The run cooled his head a little. The fresh air and the autopilot of knowing where he was going helped to clear his mind.

As he stopped outside the offices of Nelson and Murdock, he now knew why Aunt May had picked them.

It was a small rundown office, with no lettering on the door and boxes piled up outside. Whoever they were, they were cheap, and Peter, hoped, at least they had passed the bar.

Peter knocked and a tall handsome man, wearing red-lensed glasses answered. He had a five o'clock shadow and was holding a cane.

“Peter?”

Peter nodded and then shook his head at the idiocy of nodding at a blind man. “Uh, yeah. Mr Murdock?” and the man stuck out his hand for Peter to shake,

“Call me Matt.” After holding the door open for Peter, they moved through the small office hallway.

“We just moved in, so excuse the mess.”

As Peter moved through the piles of files he saw another man sitting at a desk with phones covering it. He smiled and went back to his own work.

“Dont mind Foggy. We don’t have a secretary so, he’s covering.”

“My uh Aunt May could do that, I mean. If you’re hiring.” Peter asked innocently. He was sure Aunt May could type and file if she tried.

Matt laughed, “Let's settle your issues first okay.” As he tapped his cane he sat on his side of the desk. “So. Eugene Thompson. Tell me what happened.”

Peter narrated his life at Midtown High, starting with the smaller stuff. How a stupid argument he couldn't even remember started it.

It then went from harsh language and being ignored to worse. Once a childhood friend appeared and started to date Flash, it went downhill from there.

He explained the messed-up locker, the stolen books, the veiled threats. Moving onto pushing, shoving, and tripping. The worst of it resulted in Peter being sent to the ground, breaking his wrist.

Which led to the incident at Oscorp. Peter neglected the bite and the physical changes. It should under attorney-client confidentiality, but Peter was unwilling to risk that. And then the story got to his deal with Norman, and the check he received.

“While I can’t say anything about the NDA, It might not have been the wisest choice to make.”

Matt could hear that Peter hadn’t been lying about anything. What concerned him more was his unnatural calmness. Nothing was making him upset or even slightly angry.

His pulse and breathing were both normal. In fact, there was a strange chemical scent coming from Peter. One he had smelt before. One he was very familiar with.

If Peter had been exposed to a similar chemical at Oscorp then he hadn’t mentioned it. If he hadn’t mentioned it then either nothing had happened to him, or he was keeping it secret.

As Matt was well aware, keeping secrets was essential to staying safe.

As Peter hadn't said anything about Oscorp, he moved on. “And the two fights?” Matt asked, “Tell me about them. Try to remember as much as you can.”

“The first one he did his usual. Tried to intimidate me at my locker but, he tried to slam me against the locker and missed, got mad and sent me flying. Everyone saw. Even a teacher.”

Matt nodded, “Yes. We tried to speak to Ms Munroe but the school was adamant she isn't on their staff, so her testimony doesn't count.”

Peter sighed, “But she is a teacher right? So it’s got to count for something./”

Matt smiled, “Leave that to me, okay?”

Peter nodded

“Now, the second fight. The one that got you suspended.”

Peter explained and moved to the meeting he had.

Matt was writing, “but you can’t prove he hit you first, and the video is edited to show only you hitting him?”

Peter frowned, “yeah. I mean, why else would I be on the ground? It's not like I was doing anything else.”

Matt tapped the pencil against the pad. “We can get the school on that, as well as holding an official meeting without a guardian present. You might be eighteen but they are still required to allow you a parent or guardian present.”

Matt made another note.

"We also have been unable to get the minutes of that meeting, or any signed documentation from it."

Peter was confused, "I don't know what that means?"

"That unless the school provides them, your suspension is word of mouth only. And so they can't really punish you for it."

Matt lay the pencil down on the pad.

“Peter. I’ll be honest. Stay away from Flash, start using recording apps on your phone or video if you can get it. If the school is going to take his side, make sure you have as much evidence as possible."

Matt reached into his desk and handed Peter a small tape recorder.

"Otherwise,” and he leaned back and shook his head. “Harrison Thompson gives the school a lot of money. If it comes down to you or them, we both know who they will pick.”

Peter nodded, turning the recorder over in his hands nervously.

This had gone from a simple case of bullying to needing evidence of foul play. “yeah I know. But thank you, Mr Murdock.”

Matt laughed, “please, just Matt is fine.”

Matt showed him out again, and Peter left with a new sense of freedom.

He might not have Flash in any legal way but Matt seemed happy enough with the testimony and with the way forwards. As long as he kept away from Flash and kept his head down, there shouldn't be any more trouble.

With the interview and the run back only taking a little over two hours, Peter arrived back at the warehouse.

Unlocking the door, he slipped inside and groaned a the mess he had made.

He sat in the clean office and flicked on his phone. First was getting a comfortable space to rest while cleaning the rest of the warehouse.   So he began to look at any plans for converting it into an open-plan apartment.

There was a glut of them on the internet, as gentrification was becoming fashionable. If Matt was agreeable, Peter made a note to see if he could get the paperwork done. While easy enough there was still lawyer stuff needing to be done to make it legitimate with the City. Labs needed safety certificates, and a home would need a licence, he discovered.

Mail and deliveries weren't an issue, as he just needed to secure a box outside.

