Spider-Man: High School Rules
3: Glory, at a Cost
Author's Note: I'm trying not to take too many ideas from the movies, but I quite like this telling of how Peter first becomes "Spider-Man" and I feel as though I made it different enough from the movie in this adaptation. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!
Days had passed since the incident at school – Peter's fight with Flash Thompson and, subsequently, his full realisation of his powers, as well as his falling out with Ben. It was Friday, the end of the school week, and the hype and circulation around the fight had not quite died down.
Upon Peter's return to Midtown the day after the fight, he would be swarmed by groups of people asking him about the fight, some in a mocking tone.
"Have you come back to finish what Flash started?" some random brunette called out to him from her group of friends as he walked past them in the hallway. Not knowing what the most appropriate way to react was, Pete kept his head down and kept moving.
Gwen and Harry quickly grew privy to the fact that Peter was not interested in any of the attention surrounding the fight, nor did he want it in the first place. All Peter could wonder was how Flash was feeling about all this – to be humiliated by the one person you have picked on since the start of high school, and have everyone know about it.
Whatever, Peter thought. If you're gonna be a little shit to the people around you, then you'll get what's coming to you. Why should I care about Flash, anyway? He wouldn't feel the same if he came out on top; he never did.
As a matter of fact, Peter had hardly seen Flash at all since he returned, aside from the odd class they shared together. In science classes, he was quiet and reserved, seeming almost embarrassed; a stark contrast to the loud-mouthed, boisterous jackass he usually is. This seemed to adequately answer Peter's question as to how he was doing.
Finally, Peter thought as he stared at the back of Flash's head. The tables have turned, our roles are reversed. I'm not suited to be a "popular kid", I know that – but our power dynamic has completely flipped on its head.
Peter, snapping out of his trance, noticed Jason, sat to Flash's right, staring at him over his shoulder. He nervously corrected himself, shuffling in his seat and looking to the front of the class.
The bell rang, and the students stood up out of their seats, packing their bags and making their way out of the class. Pete started to go over to Harry and Gwen, joining them as they walked to their next class, before Mr Palmer called out his name.
"Parker!" the science teacher stopped him, standing at his desk at the front of the room and motioning with his finger. Alongside him was Liz Allen.
"Uh – I'll see you guys later, then," Peter said quietly to Harry and Gwen.
"What's this about?" Harry asked before Peter headed off – Peter simply shrugged his shoulders in response, walking over to the front desk as the last remaining students left the classroom. He stood awkwardly next to Liz; afraid to even look at her, but he could tell she was masking a look of disdain.
"As we have discussed, Miss Allen, you've expressed that sometimes you feel a little lost in our lessons," Mr Palmer began, "Which brings up the possibility of tutoring."
Parker caught on quick – Mr Palmer was going to try to get him to tutor Liz; oh, what a joy.
"Which brings me on to you, Mr Parker," Palmer turned to him, "Throughout your high school career, you've displayed an excellent understanding of science; more specifically, biology. I think Miss Allen here could really benefit from your understanding."
Peter glanced over at Liz, who looked at him from the corner of her eyes.
"Well," Peter stuttered, "I mean, I'm probably not the most qualified to be doing this -"
"Parker, please," Mr Palmer intruded, "You're as knowledgeable as any biology teacher. Miss Allen won't bite!"
The two exchanged an awkward glance again.
"Of course, if this isn't a suitable arrangement, we can find -"
"No, it's fine," Liz interrupted, "I guess Parker won't be so bad."
Peter could hardly believe it – he expected Liz to put up more of a fight than this.
"Excellent!" Palmer clapped his hands together, "That alright with you, Parker?"
"Uh, yes," Peter stammered, "Yeah, sure, of course."
"Great" Palmer walked around his desk, sitting down in his seat, which creaked slightly under his weight, "Now, I'm holding you both responsible, here. It's up to each of you to arrange times and turn up, understand?"
"Got it," Liz affirmed while Peter nodded.
"Best of luck," Palmer waved them away, "You two best be on your way to class."
Peter and Liz walked quietly out the room. Pete caught her attention before she walked off.
"So, erm – when's a good ti-"
"I'll text you," Liz answered bluntly, barely looking at him, "Then we'll organize a time and place we can meet. Got it?"
"R-right, yeah," Peter nodded as she walked away. "See you around, I guess," he said under his breath before he turned the other way. Typical Parker luck, he thought, to be stuck tutoring the girlfriend of the guy who hates you more than anyone in the world.
