I don't own Spider-Man.

This fic is inspired by the What If Spider-Man comic where Peter killed the burglar who murdered Uncle Ben, and he adopts the Punisher's M.O.

Please let me know what you think.

What if Spider-Man was like the Punisher?

As he swung from building to building, quickly learning the best way to do this without creating drag while he remembered everything he knew of aerodynamics, Spider-Man tried to concentrate on swinging towards the car used by his uncle rather than the vengeful wrath which had taken over.

He had learnt quickly how to web sling, but it was primarily common sense more than anything else; all he had to do was to let go of the line before gravity took hold of his body, and he had to shoot another line out quickly.

One of the many things Peter as Spider-Man regretted about living in Queens was the lack of any real building of considerable size because he could have experimented with this new skill and had become good at it; sure he had practiced using lines to swing on, but this was taking things to a whole new level.

Sadly, Peter was too angry to care, although he had let his mind race with the calculations of his weight and the pull of gravity and his own estimate of just how strong and durable the web lines were for the job, and how high he'd need to be for web-slinging to work in this part of New York. But he had decided to do it regardless, his rage towards the burglar overriding his scientific curiosity.

Ever since he had been bitten by the spider - Peter still didn't know what kind of things OSCORP industries were getting involved in to create spiders with some kind of serum to pass on its own DNA by splicing it into human bodies - Peter had been quickly drawn into fights with the jocks who'd enjoyed bullying him since time immemorial, to say nothing of that time shortly after he had gained his powers and his instinctive kindness had made him chase after a purse snatcher who'd stolen a purse from an old lady had made him chase after the thief and tackle him while he still fought with the nascent skill he had developed over the last few weeks after gaining some degree of control.

Okay, so he had put the purse snatcher into hospital, but at the same time Peter had been frightened and even unnerved, and that feeling of concern had just kept growing as he remembered that childish fight with Flash at the school, about how unforgiving he was each time.

At the same the purse snatcher had tried to stab him, only resulting in Peter making use of his new spider agility and his spider-sense to give him the best chance of overwhelming the thief and then punching his lights out.

But the purse snatcher hadn't done anything to Peter personally while deep down, despite all of those dreams where he had been driven to near madness because of what Flash was doing to him along with other jocks who chose him to pick on because he was an easy target, he had actually enjoyed beating Flash up. But looking back a part of Peter was actually ashamed about what he had done. Flash might have been a bully but he was small fry and seeing him bleeding after getting a taste of his medicine made Peter worry because he had felt nothing at all. How would he feel when he confronted the man who'd murdered his uncle?

While he had tried very hard for the last few days It wasn't hard - the burglar who'd taken Uncle Ben's car while Peter had been in the arena using his powers to get some cash so he could repay his family for their kindness had made a lot of noise and the police cars were chasing after him.

Spider-Man's eyes narrowed as he used a web line to support him as he raced across the surface of a block of apartments above a number of shops on the street level before leaping off, and shooting out a fresh line while he fell waiting for the line to hook up to a building that was further away before he did it all over again, getting closer and closer.

Spider-Man lifted his head and he realised the burglar was drawing closer to an old warehouse by the river. But it didn't matter, he was drawing closer to the burglar's stolen car - a part of him wondered if he and Aunt May would get it back or not, but right now that was irrelevant. As he swung closer, Spider-Man looked at the cars and the buildings while he tried to get closer.

"Aaarrgh! Whoa," Spider-Man cried, cursing the people who put out flag poles that got in his way while at the same time praising the people who planted them in convenient places where he could snag them with a web.

Spider-Man looked up ahead, and he grinned underneath his mask when he found himself getting closer and closer. Just a little bit more…yes. He landed on the rooftop of the car, and without giving the burglar time to get his bearings he smashed his fist through the roof, tearing apart the metal of the roof as though it were made from tin.

Spider-Man's spider-sense went off even as he tried reaching for the thief and he felt his fingertips brush against the man's face, and he jumped back automatically as a gun went off, holes appearing in the roof as the burglar fired madly. Feeling something moving that was looming to his right, Peter found himself looking at a Carlsburg lorry. Spider-Man leapt onto the top of the lorry with a single leap. Seeing a bridge up ahead while he tried to keep his eyes fixed on his uncle's car, Peter leapt into the air, screaming at how high he had to jump. He had tried this power many times before, in fact, it was the only realistic way to move from building to building in Queens, but it always caused a rush that never failed to excite him.

Just because he wanted to pummel the bastard responsible for his uncle's death didn't mean he could not enjoy himself in little moments.

