”
The man didn’t even look up. “You’re welcome.”
“Uh-huh. Cool, thanks and all that, but now my hero quota for the night is off. Gonna have to find new crime. You know how hard it is to find crime in New York? Practically extinct these days, there’s a lot of us.”
That earned the faintest twitch of a smile from behind the mask.
“You talk a lot,” the man said.
“I get that a lot! Usually right before people run off without saying goodbye.” Peter tilted his head. “So. Blind, huh?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“That’s so wild. You’re out here moving like you’ve got a built-in radar. You ever walk into a wall?”
“Not recently.”
“See, I do that all the time. And I have eyes.”
“I have eyes.”
“No… yeah, obviously.”
“You really don’t stop talking, do you?”
“I physically can’t. It’s a medical condition. What’s your name, or do I just call you Mr. Devil? Seems a bit much, I’m sure you’re not even that bad.”
Daredevil huffed something between a laugh and a sigh. One of the groaning thugs tried to crawl away. Without turning his head, the man in red shifted his stance, caught the guy’s wrist, twisted, and dropped him flat again. Smooth and effortless.
Peter stared. “Okay, yeah, that seemed a bit much by the way. Science says you shouldn’t even know he was there. So how’d you do it?”
“Maybe I listen better than you do.”
“Buddy, I’ve got enhanced hearing. I can hear a rat blinking three floors over.”
“Then maybe you should listen instead of talk. You should’ve heard this coming.”
Peter opened his mouth, realized he had nothing, and pointed lamely. “Alright, fine. One point to you, Mr. Echolocation.”
The corner of Daredevil’s mouth curved up. “You’re awfully talkative for someone who didn’t do any of the work.”
“It’s called moral support,” Peter said. “Very underappreciated in this field.”
A quiet beat followed, filled only by the distant wail of a siren. Peter scratched the back of his neck. His tone softened, earnest cutting through the chatter.
“Seriously though. You fight like that without sight. That’s wild. Respect.”
Matt inclined his head slightly, expression unreadable. “Thanks. Comes with drawbacks.”
Peter nodded, gaze flicking to the fallen goons. “Yeah. Doesn’t everything.”
The silence stretched calm, mutual, weirdly comfortable. Then Peter ruined it.
“So… any chance you’re taking interns?”
Tony Stark walked into the kitchen and immediately stopped dead.
There was coffee everywhere. The counter, the floor, the cabinet doors, basically a caffeine crime scene. A thin trail of dark liquid snaked toward his socks. The air smelled like burnt beans.
And in the middle of it stood Peter Parker. Eyes shut, head tilted, one hand groping the air like he was communing with the spirit of a barista.
Tony blinked, “Kid,” he said flatly.
Peter’s head perked up, grin spreading like nothing was wrong. “Oh hey, Mr. Stark!”
He was facing entirely the wrong direction.
Tony stared. “What are you doing?”
“Making coffee.”
“On the floor? What you gonna lick it up? Get a straw?”
Peter frowned, reaching out until his fingers brushed the counter. “I got it on the floor? Ah, crap.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are your eyes closed? Are you high?”
“What?! No! Of course not!”
“Then why are your eyes closed?”
“Just because.”
Tony tilted his head. “Peter, are you aware that you’re facing the wall right now?”
“…Am I?”
“Yup.”
Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. “This is not as easy as I thought.”
“Kid, open your eyes.”
He stilled. “No, I’m blind.”
Tony blinked again. “…You’re what.”
“I’m blind.” Peter said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Kid, you’re not blind.”
“I know. I’m just preparing myself. In case I ever go blind.”
Tony made a helpless sound and rubbed his face. “What?”
“It’s good to be prepared! I met this guy last night, actually you may have heard of him, he goes by Daredevil, which, I’m not trying to be mean, sounds like a stupid name to me. At least we’re self-explanatory in our names—”
“Kid, you’re rambling again.”
“Oh, yeah, well he is blind, and he’s crazy good. Like faster than me, which I mean hurt, but anyway. I was swinging home and thought, man, imagine if I went blind. What would that be like? So I figured I’d practice.”
Tony exhaled through his teeth. “I don’t—” He stopped, regrouped, ran a hand down his face and tried again. “I’m calling your aunt to pick you up.”
“She’s at work.”