The tutoring sessions with Liz were not the only thing that caused him concern; the upcoming wrestling match that Saturday was also giving him the nerves. Though he was confident in his super-strength and had been working on a wrestling name and alter-ego, he feared that, in the last minute, he would be overcome with stage fright, leading to a horrific and humiliating defeat at the hands of Bonesaw.
Running through the halls as he processed all of this, Peter managed to arrive at his next class on time, sitting at his desk besides Gwen, with Harry in front of him and to the right. Gwen leaned over her desk, nudging him.
"Hey, what was that about?"
Pete spoke in a hushed tone as he leaned in, noticing Kong was in the vicinity. No doubt Flash would learn from Liz anyway, he guessed.
"Mr Palmer wants me to tutor Liz. Me, tutoring Liz," he emphasized as Gwen winced. Harry, who had twisted around to face Pete and Gwen, chuckled upon hearing Peter's misfortune.
"Flash won't be too happy about that," Harry grinned, "You better start training for a re-match, Pete!"
"No, I'm sure it won't be that bad," Gwen said in an attempt to reassure Pete, patting him on the arm, "All you have to do is teach her biology – it might not even be for that long!"
"Yeah, I'm counting on it," Peter tutted as the class began.
Classes went by and lunch break came, with Peter, Gwen and Harry sat outside at their bench, the same one they had claimed ever since they started Midtown. Gwen, her blonde hair flowing down, was wrapped in a pink zip-up hoodie, sat at Peter's side, while Harry, wearing a jumper atop a collared shirt, sat on the other side, occasional gusts of winds blowing his hair out of place. The sun was out but the September air was cool as they hung out, talking about whatever they felt like, though the main topic today was Peter's upcoming tutoring job.
"I mean, like Gwen said, it might not be all bad – you've already asserted your strength, and with a bit of the ol' Parker charm, you might win her over!" Harry joked as he ran his hand back through his fluffy brown hair.
"Yeah, not likely," Peter shook his head, "Liz Allen, head of the cheerleading squad, hooking up with Peter Parker?"
"More likely than you think –" Harry said suddenly, pointing over behind them towards the football pitch, "Looks like the happy couple are in a rough patch!"
Turning around, trying to look subtle, Peter saw Liz and Flash seemingly engaged in an argument, Flash waving his arms around while Liz kept her cool, though from here it was easy to tell she wasn't happy.
"What a shocker," Gwen said monotonously, shuffling in her seat.
"You don't think it's about the fight, do you?" Peter asked nervously, "I mean, if they break up because of it, then Flash finds out I'm hanging out with Liz, I could really be in for it!"
"Come on, Pete," Harry said disapprovingly, "You've already beat up Flash once, what's to say you can't do it again?"
"Because he'll get expelled?" Gwen replied as if Harry was stupid, "He and Flash together. I mean, I don't want to give the guy too much credit, but surely he must realise the consequences if he troubles you again?"
"Let's hope so," Peter glanced back over his shoulder and as he did he saw Flash and Liz's argument reach its climax, with Liz storming off, her friends waiting for her. "Well, would you look at that?" Peter said, drawing his friends' attention over to the scene behind him. Flash stared after her, shaking his head before playing with the football in his hands, slowly walking over to Kong, Jason and the others.
"Well, well, well," Harry grinned.
"Wonder how long it'll take for them to get back together," Gwen said interestedly as she watched Liz strut off the pitch with two other members of the cheerleading squad.
Soon, the news became official, through one form or another – Flash Thompson and Liz Allen had broken up. No one knew why, exactly; this lead to speculation, some suggesting that one had cheated on the other, as was usually the case – or, the most popular theory by far, that Liz was embarrassed of Flash after his defeat at the hands of Peter Parker.
Though Peter was unsure himself, his mind leant towards the latter being the most likely. On the bus ride home, neither Flash nor his cronies made any attempt at him, though he could sense Flash's anger towards him. Peter shuffled as he sensed Flash, muscles tensed as he clenched the back of the empty seat in front of him. Pete let out a sigh of relief when Flash, Jason and Kong finally walked off the bus, leaving him in peace.
Dinner that night was quiet, as it had been the previous nights. Peter cleared his throat before asking Ben a favour.
"Uncle Ben, could you drop me off at the library tomorrow?" Peter asked, swallowing a mouthful of pasta, "I've got some homework and, you know, I'd prefer to do it somewhere quiet."
