Chapter Twenty-five: Bonesaw

Saturday, August 25th

Stiles would sit there for the next half an hour patching himself up, trying to not pass out from the sight of a needle going in and out of his skin as he stitched it all together. He had seen it enough on television, and as much as he might try to say otherwise, he still nearly passed out from certain things like needles.

He couldn't help but think back to what happened when the Identity Thief revealed himself in the warehouse. Stiles might have been hit with a knife, but he didn't forget that the serial killer had a gun. The teen had barely dodged the bullet he had fired, and even then Stiles had let his emotions get in the way when he finally got close enough to him. Stiles had him in a headlock and he wasn't able to react in time to dodge that knife. When he mentioned Lydia, Stiles lost sight of everything, he let his guard down. What a rookie mistake, he thought to himself quietly.

Stiles laughed at himself, noting how he sounded like a hero that had been doing this thing for years. What was he doing here? He wasn't a fighter, yet he had done more fighting in the past couple weeks than his entire life. He saved Derek from those robots, destroyed them like they were nothing and that wasn't even him trying. Stiles then recalled his fight with Shaw... he was becoming more of a fighter as his powers continued to grow. It was becoming a part of his instinct. Would he have fighting become a part of his DNA? Was it because of the werewolf part of the Cross Species side of him that he was fighting more, or was it because he was being thrust into a dangerous world where being a pacifist got you killed. Who knows really, but all Stiles knew was that fighting more often meant he was going to need to learn first aid.

Pulling the bullet out of his arm he screamed in pain, muffling it the best he could by keeping his mouth shut. Dropping it onto the desk Stiles exhaled heavily as the blood ran down his arm. He couldn't believe how much it hurt. He grabbed the thread and needle as he heard his father's footsteps going through the hallway, coming towards him.

Panic rushed over Stiles like a tsunami, and the teenager realized he didn't look too good, especially with a bullet wound. He quickly threw his jacket on, hiding all of his wounds the best he could as he saw his dad pop his head in the doorway.

"Stiles, everything okay? I thought I heard you scream." he asked with worry in his voice as Stiles smiled nervously at him.

"Y-y-yeah! Everything's fine Dad!" he assured him, covering his leg and torso the best he could. However he could not hide the split lip and the bruised nose that was still broken but at least was set in place. With luck his enhanced healing would have him fixed up by tonight when the Basketball game came. It's only 3 in the morning right now, but Stiles knew he needed to rest for a bit, and he didn't know if he was going to be fixed in time for the game.

"Are you sure, what's up with this?" Stilinski asked sarcastically making a motion around his own face.

"Oh, that..." he chuckled, touching his lip and nose. "I was working on a project and it um, hit me in the face."

"Ah," Stilinski nodded, understanding how dangerous some of the stuff Stiles worked on was. "Be more careful kiddo."

"Sure thing, hey Dad... have you ever had stitches?"

"Yeah, many times, why?"

"Did they hurt?"

"Yeah, but usually the doctors put me on some sort of medicine to make it easier, but it does still hurt. Why, do you think you need stitches for something?"

"No. I was wondering because someone like the Identity Thief, he wouldn't just go to the hospital because of an injury he got because of the murders he committed and how he seemed to get injured during some of the body drop offs. I was thinking that perhaps he learned how to stitch himself up and all that. That way he could avoid the questions that might come from police if he were possibly stabbed with a knife or anything of the sort."

"That's possible, but you're sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm alright Dad." Stiles assured him before Stilinski took in a breath.

"Alright, I just don't want you hiding anything from me because I'm a cop. You can trust me, you know that right?"

Stiles saw the pained look in his father's eyes, and it was only then that Stiles realized that he had been hiding things from Stilinski, lying to him. He sighed, stepping to his father pulling him into a hug.

"I do trust you..."

Stilinski clung onto his son tightly, feeling the same worry he had when Claudia was sick. It was that worry that told him there was in fact something wrong with his son, but he wasn't going to pressure Stiles into anything.

"I love you pops." Stiles told him, with tears forming as he thought back to what Madame Web told him...

"I love you too son."

Stiles could feel the pain from his wounds, especially the bullet wound that his father's arm was pressed up against, and he fought the urge to make a noise of any kind.

"I know the past few days I've been kind of distant, and I'm sorry about that. It's just, I have a lot to worry about right now, with the Identity Thief and all that. And I've been meaning to tell you, I'm playing in tonight's game."

"Really? Stiles, that's great!" Stilinski cheered with joy giving him a bright smile.

"So, will you come to the game?" Stiles asked hopeful, to which Stilinski nodded.

"Yes, on what planet would I miss the first game you'd get to play in?" he asked as Stiles smiled brightly at him. All Stiles wanted to do before his time was up was to make his father proud, just one time. That was what he wanted to do, and he was going to make sure he did that. "But, I do have to go to work. I get off at 3, and I'll be able to get to the game. It's against Devenford Prep, right?"

"Yeah."

"It should be quite the match then, I'll see you later tonight. And, do me a favor... get some sleep. I know what you must be feeling after seeing what happened to Tracy, but you won't do any good if you're exhausted."

