Hey folks. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas! Thanks for being patient, and sorry for the long wait. We wanted to do our best for you so, we hope you enjoy. Here's part 2! :)

Written by city-creek. Edited by AliciaRoseFantasy.

Made with love :)


The applause of rain pounded on the concrete roofs of New York City. The early summer air filled with a sweet and sticky combination of humidity and rising street fumes from far below. Through all the downpour, civilians taking shelter in their high-rise apartments could barely make out the iconic red and blue shape in the distance outside their windows, struggling to jump between the large gaps of buildings.

Spidey's day just wasn't getting any better.

It was on days like this that his concentration would falter in even the most necessary of situations. He was never one for water, or for swimming. He was never a born aquatic. But his aversion to the wet substance seemed to increase tenfold come that fateful day of the spider bite.

He had sensed it that morning—as he stuck his head out of his apartment complex window to check if the coast was clear, before heading out on patrol. It didn't take his instinctive sixth sense to know today would have some nasty downpours. But his dedication to protecting New York always proved stronger. And because of this, the city's favourite web-slinger would always be seen patrolling in rain, wind, sleet and snow, no matter the weather.

"Just great! Another sticky day in the city I suppose," Spidey mused under his breath, twisting and twirling with unmistakable grace above the city streets.

Some citizens cheered him on, and greeted him with awe as he swung past at breakneck speed. Some tried to shout at him to get off the streets. Unsurprisingly, most of those with the negative view of Spidey's regular patrols had a tendency to favour the Daily Bugle as their morning newspaper of choice.

He'd learned to filter out those negative vibes, yet the words always stung him. And the subtle threats and insults seemed to set off his spider-sense on an almost minute level, as if the sting of pain from those hurtful words had come to affect him physically as well as emotionally.

But a stronger tug of his sense suddenly ripped his attention away from the comments of the public, and towards a seemingly deserted alleyway to his right.

Landing on a light pole, earning some jumps and stares from the people below, Spidey surveyed the scene. A popular street for tourists, muggings and thefts in this area were far from uncommon, but there was a negative aura coming off from inside that alley. Something was different, he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Linda? Linda, where are you?" a voice called from below. Spidey's attention suddenly darted to a middle-aged man in his late thirties to forties with spectacle glasses, early greying hair and a roman nose, pushing against the natural flow of the crowd in an attempt to find his missing person.

"Hi. Hello there, sir! There somethin' I can help you with?" the webbed hero quipped from above the man's head. Said man startled and looked up, only to see the all too familiar and recognizable bug eyes of Spider-Man. The movement was followed by an exasperated exclamation of, "Oh, goodness, my heart!"

It took a moment for the man to compose himself, slightly intimidated by the anonymous and powerful figure looming above him—his head darting and tilting in short and curious bursts, in an almost insect-like manner.

"My apologies, Spider-Man. I've only seen you in videos and photos. I can't find my daughter, Linda. She's just sixteen years old. Would you be able to help me out?"

Spidey tilted his head and his bug eyes squinted towards the alleyway. Jumping down, he landed with a soft thud on all fours on the concrete in front of him. "I think that won't be a problem, sir," he said, nodding towards the man. He stood up. "When did you last see her?"

The man sighed in response.

"She was right there, behind me, not even five minutes ago. She never does this, never! Especially when we are visiting new places. Something just doesn't feel right."

During the conversation, Spider-Man hadn't taken his eyes off the alley. The tug was getting stronger, more urgent. Something was telling him, screaming at him to investigate, and now.

"No. It doesn't," he said lowly, in almost a whisper.

Tucking himself back into a four-legged crouch, and turning to the worried man, he reassured him, "I'll be back, I promise you."

With amazed gasps from onlookers, he propelled his leg muscles, and in one bound cleared the busy street of cars, landing on the other side of the sidewalk and leaping again onto the wall to stealthily survey what was worrying him so much.

The alley was long, empty and abandoned, seemingly too dangerous for even the roughest of New York City's homeless. Syringes and old shattered glass bottles littered the floor. Spidey crept along the wall, leaping quietly and stealthily from side to side, attempting to gain a better vantage point to see and not be seen.

