Chapter 6

Just want to say thank you to all of you who do read this fanfic. When I wrote this, we were the 6th most favourited fanfiction that was updated within 24 hours. So… I will admit that is a little specific, but I still wear that badge with pride.

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The room was dimly lit, as a man sat alone in the room. Tombstone the albino crime lord, or rather Lonnie Lincoln as he had gone so many years ago sat alone in his casino personal office. Tombstone rubbed his chin with his large coarse fingers. He had been in thought a lot recently, his hubris got the better of him. He thought that sending Kingpin's gang a message to not sell on his turf would merely make them think twice. No cause of course that wouldn't make sense. Instead of just accepting that he should stick to his own territory he sends his top killers to stalk him from rooftops. Tombstone looked out of the tinted windows of his casino. He couldn't see the Prowler, but he knew he was out there.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much Tombstone could do. The Prowler would kill anyone sent after him. He was too fast, too mobile and too lethal. Trying to prevent Prowler from monitoring them was simply impossible, the best Tombstone could do was keep the Prowler distracted from his more important projects. Regardless it was a pain that Tombstone didn't want nor need. Clearly sending fingers wasn't enough. He needed a clearer message, something that even Kingpin could misinterpret.

That is why he invited William Baker to join him in his office. William was a man, who when escaping from prison jumped the wrong fence and got caught at a bomb testing site. When an experimental bomb went off, he had fused with the sand beneath him to become the Sandman. His Sandman. A man who could become sand and if given access to more sand could become even stronger.

Admittedly crime had experienced a recent change in the few years. Back in the day, Tombstone was a name to be respected, he was revered, feared. Then suddenly, new gangs started showing up, ninjas, mutants and all kinds of psychopaths with some stupid gimmick. It only took a few years for the older powerful gangs to be become annexed. Tombstone remembered the destruction of the golden age. It was subtle at first. Some new gangs started popping up, it wasn't a big deal new gangs raised and fell like the tide. The only difference was that these new gangs had some sort of moron that could throw fire with their hands. It didn't take long before an arms race of superpowers began. Suddenly crime lords that held power for decades wound up dead in gruesome and impossible ways. The Red Snake gang was a powerful gang in New York. One of the top three. That was until the leader of the gang had been found dead in his bedroom with his skin inside out.

After that Tombstone, himself had sought superpowers discovering a chemical compound that made him virtually invulnerable. Unfortunately, not dying while helpful didn't do much in the way of gang warfare while others could throw cars with their mind or possess technology that could turn stone to dust. His once-powerful stranglehold on New York loosened for new gangs or gangs that adapted quickly with the recent appearance of superhumans to sneak into his turf and steal his territory.

Kingpin was one of those old-fashioned gangs which adapted to the superpower arms race. Kingpin's son was one of those geniuses that could create advanced weaponry. Then the prowler appeared, an athletic man with not only the skills but the technology to kill as he pleased. Finally, the nail in the coffin secured Kingpin's position in New York crime. Spider-Man, an unknown individual that tore through highly trained guards like they weren't even there. If Prowler was Kingpin's knife that sliced the neck of anyone that got too close, then Spider-Man would be the sledgehammer that tore through any defence.

Such power caused Kingpin to become arrogant. He had begun his conquest into his territory which was a slap in the face. Did he really expect such disrespect to go unanswered? Admittedly he had allowed it to go unanswered for the same reason Prowler still stalked him. He just couldn't do anything to stop it. That is until he found his answer. His answer was a large green striped shirt-wearing American man.

"William I'm glad you could join me." Tombstone smiled, his white teeth showing much like his pale white skin.

"What do you want you, pale bastard." Sandman seemed to not be as enthusiastic as Tombstone. It honestly kind of hurt his feeling his smile is replaced with a frown.

"That's what I like about you Will, you say what's on your mind, you cut to the point even if it is in a rather crude manner. That's why I like you. That's why I continue to fund you and your daughter. I'd hate for there to be a reason for me not to like you." Sandman grit his teeth together, the pressure causing the surface of his teeth to become sand. His criminal history had made it difficult to find legal work and providing a child without a mother with a good home and a good education wasn't cheap. Sandman forgot how everything snowballed into becoming Tombstone's number one enforcer but all he knew is at one point he was robbing a bank and the next he was suffocating rival gang members under mountains of sand.