"Alright, see you later Dad."

Stilinski shut the door behind him, as Stiles ripped his jacket off once the door latched shut, holding the bloody wound tightly trying to hold back his cries. The pain was like his muscles were on fire, and he reached for a needle and thread.

I might hate needles, but there's no choice...

"Whoa, hold it." a voice called as Stiles went to pierce the skin, only to find it was Derek stepping in. "You don't have a clue as to how to do it. Do it wrong and you'll be in a lot worse shape than you were when you started. Sit."

"Jesus, you need to stop doing that Batman routine of yours. Popping out of nowhere is warrant for a heart attack."

Stiles did as he said, sitting down as the werewolf took the needle and thread, putting it together, only to look at Stiles' arm where the bullet wound was. "Really, that's what you're stitching? Stiles, you don't need that. You get hit with claws that go deep, that is when you'll need them."

"Then what do I need?"

Derek pulled out a lighter from his pocket. "You need to burn it to stop the bleeding, and then your healing will take over."

"Oh I'd rather stick a needle into my eye than that.." he admitted lowly, as Derek sighed. "What?"

"I need a bigger lighter. I'll be right back. I believe your father has one downstairs near the grill, right?"

Stiles gulped as Derek left the room, and prayed for the best.

Okay, so after being burned on his arm and his leg where he was bleeding still, Stiles was now covered in bandages and was wishing horrible things to happen to the werewolf right about now. Stiles was still clenching his fists as Derek sat down beside him against the wall.

"Erica's safe, for now. She is up with her parents. I wanted to come let you know, and that's when I entered your window."

"Okay... did anything seem out of the ordinary?"

"Not really, but knowing the Identity Thief he might have been hiding. I doubt he'll try anything with Erica's parents being right there."

"I need to do something. I had him in my grasp, and he got away. Derek, you remember how I said I could make something to help get Laura out of Oscorp? I have the fluid for it made, I gotta make the devices. Once that's done, we'll go get her... but we will need a plan to do so. Just keep Erica safe until I'm ready to move. We'll have her freed soon, I promise."

"Alright, just let me know." Derek nodded, before getting up and jumping out of the window, disappearing like a ghost.

Stiles cracked his knuckles, sliding over to his desk as he put a shirt on, preparing himself to create what was going to be the most important tool in his arsenal...

"Alright Mom... let's see how much of that ingenuity of yours I inherited."

He took in a deep breath as he began working to create his web shooters. Stiles began by creating a holder for the webs, by taking two mechanical watches and pulling the insides and that out, utterly having just the metal ring that held the hands of the clock. Grabbing a few cartridges he made after Lydia left and went to work using his technical knowledge...

Using a pair of tweezers Stiles put the small carousel in the watch's face into its very heart, and using a small hole on the back Stiles inserted the web cartridges into the carousel seeing as it would fall perfectly in line. He put the first cartridge in and as he went to shoot a web line by piercing the cartridge seal... Stiles found himself thrown across the room after being hit with an explosion of web. It was only a minute after coming to his senses that Stiles realized he was stuck to the wall.

Cute, I feel like a bug on a windshield. Using his strength Stiles broke free and shook the impact off before jumping back over to his desk to work on the seal more, realizing that he made the concoction of webbing a little too strong. He played around with it for a few minutes, and once it shot onto the wall in the right spot (a little dartboard, right on the bullseye) Stiles jumped up, dancing in triumph.

The web fluid could theoretically hold up to a few tons if the webbing was strong enough, but if the steel nipple that pierces the seal of the web cartridge inside of the carousel of the shooter, allowing the web fluid to travel through an air tight channel towards the nozzle, at the same time pressing the pressure sensitive trigger on the palm of his hand would cause the valve in the nozzle to open wider, expelling the fluid, which also meant if the trigger was released the valve would close, cutting off the web-line or fluid, was unable to pierce the seal and could not sever it due to the strength of the web fluid, it could entangle Stiles or end up tying him to the object the web connected to, as what Stiles had concluded when he first got the carousel set in the device.

He had the web shooters set to where he could only use his two middle fingers to cause the webs to shoot out, or he could use his other hand's thumb to activate the web shooter's spread mechanism to send the webs out in two different spots. Stiles figured he could make sure it was used with enough pressure that he himself could create with his two middle fingers that way there was no accidental discharge of the web fluid.

Stiles smiled lightly as he put his jacket on, noting how the web shooters could be hidden underneath his sleeves, but he would need to find a different way to cloak them from sight, maybe turn the overall devices into some sort of wristbands or bracelets... so it wouldn't be so obvious that they were meant for something else.

He looked at the time, finding it to be nearing five in the morning, and seeing as there was no school today, Stiles shut his lab down and went to his room, falling asleep, with nightmares of the Identity Thief hurting his friends and his father.

Needless to say, Stiles woke up screaming.

When he woke up, he found a message on his phone from Derek, telling him that he needed to check the attic... to which he found weird but went up to the attic, and he felt his Spider Sense go off. It was different though, it wasn't from him being in danger... it was because there was something he was looking for in here, and he didn't even realize it.