“Then I’ll call Happy. I don’t have time for this.”
Peter’s tone went mock‑wounded. “You wouldn’t care for me if I suddenly turned blind?”
Tony’s voice jumped an octave. “What? Of course I would. You know I would.”
“Then why are you trying to send me away when I need you?”
“Because you literally have heightened vision, all you have done is just closed your eyes.”
“Well, I’m doing this today, so if you send me home, my risk of injury is much higher, and then you’ll feel bad.”
“I won’t, because it’s self‑inflicted.”
“How would falling over something on the floor be self‑inflicted?”
“Because, Peter, if you opened your eyes, you would’ve seen it.”
Peter tilted his head, thoughtful. “Okay, I’m gonna go to the lab.”
“No, you are not.” Tony moved to stand in the doorway, not that it mattered that much, he doubted the kid could find his way there.
“Why not?”
“Because you are refusing to open your eyes, and there are literal bombs in there.”
“Well, I won’t touch them.”
“How will you know what’s a bomb and what isn’t?”
“Vibes.”
Tony stared at him for a solid five seconds. Stared at this literal genius, this prodigy, this supposed savior of Queens, standing barefoot in a puddle of coffee facing the fridge with an almost smug expression. The kid was an idiot.
“Fine. You can stay here today,” Tony said finally, resigned. “But no lab. I mean it. Just… do things normal blind people do.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know! Ask your new buddy.”
“He’s a lawyer apparently, but I’m not meant to know that. Should I practice law?”
“Knock yourself out.”
“Okay!”
Tony groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he stepped carefully over the coffee spill. “God help me.”
Tony was halfway through a meeting when his phone buzzed.
He debated ignoring it. He failed.
“Yeah, Rogers, what’s on fire?” he asked, tapping the screen.
“Uh, nothing’s on fire,” Steve said, hesitant. “But the kid—he’s walking around the common area with his eyes closed. Talking to himself. Is he… asleep?”
Tony closed his laptop with a sharp snap, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “No.”
“Then why—?”
“He’s preparing to be blind.”
There was a pause. “...What?”
“He is preparing for impending blindness, apparently.”
“Tony, is he okay? Is it cancer?”
Tony dropped his head into his hand. “What? No, Steve. He’s not dying. He’s pretending.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“He met some guy last night. Blind vigilante. Now he’s running simulations. Don’t ask.”
“Are you not worried about him hurting himself?”
Tony groaned, leaning back in his chair. “He’s in a building made of glass and money. What’s he gonna do, stub his toe?”
“Still, maybe check on him.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s fine. If he walks into a wall, patch the wall.”
He hung up and went back to work. Five minutes later, the phone rang again.
“What,” he snapped.
“Hello to you too,” Rhodey said, voice dry. “You busy?”
“I was. What’s up?”
“Your spider kid just face-planted into a building.”
Tony shot out of his chair. “He what?”
“I was driving through Midtown,” Rhodey continued, “and saw him swing straight into a wall. Didn’t even flinch. Bounced right off and kept going.”
Tony dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “He left the Tower?!”
“Apparently. Wanted to let you know in case he, you know, concussed himself.”
“Can you see him now?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. Mostly. Though it looks like his lenses are blacked out.”
Tony gritted his teeth. “They’re closed. He’s pretending to be blind.”
Rhodey went quiet for a beat. “…He’s swinging between skyscrapers with his eyes closed?”
“Evidently.”
“What the hell, Tony.”
“Don’t start. He met this guy, Daredevil, and now he thinks he needs to be able to be blind or whatever.”
Rhodey laughed under his breath. “You sure you don’t want me to get him down?”
“Try it,” Tony muttered, voice flat. “He’ll probably tell you he’s ‘navigating it just fine.’”
Tony was elbows-deep in schematics trying to distract himself from the insistent worry about Peter being… Peter, when his phone buzzed again.
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s he doing now?”
“Oh, you already know who I’m calling about. Good. Saves time.” Sam said casually, as if Tony’s impending heart attack wasn’t his problem.
Tony closed what he was working on and leant back on his chair. “Hit me.”
“Your kid is wandering the hallway with his eyes closed. Looks like he’s… mapping the building.”
Tony frowned. “Mapping?”
“Yeah. Like a bat. He’s clicking his fingers and tilting his head. It’s unnerving, man.”
