-CHAPTER EIGHT: SHERE KHAN-

. . .

. . .

Peter Parker

"No."

"Yep."

"No way."

I give Ned a look. "Yes way."

"Dude," his face twists in sympathy, and he sucks in a breath through his teeth. "That is rough. I don't even know what else to say."

I let my head hit the wall behind me with a dull thud as I gaze up at the ceiling. "Me either."

"Your aunt is really going out on a date with that beefy zoo trainer?"

"She really is."

Silence descends on Ned's bedroom, lit by the array of computer monitors gifted to him by Mr. Stark and a purple lightsaber mounted on the wall above his bed. Ned twists his desk chair back and forth, feet planted on the floor. His lips part, then close again.

"What?" I ask after a solid minute of this.

"I . . . are you okay? This is the first time she's gone out since . . . isn't it?"

I swallow. "It is. And . . . I don't know."

Ned tilts his head, brows creasing.

"Okay, fine, no, I am not okay. I'm freaking the hell out." I push off the wall to start pacing the length of Ned's room. The sound of running water and dishes clanging together is muffled from beyond the door, so I don't worry about his mom hearing our conversation.

"Yeah, I get that."

"I don't trust him," I say abruptly. "I get a really bad vibe from Logan. Like, the dangerous kind. You know what . . . I think I should follow them. As Spiderman. You know, just in case."

"What? Dude, no! You can't do that!"

"Why not? They won't even know I'm there."

"That's not the point, Peter. That's like, a major invasion of your aunt's privacy!"

I run my hands through my hair, resisting the urge to yank it all out. "Safety is more important than privacy. I'm telling you, Logan West is not a good guy."

"He saved us from the tiger," points out Ned.

"Which was rather convenient, don't you think?"

He blinks. "I mean, yeah, I'd say not getting mauled on my biology field trip is pretty convenient."

"That's not what I mean."

"Look, Peter . . . is this really about Logan?"

I stop pacing. "What?"

"I mean, I don't think it would matter who your aunt was dating," Ned says gently. "Maybe you're just having a hard time because this is the first time May is going out since Ben died."

"That is not it."

"Okay."

"It's not."

"Okay, I said."

I grab the folding chair against the wall, the one I use when we are playing video games together on his PS4. I place it before him backwards and sit facing Ned. "Let's look at the timeline here."

"Ooh wouldn't it be cool if we had one of those bulletin boards with pictures and cut out articles and red string and stuff?"

"Focus, Ned."

"Sorry."

"So I start experiencing the 'being watched' episodes. We all assume it's PTSD at first, until the murderous cyber ninja attack at that abandoned warehouse and the subsequent hacking of my suit and erasing of the footage."

Ned nods along. "Right."

"Clearly it isn't paranoia, because this guy set a trap for me."

"Yeah, but for what? He didn't kill or capture you to torture you for information. Why set the trap and erase the footage from your suit?"

"I think it was some kind of test," I say, gesturing with my hands. "And whoever he is, I know he's still watching."

"Because of the spidey-sense."

"Right."

"Okay, so where does Logan West come into all of this?"

I stare at him meaningfully.

Ned stares back, then his face twists. "Oh come on. You think Logan West is the murderous cyber ninja?"

"Think about it," I say excitedly, scooting closer. "All of this is happening, and there just happens to be a tiger let loose at the zoo the same day we were there on a field trip? And it just happens to be when you and May are standing there?"

"The tiger wasn't let loose. Some idiot didn't lock up properly. It happens. I could show you fifty videos of animal escapes at zoos on YouTube."

I shake my head. "It's not a coincidence, Ned. I think Logan West is the one who allowed the tiger to escape."

Ned leans back in his chair. "Sure, so Logan West lets it out so he can heroically swoop in and rescue your beautiful aunt from certain death." His eyes widen. "Oh my god. He's been stalking and attacking you all to get to date Aunt May. We've uncovered his nefarious plan to end his single life and settle down."

"Sarcasm? Really?"

"Dude, come on. You have to realize how crazy this sounds. I think you hate that your aunt is dating again, so you're connecting dots that are entirely unrelated."