Turning a left corner, it was there he saw it. A rose gold iPhone, shattered on the ground—the pink, glittery cover offering little protection against whoever had damaged it. On the side, a little heart-shaped keyring hung. The faded name "Linda" could barely be made out on the dangling rubber material.

"Oh no," Spidey gasped softly, picking up the delicate device with both hands as if scooping up a baby animal, for fear of hurting it further. Looking out into the alley where the busy streets connected once again, the tug of urgency was fading, getting further and further away.

Behind him, he felt the soft vibrations of footsteps heading towards him—two people. But he did not turn around, for his spider-sense told him they were of no danger. Linda's father cried out at the sight of the unmistakable pink and golden phone in Spidey's hand, delicately taking the item from the web-slinger.

His weak knees buckled from beneath him, holding the keepsake to his chest.

"Who could have done this to my sweet Linda?" he sobbed.

Spidey couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. If he had only gotten here sooner...maybe he would have stopped her before this happened. As he held his head down in shame, another voice perked up.

"Do you think it was those traffickers, Spidey?" a bystander, who happened to have curiously followed after the commotion he and Linda's father had made, said. His voice was soft and foreboding, as if only for Spidey's ears, trying to keep the information and reality away from the grieving father.

"Traffickers?" Spidey questioned, head turning towards the bystander in a slight tilt.

The man nodded solemnly. "Yeah, it's been all over the papers lately. There's this crime gang in the city that the police have been trying to nab. They're preying on young unsuspecting women and teenagers; a lot of them are tourists from outside the city, so they can't be tracked as quickly and easily. I've heard they lure them in somehow, kidnap them and have found a way to export them to other countries."

"Oh my God," Spidey breathed, taken aback from this horrifying development. "Why didn't I know about this sooner?" He hung his head down, eyes closed and shaking in shame.

"Hey, hey, Spidey. It wasn't your fault! There's nothing you can do now. It's okay." The bystander comforted, putting a hand of support on the web-slinger's shoulder.

It was then he felt that instinctive tug, almost invisible now. But it was trying to tell him something, almost as if it was trying to guide him somewhere. He couldn't believe he was going to try this, but something in his gut told him he needed to trust his instincts.

"I think there is something I can do…" Spidey replied. The bystander jolted up in surprise at his comment. "You think you can look after Linda's father for a bit for me? Take him to a police station and alert them to what's happened."

"Of course I will, Webhead. But are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"I have a hunch..." responded Spidey, shrugging his shoulders meekly. And without another word, he was bounding onto the rooftops and swinging in the direction of the call...


It was like a compass in his brain telling him where to go. He was comparing it to those nature documentaries he would watch as a kid, where they would track down the animals they tagged with a little satellite that would beep faster the closer they got.

The tug pulled on him, and Spider-Man found himself swerving right onto a new street. The feeling was getting stronger now, almost unbearable. It's when the more familiar spider-sense buzzed off below him, towards a black van, that he knew he'd found his destination.

His gut feeling told him to follow the vehicle to the other side of the city.

Switching from swinging to more stealthily following on the rooftops, he chased after the black van. And as night fell, it wasn't until another twenty minutes later that an out of breath Spidey saw the vehicle reach its destination: a run down and abandoned pier beside the water, near a warehouse, with a medium-sized black and white boat docked beside it.

"Here goes nothing," he exclaimed, before disconnecting from his webs, and with his signature backflip, diving towards the warehouse, landing softly on the roof with experienced precision. Using his enhanced vision and hearing, he peered effortlessly through a leaking hole in the roof down below him. The sight rocked him to his core.

Cages. Rows of nearly a dozen cages where what looked like a group of people from young teenagers to older adults were being kept. Beside each cage a pair of mercenaries guarded either side of the doors to prevent any escape or interference from anyone inside, or outside.

"How were they getting away with this for so long? There must be so many people down there!" whispered Spidey. It was when he zoomed in and focused, that he noticed many had the physical features of being homeless, or runaways.

