Author's Notes: New Chapter! Enjoy guys it's a long important one. Hope you like ;)


Chapter Four: You are mine and I am yours

Peter huffed in defeat as he let his neck muscles loosen and gravity pull his forehead down to the desk with a thump. Bunched up around his feet and the plastic wheels of his desk chair was his Spiderman suit. It was the same suit he wore when fighting Curt Connors during his lizard metamorphosis and Ganali attempt to change the genetic makeup of humans, tailored to the cold blooded. He'd thanked Gwen immensely for her bravery of staying inside OSCORP tower despite the Lizard being there too – and despite disobeying what Peter told her to do - , and for developing a cure for his bio-chemical weapon. She was amazing.

He lifted his head from the table and stared down into the eyes of his Spidey mask. The golden reflective lenses were chipped and cracked, the honeycomb pattern within them dashed and split. The red scale-like fabric was torn and frayed, even charred in some darkened spots. The blue was beginning to tear away from its seams, and the sculpted black spider on the suit's pectorals was slowly peeling off. Needless to say, the suit was on its last legs. He needed to make a new one, a better one.

The miraculous irony of Peter Parker was that he could build small compact Biocable slingers for both wrists, yet had trouble grasping the concept of stitching. It was a miracle the suit survived the combat with Connors, let alone the months afterwards, fighting criminals with knives, guns and even rabid dogs.

Peter scooped up the mask and sighed, running his finger tip along one of the chipped lenses. He held the mask tight and stretched it slightly, looking at the black webbing patterns peeling off the red spandex.

He needed help, but couldn't ask Aunt May. He shuddered at how that conversation would go.

Hey Aunt May, can you help me fix my Spiderman suit?

What?!

He ran a hand through his long hair and puffed air from his dry lips. Dropping the mask on the desk face down, he got up from his chair quickly, leaving it to spin a few times on its hinge. He picked up his suit, holding it up before him. The bright light from outside the window seeped through the holes, tears and rips across the red and blue suit. Like dust filled fingers of light, the beams poked through the suit revealing its worn sorrowful state. He could only ask one other person, and he said once again that he'd see her on Christmas Eve...which is tomorrow.

He gulped and sighed, shaking his head. He needed a new suit, and Gwen was smart, brilliant and definitely good with designs.

A few weeks after developing his new found Spider powers, during English class, he peered over Gwen's shoulder and saw her idly sketching away at the corner of her pad. She was distracted, which was new, since Gwen Stacy always paid attention.

By this point Peter was still on the hunt for Ben's killer, donning a red balaclava with sunglasses as his disguise. He narrowed his eyes at the small Biro drawing of a red and blue man. Something about it stuck and he left school that day content on the design for his new suit, his new persona...the face of Spiderman.

Back to the present, he flung the now ruined suit on his bed and flicked open his phone. He clicked a few buttons and before too long had the phone pressed to his ear.

"Come on, come on, pick up, pick up, pick up..." he whispered, almost mimed.

One dial tone, two dial tone, three-

"Peter? What's up?" Gwen asked. He sighed contently with a smile at her soft voice and shrugged, even though she couldn't see.

"N-nothing, just wondering-what are you up to?" Peter tripped over his words.

"Right now? Nothing much. Picked out my dress for my Aunts wedding." she said in a nonchalant tone of voice. Peter grinned and sat on his bed, flicking his free hand at the frayed and ruined spider suit.

"Oh yeah? You like it?" he asked, rubbing the underside of his jaw line.

"Urgh." Gwen mumbled on the line with disgust.

"Urgh? Why urgh?" Peter laughed, falling back on his bed with a smile, phone still to his ear.

"I look like some kind of...cotton candy disaster! Why do the bridesmaids have to where pink, of all colours!" she moaned. Peter cackled and shot a web from under his Hoodie sleeve to the can on his desk, reeling it back and into his free left hand.

"Cotton...Candy...disaster? That's what you chose to go with?" He grinned while his chest vibrated with laughter.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't have the...the...the dictionary of Cotton candy insults!" Gwen sarcastically laughed down the phone. Peter giggled and shook his head as his grin spread. He cracked the can open and swigged it back, gulping while Gwen talked.

"I'm sure you look beautiful." He said, receiving silence.

"Thank you Peter. But you know how much I hate pink. I hate wearing dresses, let along pink ones!"

"See, I don't get that." He sat up, shaking his head with the phone.

"Get what?" She asked incredulously.

"You don't like wearing dresses. I remember seeing you in that dress you wore for prom. You looked stunning."

"Urgh. It hugs my hips too tight!" She moaned. Peter laughed and sighed at her.

"You looked gorgeous Gwen." He took a moment to change the tone of the conversation. "Hey, how'd you think I feel?"

"Whah?"

"Well the Spidey suit hugs everything too tight." He said, Gwen suffering fits of giggles on the phone. He smiled feeling his work was done. Making Gwen laugh was a gift in its own. He sighed and let her laughing calm down. "Hey Gwen, I...I have a favor to ask. A-About the Spidey suit actually." He muttered, setting his can down and picking up the frayed suit, rubbing the fabric between finger and thumb.

