Chapter Four

Peter strolled along the streets, shifting his gaze left and right, scanning the faces of those he passed. Not just the faces, but their body language as well. With all the time he'd spent taking down criminals, he'd learned how to decipher when they were about to whip out a hidden weapon, when they were going into a store to rob someone, or when they were deciding whether who was going to be their victim in whatever attack they had planned.

With his hood pulled up, covering most of his face, Peter was inconspicuous to the outside world. It wasn't strange to him, being almost unforgettable in school made it easier for him to be unforgettable in the real world. That was the way he liked it sometimes. So that he could be Peter Parker, a normal teenage boy, and not have to worry about being 'Spider-Man' all the time. Though his spider-sense was really starting to make his anxiety shoot through the roof.

It was an amazing ability to have in general, knowing when something was about to happen that may injure him. But it was really getting to be annoying when his spider-sense went off when a bug was about to land on him, when someone was about to tap his shoulder to return his wallet he may have dropped, or when there was a change in draft. Of course, that tingling in the back of his skull, the hairs on his arms popping up became stronger when there was a lot of danger, imminent danger.

But he couldn't even begin to think of the many times he woke up in the middle of the night, flinging himself out of bed, ready for an attack—only to smack his forehead into the bottom of the bunk above him and find out it was just a rat that was scurrying through the corner of his room. He would glare at it before turning and faceplanting into his pillow.

Every time it happened after that, Peter would shoot his eyes open, look at the time and roll over to go back to sleep. (Though there was that one time he web-shooted a rat into the wall behind his desk and forgot about it until Aunt May asked about a smell she couldn't quite place in his room. He quickly got her off his back, mentioning he was a growing boy and he needed his space…and he'd be sure to take more showers.

That was probably something he'd need to do anything, considering how many times he had to chase some of the criminals he was after into dump sites, into the sewers, and into the nasty run-off water of treatment plants. Where did these guys come up with the places they wanted to run to? Didn't they get they wouldn't get away from a man who could web shoot them to a wall if he wanted to?

Peter continued to stroll along. Surprisingly, he found himself not in the mood to take on anyone, actively wishing nothing would go on that day. Maybe I should just let the police handle it for once. He felt shame come through him as soon as the thought crossed his mind. How ungrateful.

He had these supernatural powers, the ability to help people, and he wanted to give it up for a day. There was always someone out there who needed help, who could probably end up in more danger without his presence than him actually being there. Peter smiled when he spotted a pair of brothers running by him, tightly clutching their backpacks in hand, wearing matching Spider-Man shirts that flapped in the wind as they went by.

A sign maybe.

That it was alright to feel how he was feeling.

It was hard to juggle it all; school, the academic decathlon, being Spider-Man, being Peter Parker, being a nephew, a son, a friend…

Peter reached up and pushed his hood off his head, running a hand through his hair. He looked around, noticing the scenery around him change, seeing the scenery move from the hustle and bustle of the city to the quietness of his neighborhood. He paused outside his apartment building and glanced to the side at the building Brady lived in.

Brady had to stay behind at school to figure out the transferring of his credits from his former school, and Ned was going out to dinner with his family, otherwise, they probably would've figured out what to do about Liz's party and the whole Spider-Man making an appearance thing.

He was going to kill Ned.

Peter hurried up to his apartment, noticing the smell of the dinner his Aunt May was cooking on the stove and felt a stab of guilt in the gut. He should've been there earlier to help her out around the place a little bit. Even with a cursory glance, he could see the clutter that was slowly starting to become a mess. A mess neither of them had much time to deal with; she was busy at work and he was busy being Spider-Man.

"Hey Aunt May," Peter greeted, dropping his backpack down his arm to carefully hang on his chair at the dinner table. He made a show of it, silently letting her know he managed to hold onto his bag that time and that, no, she didn't need to buy another one.

"Hey, Peter!" Aunt May replied. She grinned at her nephew, though Peter wasn't sure if it was a close look or not. Wondered what it was that she saw. He was nervous when they'd gone out to dinner for larb, all her questions made it seem like she was slowly starting to learn about the side of him he was keeping a secret. But her smile was disarming, he didn't think she was any closer than she'd been better. "How was school?"

Peter pressed his hands against the back of the chair closest to him, leaned against it. "Same as always," he said.

"Flash being a real jerk to you again?" Aunt May's nose screwed up in concern. Peter nodded. "You know he's just jealous."

Peter snorted. "Jealous of me? Yeah, right." He had the money, the stuff, the…everything. Peter wasn't one who would say he was particularly good looking himself, would never say much about another person's looks, no matter how beautiful he thought Liz was, but knew there were more than enough girls that seemed to like Flash despite how much he put others down to make himself look better.

"I don't know," Aunt May drawled, turning back to the stove. "I always say some girl would be lucky to have you."

"Yeah, I don't really see a long line of them outside our door." He dropped down into the seat, stretching his legs out beneath the table. He watched her for a few moments before teasingly asking, "Do you think you'll go out with that waiter at the Thai place?"

With her back turned to her nephew, Aunt May shook her head then shook her spoon in the air, letting splatters of spaghetti sauce stick to the front of the stove. "I'd much sooner go out with Tony Stark, and you know how I feel about that."

Peter quelled the disgust that rolled through his stomach. He'd nearly heaved when he saw how outwardly 'Mr. Stark' had been flirting with his Aunt. The idea of them actually going on a date was even worse. "He's engaged, anyway."

"That doesn't really stop men like him."

Peter was about to remind her about Pepper Potts but decided not to. It was bad enough they were talking about her dating life rather than having to even think about it. "There's this new guy at school," Peter said, changing the subject. "Brady Nash, he just moved in next door with his mom."