As he stepped into the attic, he found on the wall was shelves full of boxes, all labeled: Claudia's...

His heart skipped a beat as his sight turned dark blue, and one of the boxes turned gold. Stiles grabbed the box and pulled it out, finding multiple notebooks... labeled Cross Species journals.

Stiles couldn't believe it as he pulled each notebook out, reading through them, not able to believe what laid inside. It was everything that he hadn't been expecting, and everything he had been all in one go.

And suddenly, Stiles realized why he was getting seizures, not because of what Madame Web told him, but because of what CLAUDIA told him.

The journals, they weren't just Claudia's thoughts, they were for Stiles...

Stiles, if you are reading this, then surely I must be dead... and by the time you find this, you are most likely nearing adulthood, or you are far beyond that. I do not know, all I know is that it must be you that has found this, because your father would never touch my things... I know him too well. So, I leave this to you, because I know you will find these, and if you are anything like me, you have already started on a path I undoubtedly put you on without you ever knowing. The X-95... it is my greatest creation, and my most dangerous, and I intended to tell you about it, but circumstances stopped me from doing so. So, I tell you now that this is the key that my boss, Norman Osborn needs to doing every unspeakable action he has thought of his entire life. You see, there are only a few people the X-95 can bite, and turn them into a Cross Species, a true Cross Species. Not some feral monster that doesn't have control. You, Stiles... are one of those few people that can become a Cross Species. I knew that if anyone would be fit to become one, it was you. Something about your DNA in particular, not mine, not your father's... just your's... is a perfect match for it. I don't know how, or why, what I do know is, if you get bitten by the X-95, your life will never be the same. You will develop powers unlike anything you could imagine. These powers will come with a cost, as your body will not be prepared for them, and you will face seizures. These seizures are your body adapting to the powers, making them truly yours. Once you have all of your abilities, the seizures will stop. Because of the nature of the science, I am unsure of what the mutation you will have will be. You might have met Derek Hale, or as Oscorp calls him, Subject Zero. He is the only one I trust to help you through this. Trust him, because he will know how to help you more than even I can. The truth is, Stiles... the X-95 is your inheritance. It will be your gift, and curse. Use it for what you want, but please... do not use it to hurt people. I would wish that you would use it for the betterment of people's lives, to honor your father's hard work, and what I spent the last precious years of my life devoted on. See, Norman Osborn believes the X-95 was to save his life, but in truth... it was to help you save lives. I know you are only eight years old when I write this, but understand that I know you are just like us... you have your father's heart when it comes to protecting New York City, you want to help people, and you have my smarts. Together, with the X-95, you can do so many things to help the city, and I can only hope that when you read this, or if you ever read this, it is because you are on that path finally. It might not be the ideal one, you might be closer to the end of that path than I realize, but I have to hope you will become the man I have always dreamed you would become. See, Stiles... you always talked about being a hero like your Dad, but you were already one... you are my hero Stiles... and I want you to save lives... just as you saved mine... you gave me a purpose in my final years, and while I may not see the man you become, I will always be proud of you. I ask one thing, and one thing only. Do not let Norman Osborn get what he wants. If he does, more people will suffer, just as I have... as Derek has, and so many more.

You are not dying because of the seizures, you are merely evolving. I love you, Stiles... remember that, and also remember, I am not really gone... as I am still here...

Stiles had tears running down his face as he felt the back of his neck where the X-95 had bit him, and he felt a horrible tsunami of emotions rush upon him. He was angry that she had wanted him to get these powers, he was happy to know that he wasn't bit on accident, and he felt a blanket of depression knowing he was going to die, very soon. He wouldn't make his mom proud... and he wouldn't be able to stop Norman from getting what he wanted.

He sat down against the wall and every little failure he had came across his mind.

As he stared at the notebook, he noticed that certain letters were bolder than the rest. When put together it spelled out a sentence...

Fix the video to find the truth.

What the hell did that mean?

Thinking back, Stiles thought to the flash drive he had downloaded the video files that were on his mother's Oscorp account.

There was that one corrupted file that he couldn't access. Could that be it? He rushed downstairs to his room, searching for his flash drive, which he found wedged underneath his bed, pinned by his nightstand. Stiles grabbed it and plugged it into his computer looking at the file that was labeled as Mischief... It was the file that was corrupted. Stiles didn't know if he had time to fix this file, but he knew someone who could fix it for him.

Imagine how angry Norman was when Shaw came into the office that following morning, covered in dry blood and looked defeated. He knew immediately that Shaw had been unable to kill Stiles, and the CEO had a meltdown moments after the revelation came upon him.

"Sir, I... I don't know how he beat me. He should have been too weak to even fight me, but he won."

"Obviously he's not dying like we all thought. Did you happen to get a blood sample from him or anything that we could use?"

"I managed to shoot him, and when he was struggling with me, his blood fell onto my gun. Here." Shaw informed him handing him the gun. "And sir, the boy wanted me to send you a message..."

"Oh really, and what message was that?"