"Oh? What's up?" she asked. He shrugged again- even though Gwen couldn't see the response.

"It's in bad shape. Torn, blood stained...just awful."

"Seen better days huh?" Gwen chuckled with a yawn, the sound of her high pitched moan while stretching caught his ear.

"Yeah, you could say that. I was wondering...since I'm no good with this stuff...stitching and fabric..."

"Yeah...?" Gwen spoke softly.

"Y-You maybe wanna come round and help me make the new suit?" He asked, hand drumming against his thigh.

"You want me to help make the new Spiderman suit?" Gwen asked, obviously taken back by the request. Peter nodded, slapping himself mentally for the dumb act of making physical gestures to a damn phone.

"Y-Yeah. I mean his love interest should get a say in it, right?" He smiled, shrugging to himself. He bit his lip and waited for the deathly silence to end.

"I'll be right over!" Gwen said with an obvious smile. He huffed with a content grin and looked at his feet. Between them was a large cardboard box filled with new red and blue fabrics, along with other miscellaneous supplies.

"Great. See you soon. Love you." He said softly.

"Love you too." She said back in that husky smoky voice he loved so much, the voice that could only belong to the one and only Gwen Stacy. The call ended and he fell back with a love struck smile on his face.

Suddenly his Spidey sense flared and he quickly webbed his old suit into his hands and threw it into his closet, kicking the box of new clothes into it with the side of his foot. He webbed the door shut and ripped all the streaks of Biocable down, baling them up in his hands.

Just as the door to his room unlocked he threw the web ball he'd made into the trash can, sitting with his hands in his lap as Aunt May stepped in.

"Peter Parker, what have I told you about leaving your clothes on the floor!" May scolded, hands on hips as a silvery black lock fell into her vision. She adjusted her glasses and bent down to pick up the shirt. Peter picked it up first, limberly bending down before her and holding it to his chest.

"I got it, I got it. Sorry Aunt May." He smiled bashfully. She stood up, him still dwarfing the small woman. She dropped her assault and smiled, chuckling weakly.

"Your Uncle Ben used to say the same thing: "I got it" seemed to be his excuse for forgetting to do anything!" She faintly laughed at the memory. Peter smiled and set the shirt on his bed. "One time he forgot to pick up a loaf of bread – this was years and years ago – and the moment I mentioned getting it myself, he shot up, "I got it, I got it." He'd chant." She laughed gently, Peter smiling at her being happy in memories, even for a moment. "Oh...a great man. Course he'd say "I got it" then come home and-

"He'd forgotten it again?" Peter smiled sadly yet happily to her. She gave a flick of her index finger with a proud smile.

"He'd forgotten it again, exactly. Ah, your Uncle Ben was a wonderful man. I miss him every day." She smiled sadly at Peter. He offered his arms out and hugged his dear old Aunt. She gave him a squeeze and let go, wiping the corners of her eyes gently.

"So do I. Y-You know Aunt May, he said something to me once, that only now am I...you know, understanding." He shrugged.

"What's that?" She sniffed and smiled at him.

"With great power, comes great responsibility." Peter said with a proud smile on his lips.

"He was a wise old thing." She chuckled weakly, adjusting her glasses. Peter puffed air through his nostrils in a faint laugh. The two stood in comfortable silence for a moment, Aunt May's eyes scanning Peter's room. She snapped her vision back on him, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Well...I best be off. I have to nip out for a while, you'll be okay?" she asked in a serious tone.

"I'm sure I can manage Aunt May." Peter chuckled at her. She nodded and sighed happily.

"I forget you aren't a small boy anymore. You're all grown up...my hero." She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek. He smiled at her.

"Yeah...I try." He chuckled at her. Intent on changing the mood, Aunt May pat his cheek and lowered her hand.

"Well, I'll be out for a few hours. I'll see you later tonight?" She asked, knowing the answer. Peter shrugged, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"I was thinking of inviting Gwen over for dinner. That cool?" he winced. May smiled happily in the doorway.

"Sounds wonderful. You find out what she likes and we'll do something special."

"Thanks Aunt May. Hey Aunt May?" He asked her, eyebrows furrowed in thought. She looked at him with a motherly compassion. "You think Uncle Ben would be proud of me?" He asked with a gulp.

Feeling guilt over the night Ben perished; Peter always beat his mind black and blue over the idea that Ben would be disappointed. Deep down he knew that wonderful man could never be disappointed in Peter, but he needed to hear it in words. May smiled warmly and even slightly sadly.

"Peter Parker!" Aunt May said sternly, Peter raising his doe eyes. "He always has been, and always will be. He once said, no matter what you choose to do with your life, good or bad...we'd always be proud of you, Peter."

"Thanks. Just...needed a little encouraging." He chuckled weakly, eyeing the floor. May nodded and tucked a silver lock behind her ear.

"We all do sometimes. But never, ever think that."

"I won't again. Thanks."