"Yeah, sure," Ben accepted as he twirled spaghetti around his fork, "What time do you want picking up?"
"Oh, I'm gonna be there pretty late," Peter said, trying to remember the time he'd be on, "How about 10?"
"At night?" Ben said, lowering the fork from his mouth, surprised, "Christ, how much homework are they giving ya?"
"Well, it's senior year, I guess, and I've got some studying to do," Peter said convincingly as he played with his food.
"Alright, Pete," Ben said, "If you think it'll do you good."
"Thanks, Ben."
Upstairs, Peter emptied out his rucksack and packed it with necessary content. First, he grabbed the outfit he'd chosen especially for the wrestling match – a red sweatshirt and some red joggers, with two blue stripes running down the side of each leg. Hey, he was no fashion designer, but it'd do – after all, the advertisement asked for colourful characters. All Peter needed to complete the outfit was a mask, and he'd already found a place in the city he could go to.
Next, Peter threw in a few textbooks and notes – he wasn't completely lying about wanting to study, he needed to get his notes sorted if he was tutoring Liz. Peter already planned out the plan of action tomorrow – as soon as Ben dropped him off at the library for around three o'clock, he'd head in for an hour or so and work for a bit, but after that, it was training time.
The next day came, and Pete sat quietly in the passenger seat as Ben drove him, slowing down before parking outside the library.
"Thanks, Uncle Ben, I'll see you later," Pete said, picking up his backpack and going to open the car door before Ben interrupted him.
"Peter, hold on a sec," Ben cleared his throat, turning slightly in his seat to face him. "I think we need to clear the air; the last few days, things haven't been right between us."
Peter shuffled back around, facing Ben. "Uh, yeah, I guess so..."
"I know you feel like you were treated unfairly after the fight," Ben spoke gently, "I know the way Flash treated you wasn't right. You're a teenager, you're emotional, and you probably thought to humiliate him like that was the right thing to do."
"I was just defending myself -" Peter spoke up before Ben waved his hand to hush him.
"I know, I know – I can see you're perfectly capable of standing up to Flash," Ben reassured him, attempting to calm Peter, "But when you have strength, Peter, you can't let it go to your head. It's up to you to choose your actions carefully and do the right thing. It's a belief your father, God rest his soul, held very dear to him; that with great power, there comes great responsibility. I only ask that you keep that in mind."
"Well, where is he?" Peter asked bluntly. The question seemed to shock Ben, and it even shocked Peter himself.
"What?" Ben asked, as if he couldn't believe what his nephew said.
"My father. What happened to him? He didn't want to stick around to tell me this himself?"
"How dare you!" Ben raised his voice, "Your father was a good man! I know you were old enough when your mother and father left you to remember them, Peter, I know it must have been difficult – and I know that your aunt and I worked our hardest to raise you as well as we could, while we were never your parents -"
"Then stop pretending to be!" Peter interrupted, tears forming in his eyes. Ben looked at him, his face dropping, looking almost on the verge of tears himself. There were a few seconds of silence between them, Peter unable to muster the courage to look at his uncle, staring out the window as he felt his throat close up.
"I'll pick you up at ten," Ben said quietly, placing both his hands on the wheel. Peter, not acknowledging this at all, opened the passenger side door, stepping out and shutting it behind him, walking in front of the car and up the steps to the library.
He knew Ben was watching him before he heard the car's engine roar as it pulled out of the parking spot and sped away. Walking into the library, he found a quiet spot, isolated from everyone, and buried his head in his hands for a few moments. The last few days had been a nightmare, but this was too much. Yes, Peter had always wondered what happened exactly to his parents, but never before had he taken it out on Ben like that. It was unfair, and Peter knew it. As soon as he met him outside the library, he'd apologise.
With the argument resting in the back of his mind, Peter organized and prepared his notes, ready for whenever Liz planned on meeting him. She never actually texted him that night, but Peter assumed that whatever happened between her and Flash took priority in her conversations with the other cheerleading chicks. Maybe, if he hadn't heard from her by the time he got home tonight, he could bring himself to text her.
As soon as Peter felt happy with the progress he'd made with his work, having studied his notes for a while, he re-packed his bag and walked out. First on the agenda was to buy a mask for the upcoming fight, and Peter had settled on a balaclava, preferably in red to match the rest of the outfit. He knew there was a shop selling sports gear nearby which had them in stock for skiing.