"If you want him, you can come and get him yourself. And to leave his friends and family out of it or else."

"So the kid thinks he can threaten me? We'll see about that. Justin!" Norman barked as his assistant came at his beck and call. "Take Mr. Shaw's gun and have Octavius analyze the DNA on it. It appears Subject One is not what we believe him to be."

"Yes sir."

As the basketball game was drawing close, Stiles entered the locker room where he found Danny getting ready when the Cross Species leaned up against the locker next to him all cool like, although to Danny might have been trying to seduce him. Stiles then had that startling thought on whether he looked attractive to gay guys or not. Shaking that thought off he smiled at Danny as the teenager looked at him strangely.

"Hey Danny, buddy old pal..."

Danny raised his eyebrow, sensing that Stiles was going to ask him for something.

"What can I help you with Stiles?" he asked, shutting his locker to look at Stiles who was smiling like a madman.

"Wow, straight to the point... your boyfriends must not like that, I mean... haha." he chuckled nervously as Danny crossed his arms. "I mean, I'm not against that in any way, it just... oh I dug a hole for myself haven't I?" Stiles lowered his head in shame as Danny held up his finger and thumb which were only an inch away from each other.

"A little bit, what's up?"

"You do tech work right with cameras and that?" Danny nodded, to which Stiles did a little jump of joy. "Awesome, do you think you could fix a video file for me? It's corrupted and I need to know what's on it."

"Why don't you know what's on it?"

"It's got a label called Mischief, and it was on Mom's computer. As you might know she's been gone since I was eight. I just want to know whether it was important or not. Could you help me out?"

"Do you have it on something I can take home with?"

"Yeah, I got the video on a flash drive." Stiles admitted.

"Flash drive? Why not the actual computer?" Danny asked with confusion over why Stiles would use that.

"Well, that's just it, I had the computer, but I was pulling the files off when the computer crashed. The file on the computer itself was gone when I started it back up, and the copy on the flash drive file was corrupted."

"Alright, if you have it on you I'll take a look at it. It's not a guarantee that I can fix it, but I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks Danny. Here." Stiles smiled pulling the flash drive out of his pocket and handed it to Danny.

"Now, do me a favor... go get dressed. We have a game to win tonight, remember?"

Stiles smiled as he nodded, going to his locker to get ready.

Stiles shot the ball into the air, watching as the time was running out on the board. It was one of the closest games he had seen, with literally a tie of 87-87 at the moment. He had worked harder than he ever had in a game, and in the stands he could see his father cheering for him, with Melissa and Harry beside him both looking at him with hope and pride. This was the first game Stiles had played in, and he had gotten the majority of the points that game, having about 50 some odd points. Scott was right beside him, watching the ball fly through the air towards the hoop.

It was one of the few moments that Stiles was glad he had his powers, because he could use Web Rush to look around and see everyone's reactions. He noticed though in the teachers area, was Harris sitting down just staring at him like he normally did. Harris truly hated Stiles, and he had no idea why. It was almost like Stiles had done something wrong to him in a past life or something, but he wasn't sure what Harris's problem was. His eyes kept moving around, finding Erica standing with Flash watching. Erica seemed proud of him, while Flash looked upset that it wasn't him out there instead of Stiles getting all the attention. You see, as it turned out when Stiles got to be in the game, Coach had taken Flash out instead... and needless to say Stiles felt a bit guilty.

Stiles continued to search through the crowd, eventually coming upon Lydia and her group of friends, which included Liz Allan and everyone else. They were holding signs praising Jackson, but Lydia wasn't... she looked so excited at the sight of him being a huge part of the game. His heart nearly stopped beating because of how happy that made him. That was all he wanted to see from her was just that one look...

He smiled as he turned back to the ball watching as it fell into the hoop, right as the buzzer went off. Midtown High won the game...

90-87 was the final score, with Stiles making a three pointer to end it. Cheers erupted throughout the court, and Stiles felt like he was in a dream as Scott and the rest of the team grabbed onto him. Even when the team was celebrating Stiles just couldn't take his eyes off of Flash seeing how upset he was. He felt like this was supposed to be his big moment... and he took it away from Flash.

Stiles needed to talk to him...

Flash was walking to the locker room to gather his things, seeing as he wasn't able to play during the game, and that he figured Stiles was now going to take his place seeing how he performed tonight.

So, consider him surprised when he heard Stiles call his name out. "Flash! Wait up!"

Flash stopped and looked at him with a cold stare that he hoped would bore down into Stiles' very soul, but found that Stiles was looking rather guilty of something.

"What do you want Stilinski, come to rub my face in the dirt some more?"

"What are you talking about, Flash?"

"Seriously, don't play stupid with me. I know you're hiding something. You don't just get good at something over night. You've been hiding that talent of yours for years huh? Waiting for the perfect moment to use it."

Stiles looked offended at the idea, but looked at his arms realizing that Flash did have a reason to say that. "Look, I didn't come here to rub your nose in the dirt as you wanna call it. I came to apologize for getting you in trouble the other day. I'm sorry but whatever you think I did to Erica, but it wasn't me."