"That's nice," Aunt May replied. She smiled at her nephew over her shoulder. "It's about time you and Ned found someone else to play with." She then frowned, pointing the spoon at him. "He's not into LEGOs, is he? Because I don't know how many more times I can watch you take your allowance advances and throw it away on those plastic bricks."

"Those are collector's items," Peter reminded her. "They're going to be worth something someday."

"All those bricks?"

"They're fun, Aunt May. And, believe me, it's the least amount of trouble we could get into." Peter grinned and laughed along with his aunt, though a nervous sweat broke out at his temple, wondering if he'd said too much. Or if the look she gave him was a way for her to say, "I know you're Spider-Man, just tell me."

"So, what's this new guy like? Is he nice?"

"Do you think I'd be friends with him if he wasn't nice?" Peter shot back sarcastically. "And I love the fact that you're using that as a basis to figure out whether or not I should hang with him. Mr. Stark is nice, he gave me the shot at the internship, remember."

"That very same internship that has you running around at all hours of the day doing his bidding?"

"You know I go to school, right?"

"I don't have eyes on you all day."

That was true. If she looked up a little bit higher sometimes, then she'd certainly see what he was up to, and what the 'Stark Internship' really was. Peter cleared his throat. "Believe me, my life is very boring."

At that, Aunt May whirled around and pointed her spoon at her nephew once more. "I beg your pardon? I'm the one who's funding this life for you."

Peter held up his hands defensively, eyes growing wide when he realized his faux-pas. "I'm kidding, Aunt May. Promise. I like my life." He then pressed his palms together, sticking out his lower lip. "Please don't kick me out."

"I'm definitely not kicking you out, you're the one who'll deal with the spiders we've got going on around here." Her back was turned, missing the smirk that came across Peter's face at the irony that wasn't lost on him. "So, this new kid, Brady?"

"Yeah, he's real cool," Peter replied. "He moved here from Central City with his mom."

"Whoa, kind of a big move. The mid-west to the city."

"I'm sure there are cities in the mid-west too."

"None like New York."

"That's for sure." Peter folded his arms, wondering what his life would be like if he weren't living in the city. If the alien attack hadn't happened. If he hadn't been there when Iron Man arrived. If his Uncle Ben hadn't died. What would his life be like then? Would he even still be Spider-Man?

Would he have even cared.

"But, yeah, he's cool. Really funny." Peter paused. Obviously, he couldn't say anything about the powers that Brady had or the crime fighting they'd done before. He couldn't say how Brady had to leave Central City due to people finding out his identity as a metahuman, how school wasn't safe for him anymore, how his friends and classmates were slowly being taken away. How he didn't know how much longer it'd be before the same thing happened to him. "He seems to really be comfortable in his own skin." He frowned, realizing how lame it was. Even Aunt May looked at him a little funny. "Um, I'm going to go up to the roof for a little bit."

"Dinner's almost ready."

"I know, it's not going to take too long."

Peter went to his room, being careful to take his backpack with him—of which he deposited by his bed—and climbed out the window, wall climbing until he made it to the roof. The second he reached the top, he pulled off his sweatshirt, goosebumps dotting his arms against the cooler temperature, and used the lip of the roof to propel himself forward in a flip.

The second he landed on his feet, Peter threw himself into a pirouette, snapping his head around to keep himself correctly oriented.

It was something not even Ned knew about him. Peter had taken dance classes—ballet specifically—for a long time. From when he could walk to, well, to when his parents died. It was something he greatly enjoyed but didn't let others know he did. Maybe, it was a way to preserve his parents' memory, maybe it was a way to completely be himself and let go.

But as it was, if anyone looked up at the roof of the apartment building that day, they wouldn't have found Peter sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the building, gently kicking his legs back and forth, striking his heels into the brick beneath him. They wouldn't have seen Spider-Man perched on the corner of the building, watching the city like a hawk, looking for his next criminal to take down.

No, if anyone looked up that night, they would've seen a teenage boy throwing out some of the best pirouettes and leaps he'd ever thrown to an invisible song that only he could hear. He continued to throw his arms in the air, using the momentum to throw himself around and push himself into his next move.

He continued, pushing past the limits of his enhanced abilities until he was dripping with sweat, bent over, hands resting on his knees. He watched as droplets of sweat dropped to the gray concrete, darkening the ground around him in seconds. Peter stood up, brushing his hair back from his forehead, placed his hands on his hips.

Peter titled his head back and looked at the sky, watching the sun dip low beyond the horizon, showing off the best part of New York City.

Where, if anyone wanted to, they could leave a bad day behind and start new the next day. Because, like the setting and rising sun, it was always an end and a new beginning.

Spider-Man was the 'end' of Peter's life, but the beginning of his 'new' life. Just as the death of his parents was the end of his childhood and the death of his Uncle Ben was the end of…something else.

He just had to figure out what his new life was going to be.

A/N: So, this was a more introspective chapter for Peter, but I really wanted to get into his head about things with him. How he feels about school, how he feels about Spider-Man, how he feels about there being another hero his age he can work with, and his relationship with Aunt May. Sometimes, I wish we could see more of these things in the movies, but ithat's what fanfic is for!

For any inconsistencies people may point out, every time I write a fic that has some sort of plot points from the source material, I always change some things around and by that I mean changing some plot things, changing the order of things, and making it so that it won't be like re-reading the movie exactly and because I like to throw my own stuff in.

Thanks for the support, you guys! I hope you all continue to enjoy, I'm so sorry for the wait on the update.

Cheers,

-Riley