“Is he breaking anything?”
“Not yet. He just dodged a chair, though. Didn’t even touch it.”
Tony blinked. “Dodged it? How?”
“Don’t ask me. I think he said he heard it existing. Kid’s moving smoother than he did with his eyes open.”
Tony groaned. “Great. Just what I needed, blind Spider-Man.”
“Actually,” Sam said, “it’s kind of impressive. He’s got the layout down. He even jumped over a pillow fort he somehow made.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, just… make sure he doesn’t walk into any walls. Or windows. Or, God forbid, elevators.”
“Yeah, about that… he just stopped in front of the elevator door and said, ‘I can hear Steve’s heartbeat through the wall.’”
Tony froze. “…He said what?”
“Yeah. Then he waved and said, ‘Hi, Mr. Rogers!’ before Steve even came out. Terrified him.”
Tony slumped further into his chair. “Of course he did.”
Sam lowered his voice. “Tony, I’m starting to think he might actually be pulling this off.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Tony said sharply. “If he hears he’s doing well, I’ll find him base-jumping off the tower with a blindfold next.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Pretend it’s normal. That’s what I do.”
“Noted.” Sam paused. “By the way, he just said he’s gonna make lunch.”
Tony went pale, gripping the pen he had been tapping so tight it broke. “Oh, no. No. Stop him.”
“I dunno, he looks confident.”
“That’s what worries me.” Tony muttered, rubbing his temples again.
Tony was deep in a mess of holograms when the elevator doors hissed open behind him. He didn’t even have to look up.
“You’ve got that walk,” he muttered. “The one that means something happened.”
“It did,” Pepper said evenly. “And it was wearing red and blue.”
Tony groaned. “What’d he do now?”
Pepper stopped beside him, arms folded, voice perfectly calm in that terrifying Pepper Potts way. “I just came from the gym. Your intern is in there wearing a blindfold.”
Tony didn’t react. “Uh-huh.”
“With Sam and Steve .”
“Uh-huh.”
“Practicing combat.”
That got him to look up. “I’m sorry, he’s what?”
Pepper’s tone didn’t waver. “Flipping. Kicking. Dodging punches. Blindfolded. And winning.”
Tony blinked slowly. “He met a blind guy.”
“Excuse me?”
“Daredevil. Kid got inspired, decided to start–” He gestured vaguely at the air. “training for blindness.”
Pepper stared at him. “He’s sparring blindfolded.”
Tony sighed. “Yeah. That’s the problem. He’s getting good at it.”
Pepper blinked. “You let him do this?”
Tony threw up his hands. “I tried to stop him! Now I’m just hoping Darwin steps in before OSHA does.”
“Tony, he caught the shield mid-throw. Mid-throw. Without seeing it.”
Tony squinted. “…Seriously?”
“Yes.”
He slumped back in his chair. “Great. He’s evolving.”
Pepper pressed her fingers to her temple. “You need to tell him to stop before he hurts himself.”
“I have tried! He is very stubborn”
Tony walked into the kitchen, mid-sip of his coffee, and froze.
Peter was on the ceiling. Of course.
“Oh, hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter said cheerfully.
Tony blinked. “Wha– wait, I hadn’t even spoken yet. How did you know I was here? Have you finally opened your eyes?”
“Turns out I’m really great at being blind.”
Tony groaned. “God.”
Peter dropped down next to him, making Tony jump and slightly drop his mug. He braced for the clatter, but it never came. Peter held the mug carefully in front of him. Tony took it from him, still blinking in disbelief.
“Can I do a mission blind?” Peter asked eagerly.
“No.”
“Why? I’m really good at it!”
“Because, kid… you have eyes, and I’d like you to use them.”
“Okay.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Enlighten me, was this just a one-day thing?”
Peter yawned and stretched. “Yeah. I’m actually kinda bored now. I want to watch a movie.” He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. “What d’you wanna watch, Mr. Stark?”
Tony shook his head, grinning despite himself. “I have so much newfound respect for your aunt.”
Tony pulled his phone out of his hand and called the number. They picked up on the tenth ring.
“Stark.”
“Hey, hows retirement.”
“Fine.”
“You’re lying Barton. Anyway if you happen to see a certain spider-kid, you know ever, please for the love of god, please do not tell him you are partially deaf.”