"What are you, my shrink now?" I push away from the chair, scowling.

"No, I'm your best friend. And I think you're going through a really hard time right now. I get it. If someone was trying to date my mom after what you guys have been through, I'd be freaking out too."

I'm seconds away from putting my head through the wall. I walk over to Ned and grab the arms of his chair. "Ned," I pause. "Everyone in my life thinks I'm mentally unstable and hallucinating right now. No one believes me. I really need my best friend to."

Ned stares at me, his eyes searching my face. He takes a breath. "Okay," he says simply.

"Okay?" I blink, drawing back.

"Okay. I believe you."

His expression is so completely sincere, it takes me a second to process the switch. Were it anyone else, I would think that they were just placating me. But not loyal, infallible, awesome Ned Leeds.

"So what do we do next?" he asks. "I still don't think following them on their date is a viable option. I think we need to do a background check on Logan, see who this guy really is."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's a good idea."

The tension that was wracking my body since the moment May told me she was having dinner with Logan West is just . . . gone. I didn't realize how desperate I was to have someone believe me, until someone finally did.

"Also, about the totally disastrous virtual reality training session you did with the Avengers . . . are you sure it can't actually generate Darth Vader for us to fight?"

"Ned, one problem at a time."

"Noted. But I'm telling you now, the odds of me letting this one go are slim to none."

I eye the shelves upon shelves above the computer monitors, littered with every single Star Wars LEGO set that's been created. The crown jewels, the Death Star and Millennium Falcon, both rest in a spot of honor at the center of the collection.

And I decide that for being the only one choosing to believe me, for helping me like he is, I owe him big.

"Okay," Ned cracks his knuckles, spinning around in his chair to face the computers. "Guy in the Chair, at your service. Let's do this."

Bucky Barnes

. . .

I flip the lights on as I enter my apartment, tossing my keys and jacket on the small table and leaving them there as I head to the kitchen.

The place is a small, one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. One of the rougher areas. Tony Stark was baffled when I told him which place I finally settled on. With the salary I earn working with the Avengers, I could afford a much more extravagant place to live.

But extravagance isn't for me. And old habits die hard.

It's better to blend in, to stay somewhere average and unobtrusive, somewhere that won't draw attention.

I'm not hunted anymore, but this feels a lot more secure than some fancy, high tech place upstate.

The beer opens in my hands with a slight hiss, the bottle cap clattering onto the counter as I move into the living room, plopping down onto the worn out armchair, the only piece of furniture in the room besides the television sitting on the cardboard box it came in.

It's ridiculously sized, paper thin, and something to do with 4K. A housewarming gift from Stark, who insisted I have something to do at home other than stare at the corner and mark the days on the wall with a piece of chalk.

And, despite my initial irritation, I find myself grateful for it. It at least keeps the shadows at bay on the bad days where the silence starts to close in on me. The monsters of my past live in that quiet. Mostly, they sleep. But once in awhile, the silence draws out the screams, the blood . . .

The television blinks to life, the remote firmly in my free hand as I take a swig of beer. It's on some older sitcom, a bunch of thirty-something-year-olds hanging out in an oddly decorated apartment.

I flip the channel.

Some commercial for toilet paper.

Flip.

A news anchor is blabbing about a tiger escape and near attack at the Bronx Zoo. My brow lifts at that, but my finger starts to press down on the remote's channel button.

The screen switches from the news anchor to footage people shot themselves on their iphones instead of running like hell.

Idiots.

There's a small mass of New Yorkers sprinting down a hill encased with jungle-like trees, some of them screaming. There's a distant snarl.

I take another drink.

Someone knocks into the person filming, causing the view to blur onto the ground before aiming back up at the building where the tiger supposedly escaped from. A brown-haired teenager is sprinting up the hill toward the danger.

I straighten. Pause the TV.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Peter Parker

. . .

"Okay, no offense Peter, but your ideas tonight? Kinda the worst."

I don't answer.

After a moment of enduring my silence, Ned adds, "Just telling you like it is, man."

"There's nothing wrong with investigating the scene of a crime. That's like, in Spiderman's job description."

"Breaking and entering is teetering into a gray area."