"Well make sure of it. I'm sure Gwen has her hands full as it is with one of the Parker boys." She chuckled, making Peter laugh. "How is she?" Aunt May asked, stepping back into the room slightly, floorboards creaking. Peter shrugged, wetting his lips.

"She...She's alright. Had a few late night phone-calls with her." He said gently. May raised an eyebrow. "Nightmares." Peter explained further. May nodded suddenly in understanding.

"Oh bless her little soul. A lot to go through, losing a parent."

"I know." Peter nodded to her. May smiled and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze.

"You look after that one. She's a keeper, Peter Parker." May pointed an accusing finger at his nose, making him laugh a toothy grin.

"Yeah, she is."

"And make sure...just...when you both get a little..." Aunt May rambled, trying pluck the right words out of the air.

"What are you...?" Peter raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"I'm just saying, teenagers and their hormones. Gwen is a very pretty girl and-"

"Aunt May, jeez!" Peter huffed at her. She raised her hands in defense.

"I'm just saying, make sure you wear protection."

"Oh god, oh god it doesn't end." Peter slumped to the floor, folding into a ball. Aunt May chuckled but continued her lecture on safe sex.

"I mean, there are other ways to...have fun that don't end in teenage pregnancy!"

"Weren't you going out?" came a muffled voice from the balled up Hoodie on the floor, Peter's knees folded into his chest. Aunt May laughed faintly at him on the floor and bent down, patting his shoulder.

"Just...be sensible."

"Uh-huh." A muffled voice droned back. Aunt May paced out of the room.

"See you later tonight!" she called from the staircase.

"Love you!" He hollered as she wondered out of his room.

"You too!" She called from the bottom of the stairs. Peter stood up from the floor and gently shut his door, activated his mechanical door lock with a whir and pulled out the box of new fabrics and materials, all waiting to become an iconic suit. He lifted the soft and stretchy red fabric, along with the blue, seeing the colors blend together in his hands. He pushed the fabrics aside and pulled out the wad of A4 paper, all having different suit sketches over them.

One of the sketches was of a black Spiderman suit with a large white spider emblem on the chest. Peter felt it was too...alien, as if it had come from outer space. Another design was of a Spidey suit with webbed wings at the armpits. He scrunched it up and threw it in his trashcan. Peter felt that it was too...winged Squirrel looking.

Peter heard the front door shut from downstairs and knew he was now home alone. He felt for Aunt May. The poor woman has to lose her Uncle and almost her own boy. Peter's self destruction after Ben's passing didn't help her at all and he felt guilty for how he acted. He was there for her though from there on, and so was Gwen. May and Gwen seemed to help each other. Gwen helped with Ben, May with Captain Stacy. Peter felt left out. At least they had closure in a way. Peter still had no idea what happened to his Parents. He wanted the truth.

Peter sat up sharply as a jolt shot through his spine. A tingling sensation crawled up his vertebrae, coincidentally almost like a spider on his skin. He quickly grabbed his worn old suit without a second thought, donning over his muscular physique. Despite the rips and tears that his cream skinned muscles bulged through, he wore the battle damaged Spiderman suit with pride. He clenched his fists, activated his wrist web launchers and grabbed his mask. The golden eyes although cracked and chipped were still Spiderman's eyes, and they had seen it all with him so far: Connors, Oscorp. They could see one last outing. He had to know what caused such a sharp tingle to his senses.

He pulled the red mask over his head, a cut along the scalp of the fabric seam letting his puffy hair flay through the small hole. He sighed and walked over to his window, creeping it open and peering left and right. Happy that the cost was clear, he shot a web out to the next building and vaulted out of his window, feeling the cold air lick his revealed skin through the cuts and holes in the damaged suit.

He shot another Biocable and swung to the left, ducking around street lamps. Without the tall skyline of Manhattan to swing around, it was difficult for Spiderman to manoeuvre.

...

He swung upwards and landed on a traffic light, bouncing on the flexing metal slightly. As he perched, his Spidey sense flashed again and he peered down instinctively to the old lady by the side of the road.

"Aunt May." He breathed. He peered up sharply to see the cause of his sharp migraine inducing Spider flashes: A speeding muscle car, roof down and a long blonde haired man at the wheel. He aimed back over his shoulder and let off several loud bursts of an automatic pistol. The Police cars that rounded the corner in pursuit ground to a halt as the bullets rained down on them.

With his eyes off the road and the speed he was going, this lunatic was going to mount the curb and hit Aunt May. Peter leaped down off the light, grabbing Aunt May with a web and pulling her towards him, safely out of harm's way. She bounced against his chest with a scream and he clutched her tight as the car bounced up the curb and sped onwards towards Manhattan.

May stepped back, catching her breath. "Oh...Thank you."

"No problem." Peter shrugged, disguising his voice slightly. "Be careful out there, okay?" Peter said. May nodded with a smile as she caught her breath in her throat. With that, Spiderman webbed to the next traffic light and swung off in chase with the NYPD. Red lights flashed to blue and repeated the cycle.