"If it wasn't you, then who was it?"

"My Dad has been investigating a series of crimes, and it turns out that guy on the news, the Identity Thief, he kidnapped Erica and was going to kill her, but she escaped. That's why she has that scar on her arm. If you think I would intentionally hurt Erica, then you have no idea who I am."

"I don't know who you are Stilinski. What I knew about you was that you were a scrawny, defenseless nerd with a need to get in other people's business, step in for the little guy. You have that Superman complex... you feel the need to save others. I knew that you cared about Erica, but you know what, the past few weeks have made me wonder who you truly are."

Stiles froze in his spot, seeing that fire in Flash's eyes that told him the teen was about to lash out at him. "Flash, I don't want to fight you, if that's what you're thinking."

"Who said I was going to fight you, Stilinski? I was going to tell you something... I don't know who you are, but what I do know is, Erica has been terrified for weeks about something, and that just so happens to be around the time she broke up with you. So excuse me for connecting the dots."

"Do... do you like Erica?" Stiles asked, seeing how frustrated he was over her, and that was when he saw something in Flash he never really saw before, compassion. "Oh my god, you do."

"What does it matter to you?"

"Nothing, just do me a favor... take care of her for me. She's been through too much. I don't want her to suffer like she did a few weeks ago. Can we talk, heart to heart?"

"I suppose we're doing that right now, aren't we?"

"No, I mean... as Stiles Stilinski, and Eugene Thompson... not Flash Thompson."

"Fine... but don't call me Eugene." Flash hissed lowly as Stiles nodded, the two of them sitting down.

"I didn't know why Erica broke up with me... honestly. I thought I had done something, but now I don't think it was me. It was her. She deserves the world, and you know what, I love Erica, I really do... but she made it clear to me that we're not going to last... she deserves a lot better than what I can give her. I'm not going to be the guy that gets the girl in the end Flash... nor do I want to be. What I want, is for the people I care about to be taken care of. Do you understand?"

Flash nodded, understanding where he was coming from, even if he didn't really believe him.

"That's why I'm going to talk to Coach, see if he will put you back on the court for the next game... in my place."

"Why would you do that Stilinski, you did a hell of a job out there tonight."

"I know, but you clearly need to be out there more than I do. After all, this isn't some teen movie where the nerd becomes popular. Sometimes you gotta sacrifice things for others, even if it means you fall behind."

"Stilinski, I don't want to take that away from you." Flash admitted. "I just, I hate that I was stupid enough to get taken off the court. I guess my grades need to be a bit higher if I want a chance to be out there again."

"Look, if you want Flash, I can help you study, or even go to Lydia. She's the smartest in our class, even if she doesn't like to act like it. But, as I said I'll talk to Coach."

Stiles patted him on the shoulder as he began to walk towards the locker room again when Flash stood up to stop him.

"Why would you help me, after all the crap I've given you over the years, and especially the last week?" he asked, as Stiles just turned to look at him with a smile.

"Because, I'm not a bad guy Flash, you can't just dwell on old grudges... just take care of Erica for me, please? And whatever you do, don't bring up anything I told you about her scars... please."

Flash nodded his head as Stiles took off for the locker room. The jock thought about what Stiles had said about Erica, how she had been kidnapped by that serial killer, and he started to feel like crap for accusing Stiles of hurting her. How wrong was he about Stiles?

Harry and Scott were standing outside the locker room as Stiles got there, just chatting away when they laid eyes on him.

"Dude, what was that out there?!" Harry asked incredulously as he grabbed his friend by the shoulder. "Don't tell me you were holding back on us? We could have used that powerhouse last year! Did you see the look on those jerks from Devenford?"

Stiles shyly rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been practicing hard, looks like it paid off." he laughed nervously, hoping they wouldn't notice the slight bruise on his nose or the fact he still had a small trace of the bullet wound in his arm. Wow, he didn't realize how bad that actually sounded when he thought about it until now. He covered the spot on his arm that was still healing and hoped they didn't see it beforehand.

"I guess, Dude, 54 points, are you kidding me? You got the majority of it... not to mention that buzzer shot. You were straight out of a movie, I'm not even joking." Harry laughed as Scott was eyeing Stiles suspiciously, noticing the bruise on his face and how nervous he seemed.

"Hey, Stiles, are you okay man?"

Stiles's eyes grew wide and felt a cold sweat start to run down his body. "Uh, uh yeah. I'm great. Just a little winded after all that out there."

Harry's eyes were drawn towards something behind Stiles, as his eyes grew wide and he gulped. "Oh boy, look out because here comes Mr. Harris..."

Oh great, the only person that hates me more than Flash Thompson does usually... what does he want?

"Mr. Stilinski... what a surprise show of effort you put out there tonight. If only you could put some actual effort into my class." Harris let the venomous words out causing Stiles to develop chills all down his spine.

"Well, you see Mr. Harris if you didn't hate my guts maybe I wouldn't have such a low grade in your class. Or maybe it's because I'm better looking than you. Who knows, it might just be that... low self esteem aside."