After walking a couple of blocks, he found it, heading inside and navigating the store before finding their small skiing section, consisting of a handful of balaclavas, gloves and thick jackets. Arriving just in time, Peter found that there was only one red balaclava left, quickly nabbing it. Worried that it would seem suspicious if he only bought a balaclava – worried that it'd make him look like he was planning a robbery – Pete picked up a pair of red woolly gloves as well, though he didn't plan on wearing them. Joining the queue at the counter, he handed over some cash before walking out, stuffing the items in his backpack.
Up on a quiet rooftop, Peter shoved his textbooks aside, pulling out the pair of joggers and the sweatshirt. Discretely, he slowly redressed, taking off his jeans and replacing them with the red joggers, then removing his button-up shirt and pulling his sweatshirt over his head. Following this, he equipped the red balaclava and checked himself out by flipping his phone's camera. He looked a little silly, but it'd do in terms of concealing his identity. He clumsily threw the books and his other set of clothes back in his bag, zipping it shut and leaving it on the roof as he hyped himself up.
Peter trained for hours, careful not to wear himself out before the fight. In hindsight, it may have been better if he did this earlier.
Better late than never, Peter thought to himself.
The sun began to set and Peter was still on the rooftop. He wasn't sure how useful this training session would prove to be, but he was about to find out. Climbing down the wall of the building and dropping into the alley, he jogged to the wrestling arena, arriving before most of the audience. A bodyguard stood outside the door.
"Uh, I'll be competing today," Peter's voice cracked. The guard looked at him with his eyebrow raised.
"Confirmation?" he asked sceptically, his voice deep and gravelly. Peter nodded and pulled out his phone, showing the e-mail he had received upon signing up. The guard chuckled to himself before motioning to go on through. "Good luck, kid."
Peter was shown to backstage, passing displays of posters and framed photographs on the way. One poster in the backstage area read "BATTLIN' JACK MURDOCK vs CARL CREEL". Peter sighed as he felt like his wrestling name was kind of weak in comparison.
Soon, dozens of other wrestlers began turning up, considerably more muscular and masculine than he, who stood awkwardly in his sweatshirt-joggers combo compared to the other, more professional outfits worn by other competitors. The arena would fill up, too, as heavy music began blaring while the crowd filled the seats. Peter wasn't first on the bill, there'd be a few wrestlers on before him, giving him a chance to get a feel for how these things worked – he'd never seen a wrestling match before.
Peter watched in awe as Bonesaw took the stage, surrounded by scantily-clad women, before the first wrestler took the stage. Awe turned to horror as Bonesaw made the first competitor his plaything, absolutely demolishing this poor man, who was carried off in a stretcher. Peter felt the fear growing in his chest as, one by one, wrestlers fell at the hands of Bonesaw, skin red, drenched in sweat. The crowd roared with each of his victories, his biggest fans holding fan-made signs, waving them in the audience.
A tap on the shoulder – Pete turned his head to see a young lady, who had been taking the other wrestlers out. "You're up, little guy – follow me."
Pete felt more and more nervous as he followed this lady, walked down corridors before finally reaching the spot where he'd make his entrance, where he was concealed from the crowd by a curtain. Here, he met the presenter, clad in shades, a sparkling yellow jackets with black trousers and boots.
"What's your name, kid?" he spat, not even looking at Peter.
"W-what, like, my wrestling name, or...?"
"Of course I mean your wrestling name," the presenter turned around, his eyebrows furrowed, "Come on, spit it out already."
"The Human Spider," Peter replied, puffing his chest and trying to sound confident.
"The Human Spider? Are you kidding me?" the presenter laughed, "No, no, we gotta do better than that."
"What's wrong with the Human Spider?" Peter asked as he stepped to the over side of the curtain, raising the microphone to his mouth.
"Ladies and gentleman," he announced, the crowd hushing slightly, "Are you ready for the next competitor?!"
A resounding cheer echoed throughout the arena as the presenter smiled, nodding his head.
"Starring in his first wrestling match – seems a little too brave, if you ask me – and up against the menacing Bonesaw, we have the one, the only, the spectacular SPIDER-MAN!"
The curtain raised and Peter was blinded momentarily by the lights of the arena. As he walked out, fans in the surrounding seats booed him, throwing popcorn and empty drink cans at him. The same women who Bonesaw came out with were waiting for him, though they had nothing positive to say.
"You ain't surviving this, kid," a blonde, curly haired women taunted him, Peter trying not to look at them.