Before too long Peter was back in his element as the skyline of Manhattan grew taller. He was swinging high above the high octane chase. As he peered below at the vertigo inducing drop, he watched the black muscle car weave in and out of traffic, scraping black paint against yellow on Taxi Cab after Taxi Cab.

Quickly Peter shot two webs, both arms stretched out, pulling sharply on them and flinging him forwards, arms held out at his side as he dived towards the concrete jungle below. He shot a cable last second, attaching to one of the metal trees in this skyscraper forest, swooping down between Taxi Cabs.

The police were struggling to keep up with the speeding escapee, traffic jams blocking all paths. Peter however wasn't affected by traffic. Gunfire on the other hand...

As he grew nearer to the black mustang that was attempted to escape, the man locked onto Peter, aiming his automatic pistol and unleashing a hailstorm of bullets at him. Peter pulled up sharply on the cable, swinging and somersaulting through the air, all the bullets whizzing by him.

He latched another web to a nearby flagpole, swinging with full momentum towards the car. He released the cable and landed with a thump on the back of the mustang, hands digging into the squishy leather flesh of the backseats.

Startled, the criminal peered over his shoulder and then back to the road, the long greasy blonde hair on his head masking his face. "Pull over!" Peter ordered, hanging onto the weaving car that was obviously trying to shake him off. They ran a red light, narrowly missing a few cabs and a garbage truck. Horns honked and tires screeched.

The man at the wheel aimed his pistol over his shoulder again at Spiderman. Peter leaped off the car, somersaulting and pressing his palms to the metal curve of the car trunk. He pushed off and ended up creating quite the distance between himself and the escaping car.

Quickly he swirled through the air, narrowly missing the bullet rain. Before gravity slammed Peter into the speeding Tarmac below him, he shot a web upwards to the side of the nearby tower. He swung up, pressing his feet to a police car hood and pushing up, giving himself some distance from the floor. He shot another cable now he was at a happy swinging height, scanning the city of millions of human ants, yellow cabs masking the back car. Finally his cracked and chipped lenses locked onto the car and he swung towards it. The maniac was getting away, and endangering lives. Peter snarled a hidden lip and lunged upwards, arching his spine as he let go of the cable and began his free fall, launching another cable and swinging upwards again.

"Okay, time to try my new trick...here we go Pete!" Spiderman mumbled to himself as he swung up towards the sky, grey and blue filling his vision. As he reached the optimum height and before gravity hauled him to the ground, he shot two webs, each latching downwards atop to short structures. As the cables stretched and taught, he pulled himself down sharply and reached terminal velocity in seconds, pencil diving towards the car in question.

"INCOMING!" Peter hollered, making the nervous escapee peer up at the sun blaring sky. His sunglasses masked the light to some degree, but not the sight of the silhouetted Spiderman diving towards him. He gasped and gritted his teeth as he raised the gun towards the sky.

Peter rolled through the air and slammed down on the hood of the car with a bang, his knee denting and crumpling the black metal. The man growled in anger and aimed the gun at the windshield, firing through it, bullets cutting the glass to tiny sharp ribbons. Peter rolled across the hood and into the passenger. He sat beside the criminal, startling him.

"You maybe wanna pull over? There's a Starbucks just round this corner, you thirsty?" Peter mocked, resting his arm on the door frame and tapping his other on his thigh, sat comfortable in the passenger seat. The man had trouble keeping his eyes on the road, and Spiderman. With a free hand off the wheel he reloaded the pistol, sliding a fresh magazine in. Peter huffed, at the man struggling to cock the gun with one hand.

"Wanna hand?" Peter said, reaching across and holding the steering wheel with one hand. The man dropped both hands from the wheel and focused on pulling the slider of the gun back with a click.

"See? Wasn't so hard huh?" Peter sarcastically congratulated before webbing the gun from his hands to a passing lamppost.

"Hey!" the man snarled.

"Pee-yoo!" Man, that is a bad case of the beer breath you got there. Wait...you over the limit? Oh that's why the cops want you; nothing to do with the five big old bags of cash in the back huh?" Peter chuckled, shaking his red masked head. Suddenly the man punched Peter in the face and the door flung open, Spiderman falling out and rolling along the tarmac.

Quickly Peter got up and shook his head, shooting two webs onto the back of the escaping car. He shot forward and lunged up into the air, using the momentum of the speeding car to land on the back of the vehicle again.

"Okay, now you've pissed me off." Peter said, leaping onto the back of the driver's side seat, reaching over and grabbing the wheel, turning it to the left. The car screeched and turned wildly. The criminal in the seat flung his head back and cracked it against Spiderman's head. Peter shook his head and continued to lead the car out of Manhattan towards the Manhattan Bridge.

The huge suspended structure of silver metal and iron beams stood tall and broad across the large East river. Just as the speeding car raced onto the bridge, the man swung his arm up and knocked Peter off the car. He shot a web to one of the tall suspended cables and swung around the outside of the bridge, using the moment to time his return with the speeding car. He let go of the web, swinging his body past the thick metal cables and landed with a thump atop the car again.