Finishing my swing, I land on a thick tree branch and crouch there for a moment. "It's spy work, dude."

"It's unnecessary."

"What happened to all the belief?"

"Hey, I still believe!" protests Ned. "I'm just saying, you could be in my room mowing down on Doritos while I hack into the Zoo's security feed and investigate via technology."

"There's plenty we could miss just looking through cameras."

"Also, what do you expect to find? If Logan let the tiger out, you're not going to find anything incriminating like broken locks or whatever."

"There's no footage of whoever let the tiger out."

"Yeah, because the security cameras don't record. It's just a live feed that someone's always monitoring. Night guards and day guards."

"Right, so maybe I find something in person that security missed."

"But-"

"Ned?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe just let me do my thing?"

"Sure, sure. I'll save the 'I told you so' for when you get caught by security."

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," I say, then swing to the next tree, eyeing the zoo gates, lights illuminating the locked turnstyles. "Have you hacked into the cameras yet?"

"Of course. You're all clear. Just keep an eye out for the security guards. Godspeed, Spiderman. Guy in the Chair, over and out."

"Karen, it's time to test out the new stealth mode," I say, cracking my neck side to side.

Glancing down at my suit, I watch as the fibers begin to ripple, radiating out from the spider emblem on my chest. They take on a mirror-like translucent quality, and in seconds, I'm practically invisible.

After settling back on Earth, I took the list of upgrades I came up with while in alien territory to Mr. Stark, who agreed with the changes and put me to work on enhancing my suit myself, with his supervision and occasional assistance.

My suit is now upgraded with tiny retro-reflective panels that activate whenever I enter stealth mode. It's the same technology S.H.I.E.L.D. outfitted their helicarriers with, scaled way down into fibers inlaid into my suit.

One of many essential upgrades.

Straightening, I fire a web into the night sky and swing.

Dodging security is laughably easy. With my spider-sense warning me of any approaching guards, of which there are very few, and with Ned commandeering the footage of the security feed, it's a breeze maneuvering my way through the zoo.

The enclosures themselves are dark, the pathways between illuminated with street lamps, but the zoo is far from asleep.

Many of the animals are nocturnal, and they make their presences known through all sorts of calls and chittering noises. Somewhere in the distance, a lion is letting out a guttural sound it repeats with each breath, claiming the territory.

"Just passing through, buddy," I mutter under my breath, crawling across the roof of the reptile house and staying low.

The retro-reflective technology will make me much harder to see, especially in the shadows, but anyone observant enough could catch the slight distortion my blurred silhouette makes in the night.

I flatten myself to the roof as one of the zoo security personnel strolls down the path, flashlight in hand, yawning.

"Dude."

I startle slightly at Ned's voice in my ear. "What?" I whisper. "I thought you were over and out."

"What kind of guy in the chair would I be if I left you hanging?"

Spotting the jungle-like trees framing the path to the tiger enclosure, I fire off a web and swing my way into the branches. "What's up, Ned?"

"I got the downlow on Logan West."

"Hydra operative? Russian spy? Shape-shifting alien?"

"Dolphin trainer."

I nearly fall off the branch. "What?"

"Kidding. But he's definitely a hardcore conservationist. He's done work all over the globe stopping poachers and working with endangered animals. There's a viral video of him reuniting with a lion he rescued as a cub, and it like, totally remembers and adores him. Aww, it's actually pretty cute."

I scowl beneath my mask, darting from tree to tree. A cold sweat is suddenly dampening my skin, my pulse accelerating though I'm far from fatigued or out of breath.

Karen's voice chirps in my ear. "Your vitals indicate you are experiencing high levels of anxiety."

Then Ned's. "Dude, you okay?"

"Fine," I mutter, taking a moment to rest as I stick to a thick trunk.

The winding branches and thick canopy form familiar shadows in the darkness. If I squint, I can almost see beads of red light veining the leaves and running down the bark.

I blink rapidly, clearing away the crimson.

Not real. These are imported plants in the middle of a zoo. There's no red light, no predators lurking in the trees around me or on the ground below, ready to blast me with scarlet heat or spear me to the branches.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"What else?" I manage, eyeing the diagnostics in the corner of my lenses. Pulse is still high, but nowhere near panic attack territory.