Scott grabbed Harry, pulling him into the locker room to avoid the clash that was about to happen. Harry yelped lightly as he fell into the room, leaving Stiles facing off against Harris in a staring contest that could only be described as... intense.

"Oh, pulling those cards already Stilinski, that's disappointing I was hoping to have a friendly chat with you."

"Friendly? I'm sorry to say this but you are the opposite of the word friendly. You are as hostile as someone can be without hurting people. Maybe if you weren't such a jerk all the time maybe I would try to have a nice chat with you, but I'm not going to. If there's something regarding class that is important, and doesn't call for us speaking that much, then get it out there, otherwise I'm going to leave whatever this is, and you can go on your day, kicking sacks of puppies or stealing candy from babies or whatever it is you do."

"Rude, but acceptable. Seeing as the past has dictated, I'll give you that one. I came to ask you if Ms. Reyes is capable of showing up to class on Monday and helping you finish that project. As you know, it's due Wednesday."

"So, there is a little heart behind that cold shriveled up husk of a soul. I don't know, as you said, Erica and I aren't together anymore, so I don't really keep tabs on her all that much. She personally tries to avoid me the best she can. So, I'm not the person you want to ask about Erica. If that's all..."

"No, I'm afraid not, Mr. Stilinski. I'm not only here because of class, but rather because I've noticed that you have been missing school a lot more as of recent."

"I've been sick Mr. H, what can I say? Look, it's terrifying you're actually interested in what's going on with me, so I'm going to get out of here before I have a heart attack or you peel your face off to reveal your true demonic self."

Stiles went into the locker room as Harris narrowed his eyes in disgust.

"The analysis is done Mr. Osborn." came the voice of Otto Octavius through the phone as Norman stood up from his desk, as he was preparing to head home. He walked downstairs to the lab where Justin and Shaw were both waiting for him to arrive.

"The results?" Norman asked as Octavius gave a smile. "Something good, I hope?"

"Indeed. I believe Subject One, as you call him, since I do not know his name, may be the one you're looking for after all. The deterioration effects we witnessed in the first sample have, in layman's terms, reversed themselves."

"Are you saying he's healing?" Norman asked with intrigue.

Octavius nodded before continuing. "The boy is a healthy specimen, if not healthier. His metabolism is somewhat akin to let's say... that of a long distance runner or an Olympic level athlete."

"What will happen as his condition progresses?"

"There is no worry now, his condition has stabilized. His blood count is normal. I believe if anything the boy is going to get better, if that's even possible... he's healing rapidly. The seizure you said he experienced, I don't think it was him dying at all. I think it was to help him become the perfect vessel for his powers. Think about it, if he was a regular human before he got those powers, to have such abilities thrust into you, the strain on your body would be so immense. I think Dr. Gajos knew this would happen in all honesty. But I cannot say. She was an intuitive one."

"That she was... that is all Octavius, you can go ahead and head home for the night."

So Stilinski is stabilizing, and from what Shaw said he has powers after all. He might be the key to saving my life... all I need to do is lay a trap for the Spider, and wait...

Stilinski Household

Okay, so the basketball game went well, extremely well. Dad got to be proud of me for once, and I possibly mended things with Flash. Now all I gotta do is help capture the Identity Thief, save Erica from him... Help Derek rescue Cora, and Laura. Laura will be faster since we know she is in Oscorp Tower. I have my Web Shooters now so that won't be as much of a problem. So, there's a few things I still have to do, but I can get them done before Norman kills me... I mean I got some time. Madame Web said I was running out of time, but I figure she meant that I had a few days left at least. If I can't stop the Identity Thief, the least I can do is save Laura. But, what about Dad? I gotta make sure he's okay after I'm gone...

I should talk to Scott, make sure I end things with him on a good note, maybe do something with him before things go south. I've basically ignored him since the field trip, and I hate to do that. I didn't think I was going to get super powers only to die a little while after. What luck do I have...

Stiles stepped through the kitchen doorway looking at the table seeing stacks of papers on the table. Being the curious teenager he was he couldn't help but take a look at them. He quickly saw that these were bills, some of which were his hospital bills. Some bills were overdue, and by the time Stiles counted all of the bills together, they equaled just about 5 grand. He lowered his head, realizing that he was making things harder on his father.

A funeral would cost a lot more... and that was the least of his problems at the moment. Stiles would figure something out to help his father... he just needed to figure some stuff out.

After all, he still had to pay off the jeep's repairs, which was three grand. So he had to find a way to get eight grand.

I'm going to need a miracle at this point. he thought to himself as he walked upstairs heading to his room to look up a way to make some money, and fast.

Searching for ads online, Stiles eventually came across an ad for wrestling...

"Survive three minutes in the cage with the widely proclaimed master of disaster... the undefeated champion, Bonesaw... and win ten thousand dollars... free entries..." Stiles read the ad, smiling menacingly as he felt his mind go to work. "Starts tomorrow at 4, huh? Three minutes in a steel cage with some guy in a unitard, that will be easy."

He thought up of a costume he could wear, and went to work to create an outfit for the event.

