Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Spider-Man.


White Noise

Some days, it's harder than others to wear the mask. Sometimes, it's like it doesn't make any sense anymore – what he is, what he does, and why he does it. It's like he needs to stop playing pretend, because things like this only happen in comic books, and what's one man really going to do against a cruel and corrupt world? Heroes fall, and they fall hard, because they like to think they're invincible when, in truth, they're anything but. And Peter is no exception to this, because he has power now, and sometimes he likes to think, just maybe, he's better than the rest of the human race. But he isn't, and deep down, he's painfully aware of this.

On days like this, when he's confused and angry and lonely, he doesn't go to school, doesn't take Gwen's calls, and locks himself in his room. He stares into the dark eyes of the mask, half-admiring their reflective surface, half-soul searching. But those eyes are lifeless, and he never finds any answers in them. All he finds are secrets and lies and shadows, the foundation of the knotted and tangled web he's been weaving. One day, he thinks, he's going to trip up and catch himself in his own threads.

Despite the power and the costume and the sudden obligation he has to protect this city, he's still a kid underneath it all, and he needs reassurance. While Gwen is a good enough supporter, sometimes he finds himself needing more.

When the world feels heaviest on his shoulders, he takes out his cellphone and goes into his voice-mail. Uncle Ben always did have a way with words.

"Peter, you're my hero ."

And, suddenly, it's a little easier to put the mask on, to go out there time and time again to try and save a city beyond saving.