Ned continues, "He's forty three, graduated from Cal Poly with a Master's in Animal Science, has been all over the world, and I mean, all over, and he's worked at several zoos, the most recent being San Diego."

"Spies have to travel all over the world. An animal trainer/conservationist would be a good cover," I say as I land on top of the Tiger Pavilion in a low crouch.

"True. Oh hey, looks like he's never been married."

" . . . how is that relevant?"

"My mom tells me all the time that it's a red flag if the person I'm dating has been married multiple times."

"Dude, you're sixteen."

"Try telling my mom that."

Staying low, I peer into the tiger enclosure, the distant lights reflecting off the pond's rippling surface. A gentle breeze passes through the bamboo and trees within.

"No tigers, right?"

"Nope! They are both still sedated in the medical center as a precaution. Oh . . . yeesh."

"What?" I ask, half hanging over the side of the enclosure, ready to drop in.

"Logan West's Tinder. I can't imagine many ladies swiping left on this guy. He has muscles for daaaays plus pictures with exotic baby animals."

Rolling my eyes, I drop. My feet land on the grassy slope, and I do a quick circle, taking in my surroundings.

It's still enough like a foreign jungle in here for the cold sweat to linger on my skin, but the big glass windows along the curve of the building help ground me in the moment.

It doesn't take me long to find the gates employees use to enter the enclosure, and I have Karen do several scans as I inspect every inch of it and the area around it for clues. I'm not sure what I expect to find.

News reports stated that the escape was blamed on a new employee not following protocol and safety procedures while coming in and out of the enclosure. Unfortunately, the gate itself isn't one of the areas monitored by camera, so there's no way to see exactly how the gate got open.

And a whopping amount of six employees were on record passing through the gate within the last twenty four hours before the escape, none of which included Logan West.

I inspect it all anyways, using Karen's scanners to detect anything that my eyes can't.

C'mon, give me something, here.

There's a huge yawn in my ear.

"I'm sorry, am I boring you?" I whisper.

"Sorry man, it's like, way past my bedtime."

"It's only one in the morning. You stay up until almost three most nights playing The Old Republic."

"Hey, I'm doing hardcore research over here. Takes a lot of brain power. Finding anything on your end."

"No," I admit reluctantly. "I don't know, Ned. Felt wrong not to check it out myself."

"I get it. Why don't we call it a night and start sleuthing again tomorrow?"

"May's date is tomorrow. I was kinda hoping to have something more concrete than, 'I have a bad feeling about this guy that is entirely unrelated to my own selfishness and PTSD'."

I fire a web, pulling myself back up into the trees.

"Honestly, Peter? I think that would be enough for your aunt. She kinda adores you."

There's a weight in my stomach, trying to pull me back down to the earth below. "Yeah . . . I know. I just don't want her thinking I'm not okay with her dating again. I want her to be happy. It's just-"

"Not with the exotic creeper who may or may not be the murderous cyber ninja?"

"Exactly. But without proof, she's gonna think it's an excuse I came up with because I'm not ready or I'm too traumatized or whatever." I stealthily make my way out of the zoo, my mind whirring with possible ways I can get May to cancel or postpone without coming across as psycho or self-centered.

"Let's sleep on it, and I can do some more digging at school tomorrow. We got this."

"Thanks, man," I say, and mean it. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He signs out for real this time, and I'm left with my own thoughts for company as I make my way back home, swinging and roof jumping and hitching rides when I can.

Logan West's face keeps flashing in my head. That moment our eyes locked, and I knew I was looking at a predator. My body recognized the danger, and so did my spidey-sense. It felt . . . it felt like facing down one of the Dravek, only instead of the alien visage, one of those hunters wore a human face.

The idea of May alone with him . . .

I pause, sticking in a crouch on a lamp post, the hair on the back of my neck rising. At first I think it's from the course my thoughts have taken, but then I realize I'm feeling it again. That sensation of being watched.

"Karen," I mutter. "Scan for nearby life forms."

The A.I. obeys, my lenses flaring with thermal data as I look around cautiously.