"I'm back!" Peter cheered; punching his fist down onto the steering wheel and ripping it clean off, throwing it over his shoulder. The man roared in anger and punched widely, each hit missing Peter.

Peter grabbed the flailing wrist and pulled it up. "Now what are you gonna do huh? I got your..." Peter almost went into shock when he looked at the blonde haired man's wrist.

Star tattoo, plain as day in black ink on the wrist. Peter's vision went blurry, his hearing was muffled, only the heavy thumping of his heart rattling his eardrums. He peered over at the man's face. The gritted teeth, windswept hair and cracked sunglasses, he remembered it all. This was Uncle Ben's killer.

"You..." Peter snarled, squeezing the man's wrist till it went pale. The man cried out and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The out of control car ducked and weaved passed cars on the bridge. Peter squeezed harder and harder till a blood curdling snap echoed from the joint. The man roared in pain and pulled out a flick knife from his pocket. Suddenly all of Peter's smart aleck comments were no more, totally focused in all seriousness on the man before him in the speeding car. Peter reeled his fist back and punched the murderer's face till the head jerked back with blood streaking his nose.

Again and again Peter punched the man, no remorse. Suddenly a vehicle horn blared and Peter looked up to see they had weaved onto the wrong side of the bridge. A bus was inches away and there was no time to move. He'd ignored his Spidey sense warnings, he didn't even feel them jolt and chill his spine.

Peter somersaulted off the car just as it clipped the side of the bus, going upwards into the air. Metal sprayed and the Bus slammed to a stop as its hood was crushed and broken. The mustang somersaulted through the air midst a spray of debris and ripped tire rubber. As the car swirled through the air, Peter slammed into the road and bounced across it till finally coming to a stop, embedded in a Taxi windscreen. Peter rested his head back on the smashed glass and his eyes shut with exhaustion.

...

Peter awoke moments later to the pale light of afternoon breaching his smashed lenses. He groaned and sat up from the car windscreen he'd caved in. He rubbed his forehead, feeling the tuft of hair that poked through the hole in his mask. He peered around and laid eyes on the damaged bus. People were stepping off the bus, holding wounds and cotton bandages to red sticky foreheads. Ambulances wailed in the distance.

Peter got up off the car, landing on his feet with a prickly sensation, like thousands of fiery ants crawling over his legs. He limped over to the smashed Bus. People looked up in awe, some in anger.

"Ah...argh...are you all okay?" Peter winced, rubbing his head. People nodded, some sat together huddled in emergency blankets.

"Could have been worse. Thanks." The driver smiled weakly as he held a red soaked tissue to his nose. Peter nodded weakly and walked through the injured crowd, getting death glares and smiling thanks, a torn group, all with different views on Spiderman.

Peter then saw it: The black mustang upside down and balanced precariously over the edge of the bridge, teetering on the brink of falling to certain demise. The smashed up and crumpled metal of the vehicle groaned and hissed as air breaks and gas escaped canisters and punctured tires. Flames licked and lapped at the dented and sunken engine block.

He limped towards the car, hopping over a hand rail, then stepping over another one, crushed by the somersaulting car. Peter stepped over smashed car parts and torn leather upholstery. Peter pressed his palm against the steel of the last guardrail and hopped over it, wincing as a lick of fire shot up his abdominal muscles. A thick sludge of lactic acid had pooled in his Lat-dominant muscles and biceps.

He limped over to the upside down car that was teetering on its axis. The trunk hanging over the concrete and metal cliff, the hood lifted slightly from the safety of the bridges tarmac. Broken and splayed hand guards and railings pooled around the car as it had smashed through them all. Peter looked down and snarled his lip at the trembling hand that was outstretched from the broken off door of the upturned car, a star tattoo on the broken wrist.

Blonde hair matted with dry blood stuck out from the crushing seats and bags of melted money. The murderer – Uncle Ben's murderer – peered up at Peter through smashed and cracked sunglasses. Peter sighed and looked around, seeing nobody on the bridge but them, all having been ushered off by Police.

"P-Please...t-t-take my hand." The man stuttered, spitting blood onto the floor. the creases in his face and arch of his bony structure gave evidence of heavy drug use, his constant sniffing another sign. He was scum, and Peter was going to have to save this man.

Uncle Ben wouldn't want this...You're Spiderman, save him.

Suddenly the car slid towards the edge with a metallic groan, the man crying out as he tried to undo the seat belt that held him to the lead weight. The hands of broken metal railings cupped the car over the edge, buying it mere minutes before the weight would snap them.

"Ah, n-no, help me! G-Give me a chance!" he tearfully cried.

"What about Ben Parker, did you give him a chance? Did you!?" Peter roared, fists clenched. The murderer's eyes widened in horror and disbelief.

"W-who?" he stuttered.

"The man you shot down in cold blood?" Peter snarled staring intently through the shattered mask's eyes. The criminal's eyes widened further in shock and realization. This boy, this Spiderman had seen him kill Ben Parker in cold blood, fumbling on the floor to grab a gun that inevitable went off in the good elderly man's chest.