Spider-Man's spider-sense went off as he reached for the thief, whose hold of the wheel veered….the car went through a gate to an abandoned factory. Peter leapt off of the car, and he had just gotten hold of a wall in time to watch the figure of the thief running into the factory. His eyes narrowed under his mask, and he webbed his way to the factory. It wasn't difficult to get inside the factory, and he could hear the thief's panicked breathing and the way he stumbled around the factory floor below. Spider-Man made his way down, using a web line to descend slowly. The thief was pacing around, looking frantically for an escape route before he found an old door, and he threw himself at it.

Spider-Man dropped down and was glad to give him a hand. The thief yelled and he tried to wriggle out of the iron hold Spider-Man had on him, and he was thrown at the door repeatedly. He yelled in pain when Spider-Man roughly grabbed him bodily and threw him at the already broken panes of glass and rusted iron frames before Spider-Man began pummelling the thief with bone-breaking blows. The thief screamed in agony, somehow he was able to bring up his gun arm…but Spider-Man grabbed the fist and crushed it like a water biscuit…with the handle of the gun still there.

"W-wait, please, don't….N-no, wait!" The burglar cried, terrified while he tried to recover his breath, but Spider-Man was too fast. The burglar screamed as Spider-Man hauled him up and yanked off his mask and pushed him against a patch of wall where the light was streaming in from the outside.

And then he paused in horror.

No.

He recognised this face. The thin, almost gaunt face, the fading blond hair, the stubble. Spider-Man dropped the stunned burglar, horrified. He had seen this man only an hour ago. He was the same burglar he had seen at the arena! As if his mind was a DVD player, Peter slowly rewound the events of the last hour. He had walked away from the arena office, positive the manager was as sleazy as he'd appeared when the guy had given him a hundred bucks when the ad in the paper, the same ad which had attracted him to the arena in the first place, had told him he would get $400 if he won.

Who cared how long it should have taken for him to put down a wrestler? Peter just genuinely didn't care, but he had been close, really close to smashing the manager and his dogsbody who'd stood by like a bodyguard/assistant/driver before he had decided the bastard just wasn't worth it, so he'd left, absently noticing the man he was passing by who was this same gaunt man with the blond hair which looked like it was fading out of the head. But Peter hadn't bothered to notice as he just walked away, and he hadn't bothered stopping the man when he had seen him wave that gun around after robbing the manager.

An old rent-a-cop had yelled for him to stop the burglar, but Peter had told him he had been ripped off, why should he lift a finger? All he had done was step out of the way.

The manager had lied. He had put a false ad in a newspaper. Why should he raise a finger a help? But how could this be? How could the burglar have left the arena, run outside and killed Uncle Ben when there could have been dozens of people out there with a car, or even a taxi?

What had made Uncle Ben stand out?

Had his Uncle made the mistake of trying to stop the burglar when he realised who and what he was? Peter knew his uncle was a good man, a man who'd glamourised superheroes for years, but surely he wasn't stupid enough to go after a man who was younger, stronger and had a gun? How could he have killed Uncle Ben? What the hell had happened? Had Uncle Ben just been outside, and the burglar attacked him? That seemed plausible, but why Uncle Ben?

So strong was his shock that Peter didn't even realise until it was nearly too late when he felt his spider-sense go off, and when he came back to the here and now, he saw the burglar was free - he had let him go, clearly but he hadn't realised it - and he heard the flick of a knife. That was what had set his spider sense off.

The burglar, grimacing with pain from the beating he'd just gotten, called up whatever reserves of strength he had, and he tried to throw himself at Spider-Man.

Spider-Man reacted without thinking; he lashed out with a punch powered by all of his spider-strength straight to the man's head. There was a terrible crack as the blow broke the burglar's skull, driving some of the bone into the thief's brain. The burglar only had a moment to let out a small whimper, before he died.

Spider-Man looked down at the body in shock. He glanced down at his fist, his heart pounding while his head began to spin as the full impact of what he had just done settled into his mind. He had attacked a thief, launching crippling and potentially fatal blows before he had killed him with a blow to the head.

Peter began gasping as he felt the bile rise up in his throat. He was about to bend down and puke, but he quickly held himself back when he realised if he left a pile of vomit behind he could potentially put himself at risk with the police when they saw it, and his spider-sense was vibrating within his mind, alerting him to their presence. Pushing aside his nausea with whatever control he possessed, Spider-Man leapt into the air and crawled rapidly out of the factory. When he reached the top of the roof, only then did he vomit.

He had just killed a man in cold blood after methodically beating him almost to death, Peter remembered the satisfying way the bones had been broken, but he quickly silenced that thought in his mind. But when he remembered the beating, he couldn't justify it being in self-defence. He had lashed out in anger, but he had acted in self-defence when he'd punched the man in the head, right?

And yet, despite the nausea which was wearing off, Peter could not believe himself when he realised….it actually felt right.