Some black spray paint, a large stencil, and a red hoodie and Stiles had himself a uniform. He got a mask made and everything, covering his mouth, but left room for his eyes. His gloves were easy enough to get from a store for a couple bucks, adjusting them so they were padded, which would have less strain on his knuckles while fighting. Stiles smiled at his work, put it away in a briefcase underneath his bed and laid down, needing to make sure he had plenty of rest for tomorrow, with no idea as to what was to come...

Sunday, August 26th.

So, as it would turn out, I wasn't the only one that was looking forward to facing this "Bonesaw" guy. He looked mean and strong, with muscles practically popping from his outfit. At the moment he was fighting some G.I. Joe knockoff and tossed the smaller man over his shoulder, before slamming him into the ring. If I didn't have my powers, I would have thought this might have been a mistake, but I wasn't worried. The only thing I had to worry about was something like a knife or gun, and you know what, this wasn't one of those places that would include those. At least, I hoped not...

I watched as Bonesaw climbed onto one of the corners and showed his guns to the crowd, which they roared in response. The reigning champion then turned and leapt off the corner, bringing his elbow down on the poor guy's collar bone. That guy was going to the hospital, there was no doubt about it in my mind. The referee counted down as I saw someone in the arena stands lift a banner that read BONESAW: MASTER OF DISASTER!

Ain't that something to be said about the fan-base for this guy? The referee finished counting and Bonesaw stood tall next to his quite possibly crippled opponent. I could hear the wrestler cry out through the cheers: "Who's the man?!" as medics put G.I. Joe on a gurney and carried him away. The crowd answered Bonesaw's question with an outstanding: "BONESAW! BONESAW! BONESAW!"

He might be the champion, but he hadn't faced The Spider yet...

The ring announcer, wearing a groovy gold snakeskin jacket stepped into the ring next to Bonesaw holding his hand out towards him. "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for BONESAAAAW... MCGRAAAAAAAAW!" The audience was practically shaking the building with their excitement. "For ten THOUSAND dollars, is there no one here man enough to stay in the ring for three minutes with this Titan of Testosterooooone?!" he made the word longer as most announcers would, as Stiles kept his mask on tight, feeling confident about his chances against the wrestler.

Boos rang out everywhere while Bonesaw was literally getting greased by his posse.

No wonder the guy's so hard to face. He's more slippery than a snake, literally.

"WHO? I know who... The Flying DUTCHMAAAAN!"

Stiles made his way up to the sign up line while "The Flying Dutchman" dealt with Bonesaw. The lady at the table announced: "Next!" upon Stiles approaching. Upon seeing him she scoffed looking behind him. "There's no featherweight division here, small fry. Next!"

"No, no... sign me up." Stiles ordered, his voice muffled by his ski mask.

The lady looked at Stiles up and down then sighed lightly. "Okay, you understand NYWL is not responsible for any injury may and probably will sustain while participating in said event, and you are participating under your own free will?"

"Yes," Stiles answered, feeling a strange sense of excitement about going out there.

Rolling her eyes, the lady scribbled down the name Stiles gave her as she drawled out "Down the hall to the ramp." As Stiles walked away, he heard her mumble "May God be with you."

Stiles heard someone scream in agony and then a loud crash as he approached the entrance to the arena. "Next victim!" Bonesaw's voice echoed in the hall, making Stiles crack his fists.

"Are you ready for mooore?!" the ring announcer cried out. The crowd immediately went into overdrive, shouting and scream that they indeed wanted more.

"Bonesaw is ready!" the wrestler proclaimed through the mic as Stiles winced at the proclamation.

Talking about himself in the third person, how many brain cells has this guy lost in the ring?

"Will the next victim please enter the arena at this time?" Taking his cue, Stiles walked down the ramp until he stood in front of a large screen, where he saw the shadow of the ring announcer approach him. Stiles laughed lightly, musing how he reminded him of Bruce Campbell. "If he can withstand just three minutes in the cage, with Bonesaw McGraw, the sum of TEN THOOOUUUSAAAND DOLLAAARS will be paid to..." he trailed off and whispered to Stiles, "What's your name, kid?"

"The Spider."

"The Spider, that's it? That's the best ya got? Very well. The... SPIDER!" he roared out to the crowd. The screen flew up and revealed "The Spider" to the waiting audience, only difference was his back was turned.

He turned to face Bonesaw who was waiting eagerly in the ring, hoping to draw more blood from his onslaught of victims. Stiles smiled underneath his ski mask as he raced forward, running past anyone who might have thrown popcorn at him. His Web Rush kicked in as he passed the previous challenger who was being carried on a gurney.

"Oh my god!" he wailed. "Oh, my legs! Oh, God! I can't feel my legs!"

Stiles didn't pay no mind though as he jumped into the ring, leaping over the ropes causing an awed gasp from the crowd, as four barred walls came down around them.

Cage match, oh cute... looks like they had "The Spider" in mind.

The walls lowered, boxing Stiles and Bonesaw inside.

The crewmen locked the cage's joints with padlocks and chains.