"What does it matter to you anyway?!" the murderer roared as the car slid slightly. Peter ripped his mask off, revealing his face. Large brown eyes now full of hate and fury, piercing his soul. Lips pressed into a snarl, heart palpitating in anger.

"EVERYTHING!" Peter roared. He stared down at the car, seeing the metal hull creaking and teetering over the edge. He stared back at the man stuck underneath it, tethered to the car by seat belt, the irony of it. The man knew him, the kid from the store who couldn't afford his Chocolate milk.

"What are...what are you..." The man heaved as Peter pressed his foot to the car hood. The car tilted upwards slightly.

"N-No, n-n-no!" the man begged as he clutched to the seat belt as the car tipped up towards the drop of death. Peter huffed back the tears of vengeance, pushing his foot harder and finally letting the car tip back on its own.

"No! Stupid Spider! No!" the man screamed as the car fell back and off of the bridge, tumbling towards the river below, his screams echoing. The black shadow on the water raced towards the car until finally they met and a spray of water and echoing bang signaled the end.

Though Peter kept his arm straight and tensed as the Biocable he'd launched over the edge held the man suspended in the air, torn seat belt hanging from his shoulder. The Murderer wheezed and spluttered, gripping to the cable as if life itself.

But Uncle Ben wouldn't want that. He wouldn't want you to murder his murderer. An eye for an eye make's the world blind.

Peter roared with agony as he hauled the cable up towards the bridge, along with the blonde haired drug user. Strings of saliva swung across his hissing breath as Peter pulled him up to the lip of the bridge, letting the man's shaky trembling hand grasp the concrete.

Peter pulled the ripped mask over his head and flattened out the creases, Spiderman staring down at the man with clenched fists.

"You're lucky...Lucky I'm not like you. I'd rather you suffer than get the easy way out." Peter peered from the murderer's snapped wrist that held the star tattoo at the approaching Policemen. The man sat up on his knees, gasping for air. He peered through matted blond hair over the concrete lip at the rippling water and sinking car hull. He quenched his breath and turned, looking up at Spiderman.

The policeman barreled passed Peter and to the man on the floor, hauling him up and slapping handcuffs on him with chrome clicks. He huffed in defeat and dropped his heavy head. Peter watched through broken lenses.

"Thanks. We've been trying to get this guy for months, been running loads of small robberies across Manhattan." A brown haired, chiseled chin police officer said to Spiderman. He glanced over at him with reflective honeycomb eyes.

"And the murder of an innocent man? Ben Parker?" Peter snarled at the officer. The man gulped and slowly nodded. It was as if the police had forgotten all together. Peter shook his head and turned, walking to the edge of the bridge.

"Hey! We need to take you in!" the policeman called. Peter turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Not today." Peter sighed, shooting a cable off the side of the bridge and swinging away between the tall metal pillars of the bridge. The Officer sighed, shaking his head. The other Officer, quite elderly with a silvery mustache, held onto the crook of the murderer's arm, the identification of Stan Lee on his badge.

"Really? A Spider man? Huh...seems like comic book stuff to me." The old man shook his head with a weak chuckle, a New York accent to his voice, tugging the criminal away to the awaiting car, ambulances and fire crews arriving with flashing lights.

...

Peter had a lot on his mind on that cold walk home, hands stuffed in his pockets, hood pulled up over his head. His split lip still bright sore red, a bruise under his left eye and a pained look on his face.

On a mind clearing note, he'd finally caught Uncle Ben's killer, after all those months, catching the wrong crooks, the lookalikes, he finally caught the star wrist man. But, he was also one wrist flick and biocable away from murdering the man. Despite everything that plagued his mind, the want to watch that car tumble to the river below, hear the man's desperate screams end with a bone snapping splash, he still saved him.

That moment was a defining one for Peter. The moment he rose above his own wants, his desires to end this monsters life. The moment he realized that Peter Parker can kill, but Spiderman cannot. Spiderman is a symbol, someone that children look up to, dress up like for Halloween. He isn't just a superhero or a symbol of hope. He's an icon, a hero to everyone. Spiderman is immortal. Spiderman must be the man with the greatest power...but also the greatest responsibility.

Peter rounded the cold Queen's corner and paced down the tarmac path along the rows of identical houses. Finally he reached his home, turning on the pad of his foot and stopping in his tracks when he saw the porch.

Sat on the small wooden rocking chair was a cold, shivering blonde. A grey beanie hat pulled over her ears, waterfalls of blonde cascading down her shoulders, her adorable button nose sniffing and ruffling from the cold, each cloud of condensation breath leaving her plump lips. Her huge green eyes fixed on the porch, only the occasion blink of her long black lashes breaking the view of those tremendous endless green seas.

Peter had forgotten completely that he'd invited her over, having joined the chase to end his Uncle's killer. She was going to help design the new suit, and here she was on his porch, locked out in the cold. A heavy slap of guilt hit his chest and he sucked in a breath of bravery. He paced towards the house.