Sighing and looking out of the window he started to make more notes.

The first one was cleaning supplies. The warehouse had been empty since the shootout. Evidence and salvage collection hadn't left the place any cleaner than when it was a drug lab.

He needed not just a large boom for sweeping but bleach and other strong cleaners. The blood stains could be hidden with resin acrylic paint, but it needed special shoes to walk over for a while.

Carpets could be bought easily enough. Plain grey or dark blue office carpets were cheap, and he could even buy them precut with rubber edges. It would be simple enough to lay a path out and then fit the carpet to match.

With a pad from his bag, he began to sketch out the warehouse floor. With two offices back to back, he could fit six around the walls, leaving plenty of space for storage.

He would need to fit a floor of some kind to the walkways, and secure the roof hatch.

Plumbing and power could be routed from the roof.

Leaving the problem of getting it all certified as another headache.

As he finished the list, he hoped Aunt May wouldn't snoop. Just in case he labelled the top of both lists, “Assignment. Homeless urban renewal project. Social Sciences.” and slid both into his bag.

Looking at the time, he had felt his stomach grumble but ignored it. Seeing it was after twelve, he pulled out his lunch bag and started to eat while he thought.

Right now the plans he had for the warehouse had to stay a secret.

He leaned back against the wall of the office and stretched out. He knew the last year of school would drag on.

His coursework had all been completed ahead of schedule. His exam prep was all done. Application forms were being sent off to all the major colleges he wanted to apply to. On top of all that now he was a property owner.

Even with the suspension, there was nothing much the school could do. He was legally entitled to sit his exams, and legally entitled to his education.

The warehouse deal was done and signed. Even if the security guard came back, he was here legally. He just needed to wait for his cheque to clear and for the paperwork to become official.

Once that was done he could begin to clean the place up properly. It would be a long boring, and as he found, expensive chore but at the end of it he would have a place of his own.

Maybe once it was clean enough he could even show Gwen around. He bit his lip in hesitation.

He knew she wouldn't say anything, but he was reluctant to let anyone know. As soon as Flash found it, it could become another thing he would try to take from him.

That was the future though. Right now he still wanted to get school finished and done with. Once Flash was out of his life he could start his own.

The warehouse could wait a few more months, he would have the summer to fix it up. All he had left was an internship at Hammer.

Gwen had done hers early as her birthday meant she was eighteen at the start of the year and had gotten a head start. There was so much to do. And it seemed like he was stretching himself, and his finances, thinner and thinner.

Which gave him another problem. Hammer was unpaid, and college was expensive. What he really needed was a job. Looking at the local listings online there was next to nothing a college student could do.

Variable hours were the bane of every student. They meant either early mornings or late nights, and with a full schedule, Peter could do neither.

He could tell a small lie to Aunt May, that he found a job and was working in the evening. Even three or four hours after school would give him a little time.

He searched the area and in the district, there was a junkyard and two scrap yards around Sunset Park. Any of those would be perfect as he could get to the warehouse without too much suspicion.

He hated the idea of having to lie, but it was an emergency. If he just made sure he had something to show for it. He was sure she would understand.

Huffing in frustration, he went back to looking at prefabbed homes.

He bookmarked several sites. Each one with instructions and floor plans of container homes. They were normally used in places suffering a disaster as they were easy to build.

Closing the browser down, he mused over the remains of his lunch.

So much to do and so little time.

He laughed as that thought hit him, as with two weeks suspension he would have nothing but time. Could he ask anyone though?

He didn't know anyone. The only muscle he knew that could help to move and renovate would be Flash.

Peter shook his head as he would rather learn to sing and teach racoons to do housework than ask him for anything.

Even Harry would be no help. He'd hire contractors and Peter would be out hundreds of thousands of dollars just for them to look at the place.

No, he needed to make time for this, he needed to get a grip on his life, once and for all.

With his new powers though the work should be manageable on his own. He would have to be careful not to attract too much attention to himself.

A skinny kid lifting piles of lumber or sacks of concrete would look strange.

He had amazing powers but he needed to be careful not to draw attention to himself. Maybe some kind of costume would help.

Working in a dusty warehouse, he could just tie a bandana over his face, and wear a boiler suit. They were bulk enough that you couldn't really tell who was under there.

That was for later though. The school was his more pressing issue.

Felicia had raised a good point. With midterms coming up and the clubs seeing their final push for competition season. With his position on the math club in jeopardy, he was sure Cindy would be looking to replace him. Another black mark on his record.

He had two weeks but then he had to make sure the school hadn’t given out something he was expected to know and didn’t.

It was another worry to add to the also growing list.

Would Flash try something stupid? The school had practically given him permission to do what he wanted.

Would he have time to get the warehouse cleaned and fixed up without help?

Would Matt be able to help make this stupid fight go away, or would it follow him into adulthood?

Peter sighed and leaned back. Back to feeling disheartened by it all.

No! Screw them, he thought. I’m smart, I’m handsome, and I have friends. Flash is a moron who thinks daddy’s money can save him. He won't win, we won't let him win.

He laughed, and flicking on his phone, began to search for more videos on how to fight properly. He grinned as the new data plan let him surf as much as he wanted.

If Flash wanted a fight. He would get one.