"Hey... Freakshow! It's playtiiiime..." Bonesaw called out as Stiles crouched down into a pose, motioning him to come at him. Bonesaw charged, as Stiles' spider sense went off, causing him to do a back flip onto the cage wall. As Stiles suspected Bonesaw slammed into the bars and fell backwards. After recovering Bonesaw spotted him. "What're you doing up there?!"

"Who me?" Stiles laughed. "I was waiting for Bonesaw to show up. You must be his little brother, Toothpick McGraw." He hid a cheeky smile underneath his mask as he taunted "That's a cute outfit. Did your husband give it to you?"

Guy seems like he's one of those hot-blooded macho mans. If only Randy Savage was here... wait, this guy actually looks like him, that's amazing.

Bonesaw growled, jumping at Stiles, but he flipped off the wall and landed behind Bonesaw, tapping him on the shoulder. "Yoo-hoo... I'm over here."

I might not need to hit him, just dodge and that money will be mine. But that wouldn't make a show, would it? I don't like being hit but letting him get a hit in might wear him down a bit. I can't use my strength the way I'd want to if it was one of Oscorp's death bots, so I'll need to pull my punches. I don't want to kill the guy.

Stiles jumped over him as Bonesaw charged once more, and when he landed his Spider Sense went off again, and when he turned, he was met with a metal chair to the face. The Cross Species fell to the floor, feeling the pain from the chair. "Ouch." he muttered as the chair was brought upon his head again. It didn't hurt as much as Stiles thought it would, making him smile as Bonesaw brought down again, only to be caught with Stiles' hand.

Stiles got up, throwing the chair out of the ring, as Bonesaw came at him again. Without even thinking Stiles jumped up, doing a spinning kick to Bonesaw's jaw. He was doing light but strong kicks to Bonesaw's torso in quick repetition, but he found that every single time he sent the wrestler stumbling, he came right back.

What a stubborn guy... Stiles thought as Bonesaw lunged at him one final time, and with a plan in mind, Stiles dived downward, grabbing Bonesaw by the waist, and slamming him into the metal bars on the far wall. It appeared Bonesaw hit his head because he fell flat on the ground, and stayed there, as he was unconscious.

The cage walls were unlocked and lifted as the referee came running in, counting down and then ran to Stiles. "That's it! That's it!" He grabbed Stiles' wrist, forcing his hand up in victory. "WINNER!"

The ring announcer jogged around the circumference of the arena, proudly proclaiming "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the new champion: THE SPIDER!"

Stiles smiled, happy he was going to get that ten grand to help out his father, and then some.

The manager slipped a hundred dollar bill onto his desk, as Stiles took it while he counted the rest of the money. Strangely enough, when he noticed Stiles, he frowned and gestured to the door. "Now get outta here."

Stiles returned his frown and looked down at the bill in his hand. "A hundred bucks? The ad said ten grand."

The manager snapped his head at him and barked "Well check it again, spider... it said ten grand for three minutes, and you pinned him in two. For that," he pointed at the bill in Stiles' hand "you get a hundred, and you're lucky to get that."

Stiles sighed before bending over to face the manager dead in the eyes. "Then how about you give me the money that was earned for two minutes... by my knowledge that should be 6,666 dollars, with some change as well..."

"How about you get the hell outta my office before I call security," he snapped as Stiles's eyes turned pitch black, causing the manager to get scared, but didn't back off of the threat.

"Fine, but understand, karma's a bitch. Remember that."

"I missed the part about where that's my problem."

Stiles walked away with the hundred in hand as a man with frosted hair entered the room, having been waiting behind him. A minute later as Stiles reached the elevator the guy with the frosted hair came running with a bag in his hand, with security and the manager came in tow. Stiles had almost broke the call button from pushing it so hard when it opened.

"Stop that guy!" the security guard pointed towards the guy.

"STOP HIM! HE'S GOT MY MONEY!"

So, this guy robbed the guy who stiffed me? Stiles shrugged as he casually stepped to the side as the robber threw himself into the elevator, but not before hitting Stiles with a thick envelope. He hit the button to get out of there, as the door closed... looking at Stiles saying "Thanks!"

Stiles hid the envelope as the security guard and the manager got to him, just short of the door and glared at him. "What the hell's the matter with you? You let him go!"

The guard took off, calling out orders into his walkie-talkie. The manager looked helplessly at the elevator door as he stood beside Stiles, before glancing at him with a bandage to his head, the manager chided "You coulda taken that guy apart. Now he's going to get away with my money."

There was no greater satisfaction in the moment when Stiles uttered, "I missed the part where that's my problem..." The manager frowned as he walked away. "I told you, karma's a bitch."

Hiding a smug smile as he got into the elevator once it got back down, Stiles thought to himself underneath that ski mask, That'll teach you, won't it?

Stepping into the elevator Stiles looked into the envelope, finding a whole bunch of money. He counted it out, finding the rest of the ten grand he was owed was there.

Well, looks like that guy heard what happened. Thanks.

With a smile as he removed his mask, Stiles went up in the elevator with ten thousand dollars in hand...