Gwen peered up and she stood up sharply, trotting down the steps to him in her boots. A grey Hoodie over her body and her sleeves pulled down over her little paws, making her look handless.

"Where've you been?" She asked in a raspy voice he knew as Gwen's instinctively. Peter shrugged and looked down at the floor, trying to hide the cuts and bruises. "I mean, what, you invite me over then go out? Peter?" she asked with an annoyed huff, sniffing her runny nose away. Peter shrugged again like a child getting a scolding.

She huffed and deflated her shoulders, lifting her sleeve covered hands and pressing the warm fabric coated hands to his cheeks. She tilted his head up and gasped.

"Peter...what happened?" she asked. He smiled and leaned his face into her hands. That was one of the million things he loved about Gwen. Her ability to be angry at him, yet calm, and the moment she sees he's hurt, her anger suddenly doesn't seem so worth it. Sure, it isn't forgotten but after she stitches him up and cleans his wounds, they talk it out like adults. They don't shout, or argue, they don't point blame at one another. They simply talk.

He sighed and looked at her with a tremble in his voice. "I got Uncle Ben's killer."

Gwen's eyes widened and she gaped at him slightly. He scoffed an incredulous chortle and suddenly burst into tears, dropping to his knees. Gwen caught him luckily as his heaving and retching cries echoed across the suburbia. Peter wailed into her shoulder and his back arched as he pulled her down with him to their knees, his hand balling up her Hoodie fabric. Gwen peered up and around seeing no one, so she sat with him in the cold, gently stroking his hair.

She shushed him softly, her fingers raking through his dry blood matted hair. He continued to gently sob into her shoulder, his heart wrenching tears now small quieting sobs. Gwen softly cupped his chin, pulling his head up from her shoulder. Seeing his brown doe eyes now stained with red puffy streaks and lines of wet trails ebbing down his cheeks made her heart sink. She's never seen Peter cry, not like this. She gulped over the lump in her throat and gently bumped her forehead to his, knowing the action soothes him. His cries became small gasping sobs and sniffles. He brought his hands up and cupped her cheeks, stroking the soft cream skin of her perfect complexion.

"Let's go inside, yeah?" Gwen said softly. Peter nodded as his lip quivered, sniffing back the runny nose and stinging tears that pricked his vision. Gwen helped him up and they both paced up the steps to Peter's home.

...

An hour later and Peter happily trotted down the staircase, rubbing a towel over his hair. After having a cleansing shower, all the dry blood and dirt running off of him like soot, he arrived on the bottom floor clean and fresh. He had a warm black Hoodie over his torso and a pair of grey sweatpants.

Peter yawned and threw the towel in the corner by the washing machine, pacing into the kitchen. He mindlessly walked to the fridge, opening the door unleashing a frigid blast of air. He grasped the cold aluminium of a coke can, pulling it from the frozen maw of the gaping fridge. He slammed the fridge door and a content whistle hummed from his pursed lips. He spun around and slammed the brakes on his whistling, eyes widely set on the blonde sat at the breakfast island.

Gwen played with her fingers, wringing her hands together as she sniffed the cold away from her red nose. She peered up at him, and shrugged, wetting her oval lips.

"What, we not gonna talk about what just happened?"She asked, sniffing again and rubbing the tops of her fingers across her nasal, eyes still set on his. Her vibrant green inked into his brown. Peter shrugged and looked down, eyes darting around to avoid her huge eyed stare. "Peter!?" she snapped. He huffed and looked at her.

"Nothing to talk about." He bobbed his shoulders, cracking the can open and slouching off into the living area. Gwen was left speechless. She pulled the beanie hat off her head and slapped it down on the counter, hopping off the leather stool.

"Oh um, yeah, no-yeah there is." She sarcastically nodded, hand on hip while the other ran across the underside of her sniffing nose. Her congested and husky voice was stern and soft all at once. Peter slumped down in the cushioning chair, staring at the black screen of the Television.

"Nope." He said, sipping the coke back. Gwen scoffed and her nose scrunched into disgusted disbelief.

"Okay, one: You find Uncle Ben's murderer..." Gwen lifted her hands, counting off the list on her fingers. "Two: You break down into...I don't even know, the biggest breakdown I've ever seen you have!" Gwen snarled at him, lips firmly pressed into a frown. "And now you won't even talk to me?" she had a look of hurt in those huge eyes that Peter knew would break him if he looked at her, so instead he kept his eyes set on the off Television. She licked her dry lips and pursed them, ready to say anything at all to break the silence.

Peter shrugged again and Gwen huffed, staring up at the ceiling in annoyance, growling in her throat. Her fists tightened by her side. "What is with you? Peter!" she shouted, her voice sore.

"I nearly killed him." Peter said in a quiet gulp. Gwen fell deathly silent, eye burning into the side of his temple.

"Wha...what?" she shook her head softly. Peter shrugged and looked up at her.