People who wouldn't be immediately noticed if they went missing….

That's when the realization hit. How dare they take advantage of these poor innocent people in disadvantaged situations. How dare they torture and harm children, sending them to God knows where. It took him a minute to steady his breathing and control himself.

"This ends now," he gritted out, finally leaping through the hole in the roof, and landing on top of the middle cage with a clanging thud, muscles clenched.

Mercenaries and captives alike startled at the sound and turned back to see the iconic figure crouched above them, eyes squinted in a menacing and predatory glare.

"Isn't it rude to keep secrets from each other? How long have you been hiding this from me?" he hissed out, head lowering towards the henchmen in an unusually threatening manner. Teeth bared beneath his mask.

The normally fearless mercenaries sensed something different and enraged about the usually cool-headed demeanour of Spider-Man, taking a few steps back, guns drawn and quivering. It was clear they never really thought they'd be found; convinced they had left no traces or clues.

"How the hell did you find us? We left nothing behind. You freak!" The head mercenary roared out.

"I trusted my gut," he responded coolly, and with a flying kick and a flurry of webs, disarmed the leader before he could even put his finger on the trigger.

Holding his finger down on the web shooter, his webs flew out in every direction towards the remaining mercenaries, latching on to their guns, before he pulled with his arms.

Spidey's strength ripped the offending weapons out of their grasp, the sheer impact of the guns smashing against the ground rendering them useless for any form of combat.

Spidey let every instinct inside of him run loose as he darted from side to side to avoid the kicks and punches of the thugs, weaving and twirling. His bug eyes glinted menacingly like a predator teasing its prey, silhouettes against the moonlight. Wrapping them all in one large cocoon, he dangled them helplessly in the air, suspended from the rooftop.

Feeling satisfied his enemies were apprehended, he turned towards the cages. The group of young tourists and civilians of New York huddled in fear at the dark and looming figure that had just saved them. It took them a moment to calm, but their muscles relaxed as he webbed the doors of each cage, and ripped them off their hinges, freeing them.

"You're safe now. Stay here while I contact the police, they'll have you all reunited with your families or support centres shortly, I promise you."

"Thank you. Thank you so much, Spidey. You're our hero!" a young teenager cried out, his arms holding onto a younger little girl he had bonded with during his time in captivity.

"It's no problem at all. Is anyone here called Linda, by the way?" Spider-Man called out to the group of people.

"Uh, no, we don't have a Linda here from what we know", was said. A chorus of muttering followed among the previously captured, for whoever was called Linda.

It was then the alarm of his spider-sense screamed in his head again, and he spun around towards the dock in the distance, to see the black van—the driver holding a pistol to the head of a young teenage girl, terrified and crying.

"Come near, and bad things are gonna happen," the brute seethed.

Using Spidey's utter shock and horror to his advantage, he grabbed the young girl effortlessly and carried her onto the boat, attempting to start the engine. Snapping out of his stupor, the web-slinger flung himself forward towards the dock in an effort to save Linda before the man took off into uncharted waters, never to be seen again.

As the thug turned the key, the engine roaring to life, Linda, using his distraction to her own advantage, managed to swivel her head from his grip, and bite down on his wrist, hard. Her captor roared out in pain and grabbing his arm, released his grip on the girl. She stumbled to the other side of the boat in an attempt to get as far away from her attacker as possible.

Amongst all this chaos, Spidey jumped across the gap of the pier to the boat, landing and throwing a punch at the man— a direct blow to the head, instantly knocking him out. His head slumped forward against the accelerator.

Both Spider-Man and Linda were thrown back as the boat sped straight towards the rocks, scraping against the edge at breakneck speed and capsizing completely over beside the pier.

All three fell into the deep and murky depths…


He couldn't breathe. All he saw was darkness—water filling his mask and nose. He felt his muscles and bones freezing up from the shock, and the horrifying feeling of helplessly sinking to the bottom below. Why couldn't he move his arms or legs? Why couldn't he even try to struggle to the surface?