"Where are you?"

There's a flicker of red-orange in the far alley before it's gone in a sea of fuzzy blues and purples.

"Karen, transmit a live feed to Ned Leeds."

"Yes, Peter."

Blinking away the thermal imaging, I'm off at break-neck speed, teeth clenched, heart racing, and in seconds I'm at the throat of the alley, crouched and ready.

It's wider than most, lined with dumpsters overflowing with trash, stacks of crates and a distant metal fence all bent and worn like it's been climbed a thousand times. The quiet presses in, the feeling of eyes on me so intense, it's a physical touch on my skin.

"Alright," I call out, straightening. "I'm here."

Nothing.

I walk into the alley, arms raised. "What, you don't want to play anymore? Hide and seek is getting pretty old, pal. How about tag instead?"

I'm halfway down the alley, sidestepping a very questionable puddle, scanning every shadowy crevice. "Marco? . . . This is the part where you say -"

"Polo."

The voice is distorted by some kind of voice changer, and, sensing the motion at my back, I twist to the side, one hand pressing to the ground as I flip out of the way of a massive fist.

Crouching defensively, low to the ground, I glare up at the hulking masked figure before me, straightening from his attack.

"There you are," I say. "Wrangle any tigers lately?"

He says nothing, and instead begins to circle around me, slow and assessing.

I was right. A predator.

"You take off your mask, I'll take off mine," I offer, shifting to keep him in my sights. It's Logan West, it has to be him. Same size, same build, that same feeling of wrong. And if I'm right, he already knows my face.

He knows everything.

He jerks forward, as if to attack, and I dart back, sticking to the side of the fire escape as the figure rolls his shoulders, cocking his head like I did exactly what he expected me to do.

Fine. I'll get that mask off myself.

I fire off a web, then a second one, rapid fire. He dodges the first easily, then the second, but the second one latched onto a wooden crate behind him, and I yank it forward.

The wood smashes and splinters into his back, sending him staggering forward, right into my waiting fist.

He catches my second punch, twisting my arm back in a maneuver I recognize from Natasha's training. I slip out of the hold before he can complete it, barrelling my knee into his meaty thigh, which he dodges and leaves his back exposed.

I'm on him, crouching up on his shoulders, and as his arms come up, lightning fast, to yank me off, I'm releasing my web grenades, latching his limbs back down to his sides. He stumbles, but I keep my grip on him, heart hammering as my fingers seize the bottom of his mask.

"Tag," I say triumphantly, lifting the material. "You're i-oomph!"

The air rushes out of me, pain splintering through my back as the weight of the masked man slams me into the brick wall. For a second I can't breathe, and my grip goes lax. He leans forward, and before he can body slam me again, I clamber up the wall and flip away, wheezing slightly.

Then I watch as, with a distorted grunt, my attacker flexes his arms and bursts free of the webbing, pieces of it fluttering to the ground like wisps of torn paper.

He cracks his neck side to side, and I get the sudden, sinking feeling that up until now, he's been playing with me, letting me get my shots in, seeing what I would do.

Now it's his turn.

. . .

. . .

A/N:

Hey strangers. It's been awhile. I hope you guys are staying healthy and safe out there!

I'm happy to report, this Queen is now a Mrs.! And now that wedding planning has stopped taking over my life, I can finally get back to writing! Life is still crazy with work, the coming holidays, and this freaking pandemic, but without a wedding hanging over my head anymore, I have a little free time!

I wanted to thank each of you who has chosen the Paint it Black series as your escape from 2020, rereading and leaving me notes that just make me feel fantastic. Creating the CMFU has provided me with such a fun outlet and escape from reality, and I'm so glad I've been able to provide that to you guys as well. Seeing the occasional reviews and words of encouragement pop up here and there, even when I've been so awful about updating, makes my day and encourages me to keep going!

If you're still with me, still invested in this story and the ones to come, leave me a note!

And, if you haven't already, go check out Pippin Strange's content for more mind blowing Marvel fanfic. Those stories were what got me going, and her writing is the most phenomenal on this entire site.

Thank you to everyone still reading these stories! Much love!