"I nearly killed Uncle Ben's murderer. His car was balancing off the bridge and I pushed it." Peter sighed, sipping the can that was now trembling in his hand. Gwen paced quietly, her grey sock coated feet silently shuffling over the carpet. She crouched in front of him, pushing the blonde hair out of her eyes.

"O-Okay...what happened next?" she asked gently. He peered down at her and leaned forward, elbows pressed on his knees.

"I caught him with a web and pulled him from the car as it fell." He explained monotonously. Gwen nodded, running her bottom lip over the top one, wetting them.

"So...you didn't kill him?" she asked, trying to narrow down the facts. Peter shook his head, eyeing the beige carpet between her small sock feet. "Why not?" she shrugged, making his eyes snap up.

"W-What?" he mumbled, eyebrow rose in confusion. She shrugged again, tilting her head to the side slightly.

"Why didn't you?" she asked again. He sighed heavily and deflated.

"Because...God Gwen, I wanted to kill him, to watch him slowly die, to feel what Uncle Ben did!" Peter snarled, struggling not to crush the can in his hand.

"Why didn't you then?" She asked again, wrists on her crouched knees. Peter peered up at her with big brown eyes.

"Because...Cos it's not what Uncle Ben would want." He huffed. Gwen smiled and lifted his chin with the back of her fingers. He looked into her eyes.

"Cos it's not what Peter Parker would do." She smiled. He scoffed a faint chuckle and for the first time in a while, he grinned. "He'll be thrown in jail and left to rot. He's do his time Peter, all thanks to you. Congratulations." She smiled at him warmly. He raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You got closure." She smiled, pressing her lips to his forehead gently.

"I guess so...still, why do I feel so empty, y-you know?" He shrugged, wetting his lips and darting his eyes left and right. Gwen huffed and pushed herself up to full height. Peter sat back and she perched on his lap, hand round the back of his head and gently caressing the nape. She curled a few locks behind her ears.

"When I found out that Connors killed my Dad...I...I wanted to kill him. Seriously, I wanted to go to his cell and just...just...you know?" she gritted her teeth and clenched her outstretched hand, the other softly caressing Peter's neck.

"Yeah." Peter understood, closing his eyes with a content hum at her gentle rub to his neck. Gwen sighed and looked down at him.

"But then I'd be just as bad as him. I don't want that...I want to be better than him, not equal."

"An eye for an eye..." Peter mumbled.

"...Makes the world blind." Gwen finished with a smile. "You did the right thing, Peter. I don't want you living with the burden of killing someone for revenge. You deserve better."

"I..." He yawned interrupting his sentence. "I got better...I got you." He smiled, feeling her lips press against his forehead. He reopened his weary eyes and looked upon the woman sat on his lap. The warmth of the room, the soft rubbing of her hand on the nape of his neck, the fact she was snuggled against him, the blissful silence. All of these factors began to make Peter incredibly tired, and his eyelids were becoming heavier than lead.

He peered down at her feet, her legs curled up against his. He reached a hand and gently grasped her soft toes under the grey sock. Gwen giggled gently. He smiled and peered up at her.

"I don't think I've seen you wear socks." He commented wearily. She scoffed.

"Yeah well, funnily I do wear them. Those boots tend to hurt without them." Gwen sarcastically chuckled. Peter grinned and stroked her foot, Gwen cooing. Soon both of them began to grow drowsy. Gwen's head listed and gently fell onto Peter's, both holding onto each other as their soft caressing of feet and necks slowed to a barely conscious rhythm.

"Thanks Gwen." Peter yawned. "I don't know what I'd do without you." he opened his eyes and looked into hers, so close together it was more a blurry mass of green.

"We look after each other...right?" she yawned, pressing into his neck. he smiled, stroking her back.

"Yeah...you and me...my girl...Gwen Stacy." Peter mumbled with a content smile. Gwen kissed his neck.

"My Peter Parker...my Bugboy." she smiled, Peter chuckling faintly. both their eyes shut and their hearts synced into a calm rhythm.

...

When Aunt May returned home, shutting the door against the now roaring blizzard, shaking her head of all the fluffy snowflakes, she peered into the lounge to see the couple sound asleep in each other's arms. Peter fast asleep with Gwen on his lap, her hand on his chest and the other around his neck. Peter's right hand on her brought up foot and the other around the small of her back.

Gwen's lips were parted slightly and she breathed through her mouth, the blockages in her nose sniffing every so often. Peter's forehead was pressed to her temple and the tangled teenage pile of limbs let out a content moan as they shifted ever so slightly in the spongy armchair.

Aunt May smiled warmly and took her coat off, hanging it up on the golden hook, walking into the closet and pulling out a dark blue blanket, pacing quietly over to the pair and gently laying it down upon them. Gwen hummed unconsciously and Peter took a deep inhale through his nose, hugging her closer.

Aunt May chuckled quietly and left the pair, going into the kitchen to complete the crossword. She could tell him about meeting the Spiderman later on. Right now they had each other.


Author's Notes: Hope you liked it. Please review and let me know. A long old chapter I know. I always respond to reviews, and your ideas for fluff are most welcome! Love you guys! - Dave