"Hope mommy and daddy have planned your funeral!" shouted a fan from the crowd as they emptied a bucket of popcorn over his head. Shaking, Peter made his way inside the ring, ducking under the rope as he climbed in. Bonesaw, sat in a chair in the opposite corner, had his team around him, prepping him for the fight. He noticed his opponent smirk as he laid his eyes on him.
A noise blared throughout the stadium, and Bonesaw's crew quickly fled the ring as he stood up. Peter noticed a noise above him and, looking up, he saw what looked like a cage being lowered, folding shut and isolating the ring from the rest of the stadium.
"Hey, what the hell is this?" Peter shouted at a crew member who secured the lock, though they simply ignored him.
"Don't be scared, little boy," Bonesaw mocked him, shouting from the other side of the ring. "I'll make these three minutes nice and quick!"
"Bonesaw VS Spider-Man," the announcer spoke over the stadium's P.A., "Your time... starts... NOW!"
Another noise sounded out and a timer began ticking down from 3:00. Looking ahead, Peter saw Bonesaw, a hunk of muscle, charging at him, around stretched out, ready to pick him up. His senses triggered, blaring like a siren in his head as Peter leaped high in the air, grabbing the bars of the cage for dear life as Bonesaw's head banged into them, rattling the bars.
"Nice try, tough guy," Peter called down, "Hey, you want to be careful – you look like you've already had enough brain damage!"
"How'd you get up there?" Bonesaw hollered as the crowd cheered, "Get down here, freak!"
"You asked for it!" Peter leaped off the bars, landing directly behind Bonesaw who twisted around, elbowing Peter in the collarbone.
"You're gonna have to try harder than that!" Bonesaw chuckled as Peter staggered back. As Bonesaw charged again, Peter ducked out the way, sticking his leg out and sending Bonesaw flying flat on his stomach. Bonesaw groaned as he pushed himself back up before angrily grabbing the chair he was sat in. As Peter went to throw a punch at Bonesaw, he swung around, smashing the folding chair into his chest and sending him tumbling into the bars to the side.
Peters senses triggered again; Bonesaw had raised the chair above his head, and was about to swing it down upon his head. The crowd was going wild, everyone captivated by the performance in front of them as Peter sidestepped out the way, the chair clanging against the metal bars. Bonesaw roared as he swung the chair around again, though Peter stepped back out of its way.
Having failed to land hits on his opponent several times, Bonesaw grew angrier and angrier, eventually throwing the chair aside before stomping towards Peter, arms out, ready to pick up his opponent and toss him across the ring. Sensing this, Pete grabbed both of Bonesaw's wrists, stopping him in his tracks. In an attempt to break free, Bonesaw swung his leg back, ready to kick Peter away, unaware that Peter knew exactly what he was doing and, in response, he let go of one hand and grabbed Bonesaw's leg, leaving him hopping on the spot. Kicking the back of Bonesaw's only grounded foot, Bonesaw fell hard on his back as the crowd cheered. The time on the clock read 2:00 exactly. Peter could end this right now if he wanted to.
As Bonesaw staggered up to his feet, Peter walked around him, fists raised. Bonesaw was bewildered and had his guard down, and Peter saw his opportunity. Quickly stepping behind Bonesaw, Peter grabbed his leg with one hand and opposing side of his chest with the other, lifting Bonesaw up above his head with some struggle. The crowd chanted as he held Bonesaw up for a few seconds before tossing him as hard as he could at the ropes surrounding the edge of the ring, Bonesaw twisting and turning through the air, landing against the ropes upside down and banging his head on the floor, knocking him out for good.
The crowd cheered as the cage doors quickly opened, with the referee diving in and checking Bonesaw before running up to Peter.
"That's it, kid, you did it!" he grabbed Peter's hand, holding it up in the air as music began blaring out of the speakers.
"And, we have a winner!" the presenter hollered over the mic, "You saw him here first, folks – say hello to Spider-Man!"
Peter's eyes glistened and a smile spread from cheek to cheek as the referee waved his fist in the air, the chants of "Spi-der Man! Spi-der Man!" growing louder and louder.
Peter was lead off the stage before being walked up to an office deep inside the stadium. An assistant knocked on the door before opening it, motioning for Peter to go through. Inside, there was who seemed to be the event's organizer, Joe Walker.
