It had ended with her crying. He could never stand when she cried, especially when he caused it. It had started as a conversation. May had tried to keep it casual.

"Another fight, tough guy?"

"Yeah it's no big deal," he said, closing the door harder than he meant to. He dropped his bag and flopped onto the couch. His head fell back against the cushions. He had tried his best to clean himself up before he got home but he could feel the laceration oozing onto May's couch. Thankfully she wouldn't see the blood until he got up, the cut hidden in his hair.

"Is this something I should be worried about? 'Cause all the books tell me I'm a bad adult for letting this happen to you." May kept puttering around the kitchen. She straightened the chairs at the table, put out two plates and silverware. When she got no response from her nephew she went to the doorframe.

"Peter, please. Tell me who's doing this to you." He felt the couch sink as May sat besides him.

"I can help-"

"I don't need your help, Aunt May!" Peter leapt to his feet, putting some distance between himself and his aunt, "It isn't a big deal. It's just some jerks at school. I can handle it."

"It is a big deal, Peter. Someone is hurting you and I can't take it," her voice broke with tears forming in the corner of her eyes, slowly slipping down. She stood up and crossed to him, taking his hand. "Please, talk to me."

"NO!" Peter shook his aunt off, shoved her away. May stared at him.

"This isn't you, Peter. This isn't my happy, go-lucky nephew."

"Maybe I'm not what you want. Maybe you should just get rid of me if you're so unhappy." Peter slammed the door to his room and bolted it.

He heard her crying through the door. He knew it wasn't fair to make May worry and then to take his anger out on her. But what was he going to say, 'Hey I'm Spider-man so when kids at school beat the shit out of me I can't fight back or I'll maim them'. He had slipped out in his suit, he couldn't listen to her crying anymore.

As he was swinging he felt moisture in his mask. He wanted to wipe it away, it made the mask even more humid and the stupid goggles fog up. But he heard a siren and that was his cue.

He followed the police cars to the corner of Main and Covetti. It was two drunks going at each other. He shook his head. He had better things to do than deal with a bunch of drunk idiots, the cops could at least handle that. He kept swinging right past them, hearing as he passed, 'Is that the Spider-dude?' That's what his job felt like mostly, babysitting and dealing with idiots. Sometimes he got to save a life, sometimes he got to stand up for the little guy. But mostly he ran around Queens dealing with morons and thugs and the only recognition he got for it was a headline that blasted 'SPIDER-MAN MENACE TO SOCIETY!'

"Help!" The shrill voice of a frightened woman brought him out of his brooding. He followed it and saw her, up against a wall, three men around her. Two held her against the wall, the third had a hand up her skirt.

He swung down, kicking one in the head. The other two, confused, let go of the woman and went at him. He dodged the first one's punches and grabbed the second guy's fist. He squeezed until he heard a crack. He pushed that one back in time to catch the other's kick to his stomach. He brought his arm down on the leg for another satisfying crunch.

"Thank you!" The woman said, getting up from where she had sunk down against the wall. The three assailants were on the ground, the first out cold, the other two nursing their broken bones.

"Get out of here, go home." Peter said to her, looking at her. She was young, twenties maybe. He usually would speak with the person he saved, asked if they were ok.

"And next time don't be so stupid. Don't be out so late alone."

The woman stared at him and he saw shock and disappointment flash across her face. But she listened and started walking, breaking out into a brisk walk.

The one with the broken hand had gotten up and started to run. Peter webbed himself over and in front of him.

"You like messing with girls, you pervert!" The man were middle aged. It disgusted him. The man started backing up. Peter went to work quickly, adding a black eye, maybe a fracture to the man's injuries. He webbed the guy to the wall and went over to the other two. He gave the unconscious one a kick in the ribs, guaranteeing them broken. The one with the broken leg scooted away.

"Please, don't hurt me anymore. I'm sorry, I didn't mean nothing by it."

"You didn't mean anything by it! You were just going to rape that girl!"

Peter started in on the guy. When he had finished he saw there was blood splattered around on the concrete. He looked at his gloves, sopping wet with blood and only masked by the black color. The man was moaning. Peter shot a web up the building and swung his way home.