He closed his eyes in defeat. Is this the end of me? How could I die from something so stupid? What about Linda? Is she okay? Oh no, Aunt May. I'm so, so sorry, he cried out in his mind, black spots filling his vision before beginning to fall into unconsciousness.

It was at the final moment before everything went black and he lost all feeling, that he felt a small arm tug him towards the surface, the moonlight above getting stronger and brighter. He could just see it! Breaking the surface tension of the water he gasped a sweet, sweet breath of air.

He coughed up murky water from his tired and abused lungs, pulling his waterlogged mask to his nose, before struggling to the rocky shore beside the warehouse, collapsing on his chest, and momentarily passing out.


He could see the blue and red flashes of the police sirens close by. Someone must have called about the commotion, or maybe one of the hostages he had saved rang them. He didn't know.

His sore muscles ached. He'd definitely have some bruises in the morning.

Painfully twisting his head to the right, his chin scraping against the smooth stones, he saw the figure of the unconscious thug, and Linda kneeling beside him, smiling, and closing her eyes in relief at having saved the webbed hero.

"I'm training to be an Olympic swimmer someday. Who knew it would be so helpful?" she giggled shyly, scratching the back of her head awkwardly.

"You saved my life, Linda…" nodded Spidey in appreciation, taken aback. Linda took in the reality of what she had done, tears welling in her eyes, but she never let them fall. Giving her his hand, she took it, hauling his soaking body onto two feet. He pulled his now drier mask down and, limping slightly, moved back towards the warehouse.

Police and the saved civilians alike clapped and cheered at their safe return as he hobbled into the shelter of the warehouse.

The chief of police was there to greet him, nodding his head in wholehearted appreciation.

"We should have told you what was happening sooner, Webs. If it wasn't for you, who knows where these people would be on a boat to by now. I promise that we'll let you know if any cases like this come up in future for you to help us with," he spoke, bowing his head in finality.

"Linda's father has been called, as well as the families of everybody else here. He will be here with us shortly," another officer added, before turning away again, to further tend to the rescued.

The creases of an honoured smile rose from underneath his mask, and Spidey once again pulled the fabric just above his nose to get some air other than the smell of dirty, New York water, thus exposing his giant grin for all to see.

He smiled towards Linda, and kneeled in front of the girl, who had sat down from exhaustion on the cold floor.

"You know, swimming was never my best event," the wall-crawler chuckled, teeth glinting in a genuine smile against the moonlight.

"Come here you big dope!" she giggled. It was then that our webbed hero was taken aback as Linda lunged forward, embracing him in a tight hug.

He closed his eyes against her thankful embrace, relaxing his sore muscles and hugging her tightly in return. She was safe now, so was everybody else, and that was all that mattered.

It was then he felt it, that familiar vibrating sound that he gave once before in a moment of genuine affection and embrace. The entire room stilled and focused in on him.

His skin prickled as he vibrated in a loud and resounding purr across the room. His eyes snapped open and he released from her hug awkwardly. Linda let out a wholesome laugh at the response.

"Dude, you purr?" she exclaimed, with what Spidey could only describe as a "Cheshire grin". Oh boy, would he get teasing for this from the force in future: he'd never live it down.

"Uh...yeah, I...I guess? It doesn't happen often. I mean…I've been trying to avoid hugging people because I can't control it, and I—" Spidey stammered awkwardly, trailing off and standing up in an attempt to shake off the embarrassment. But everyone just smiled at him, rolling their eyes and one of the younger girls giggled, "That's our Spidey!"

"And here I thought it was just a rumour floating around since the flower shop incident," chortled the chief of police, starting back towards his car. "Somebody get a towel, and dry them off for goodness sakes!"


As Linda waited for her father to arrive, she sat beside her webbed hero, both watching the moon set against the horizon, and the pinks and reds of morning greeting them.

It was after that long night that he never again felt quite so afraid of people hugging or embracing him in thanks for his heroic actions. Spider-Man was New York's favourite and most quirky hero, and he knew those who supported him would love him no matter what unique spidery features he would have.

He lifted his head towards the rising sun and smiled.


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