"I'm here for the cash prize," Peter said cheerfully as he composed himself. Joe quietly put down his cigar before shuffling through bands of cash, sliding a seemingly small amount across his desk. Peter picked it up and counted through it – it was only $1000.
"Hey, I think you've made a mistake," Peter nervously asked, "The ad said I'd win $3000-"
"Yeah. For three minutes." Joe interrupted, returning to his cigar, "And you beat him in one. So you get $1000."
Peter did a double take, "Hey, now that's not fair-"
"Well, it's that or nothin', kid," Joe spoke over him as if he wanted him gone already, hovering his hand over the $1000 Peter put back on the desk, "You beat him in one minute – that ain't my problem". Reluctantly, Peter picked up the wad of cash, sighing as he walked out the door, brushing past another man.
What an asshole, Peter thought to himself, I mean, I went all out there, put on a great show for the crowd, and the guy won't even pay me what he promised.
A bang echoed down the hall, and Peter turned to see the door to the office slammed shut, the man he walked past as he left now running down the hall, carrying a bag with him. Peter watched, making eye contact with the man as he walked past while he heard Joe calling for security as he feebly chased him.
"Hey! Stop that guy!" Joe shouted at Peter, but it was too late. The robber had reached the elevator, and the doors were closing.
"Thanks, kid," the robber grinned snidely as the doors shut to. Joe banged his fist against the door, realising it was too late as the sound of the elevator faded, heading to ground level. The organizer soon diverted his frustration towards Peter.
"What the hell is wrong with you, kid?" Joe shouted, pushing him against the wall, "After the display you put on inside that ring, you could have ripped that guy to shreds!"
"It ain't my problem," Peter grunted at the man, giving him a taste of his own medicine. Joe chuckled, baffled and angry as he walked back to his office, pulling his mobile phone out to call security.
Peter made his way down the building, taking the next elevator. He found a public restroom where he opened up his backpack and changed into his normal clothes, hiding away the $1000. Walking down the dark city streets, he found his way back to the library where he was going to wait for Ben, only to see that there was a crowd there. Curious, Peter walked over before he spotted a policeman trying to usher everyone away.
"Please, if you could move along," the officer asserted, "We need to clear the crime scene, now go!"
A crime scene? Peter thought, It can't be Ben, can it...?
Wanting to put this awful thought at rest, he rushed over to the crowd, pushing his way to the front, trying to see who was lying on the ground. As a female officer tried to guide him away, he saw the victim's face – that of uncle Ben's, his eyes full of tears, a bloody patch on the front of his shirt.
"My uncle! THAT'S MY UNCLE! UNCLE BEN!" Peter shouted as he pushed past the officer, collapsing to his knees beside Ben's head, holding his hands.
"Ben? Uncle Ben?" Peter said, tears running down his face, "It's me, it's Peter!"
Ben's eyes found their way over to him, and, upon seeing his nephew, his adopted child, started crying.
"Peter," Ben said weakly, hardly able to talk.
"Ben, I'm sorry," Peter said, not wanting his last conversation with his uncle to be one of anger and hatred, "I'm so sorry, Ben, please forgive me..."
"Peter," Ben said again, softer this time, as if his voice was fading away. That second, Peter felt his uncle's hand go limp in his own as he let out one last, deep breath.
"Uncle Ben," Peter said, his voice and body shaking and trembling, "Uncle Ben, please, please don't..."
The police took him back to his house that night, where two officers took May away to inform her of Ben's murder while a female officer stayed with Peter in the kitchen, attempting to sooth him. Peter's crying worsened when he heard May let out a loud cry in the living room, after hearing the inevitable, and moments later she rushed into the kitchen. Peter stood up out of his seat and the two held each other in a tight embrace, sobbing into each other's shoulders.
"What are we going to do, May?" Peter cried, "What will we do without him?"
The officers gently lead the two into the living room, where they could talk about the case. They were unsure who it was exactly who shot Ben, but with the help of security footage from the surrounding buildings, they should be able to identify the man and hopefully find where he was headed after stealing Ben's car.
Time passed, and eventually the officers were forced to leave to resume their duties. Peter, still sobbing, collapsed on the sofa, unable to fully bring himself to acknowledge his uncle was gone, while May solemnly walked up to her empty bedroom where, for the first time in decades, she would sleep without her partner.
Inside Peter, a deep anger boiled. With his new strength, he could make the killer pay for what they did to his uncle; pay for taking one of his only family away from him. Spider-Man was a wrestler no more. Now, he is a hunter.