"My apologies boss. I forget myself."

"Oh, it's okay Will, all of us make mistakes." His frown was once again replaced with that damned smile. That fake smile Sandman hated with a passion. "You see it's not a matter of what I want, it's a matter of what you want." Tombstone smirked. What Sandman wanted was to provide his daughter with a life he could never live. Tombstone probably mistook that as Sandman wanting what he wanted, as it was his money that Sandman needed.

"And what do I want boss?"

"What you want is Kingpin dead."

"So, I should kill Kingpin?

Tombstone out a deep laugh as If it was the funniest thing in the world. "No of course not. I don't think even you could accomplish that; you'd need a desert to cover that whale with enough sand to kill him. No, you see Kingpin may be the head of the Kingpin gang, but I don't want it dead. Why eliminate a gang just for the empty space to cause a new gang to rise and take its place? No, I simply want to shatter Kingpin's spirit to get back my turf and get that fat egotistical dick to piss off." Sandman just glared at Tombstone; all he had done is gone on this long monologue but not actually told him what he was supposed to do.

"I want you to kill Peter Fisk, his son. Peter is the creator of both Prowler and Spider-Man's suits. If we kill him not only would Spider-Man and Prowler lose their access to their engineer but also killing Kingpin's son maybe will finally get it through his thick skull to fuck off."

"I'm not killing a kid."

"This 'kid' is the son of a crime lord, and he is the one who provides Spider-Man and Prowler with their advanced suits. Any blood on their hands is also on his. This 'kid' is not innocent."

"He could be a goddamn drug dealer for all I care, I'm not killing someone's child!" Sandman rose his voice. Probably a bad idea but he was a father himself. Tombstone was an idiot if he thought killing Kingpin's son would break his spirit. No, the only thing broken would be Tombstone's neck, the wrath of a father should not be underestimated.

"Whose life do you prefer, a guilty prince of crime or your young daughter?" Tombstone asked. Shit, the albino crime lord had him by his balls.

"This won't work out the way you imagine this too," Sandman warned.

"William, get the fuck out of my office."

Peter was drained. Not physically, of course, he could run a marathon as a casual run. His mental endurance was a different story though. Peter had learnt almost everything in the sciences as he was tutored by Norman Osborn, so school was just sitting in a classroom for six hours writing stuff he already knew. Not to mention Harry was extra annoyed today after PE and being used as Flash's personal punching bag.

"I hate math!" MJ complained flopping onto the couch next to him. Oh, Peter forgot he still had her with him. He didn't mind her company and she was probably the closest female friend he had, which was a little depressing, but he had doubled his number of friends from one to two, so you know. He was doing better socially at least. MJ had given him a side look. "Hey, tiger. Want to help me with math homework?"

Peter scoffed, "Yeah right. I know what you mean by 'help'." Peter air quoted. 'Also, tiger?"

"What don't you like it? Tiger." She put more emphasis on the word.

"Eh, I prefer spiders."

"Too bad Tiger, you're just going to have to suck it up."

"Well too bad MJ, guess you're just going to have to do your homework yourself."

"I can make it worth your while. I saw there was a washing machine that I could get accidentally stuck in." MJ winked at Peter who gagged at the thought.

"I'd rather stick my dick into a blender." Peter countered, he smirked when he saw MJ's face of disgust.

"Ew, ew, ew I can't stop seeing that in my head, I need bleach for my brain."

"Don't feel embarrassed, lots of girls can't get me naked out of their heads." It was MJ's turn to scoff now. Peter was many things, lazy, socially inept, possibly narcoleptic., but he was never popular with the opposite sex.

"Please, it's no wonder that only a blender would want you. You always look exhausted; your hair is a mess and your clothes? Don't even get me started on your clothes. Maybe if you put some effort into your appearance then you might get some attention from the girls." Okay admittedly it wasn't MJ's best compliment in the world, but she couldn't say that Peter was somewhat attractive to her, stupid Peter and his stupid abs and that stupid shower.

"Big words from a girl who wears enough makeup for the whole cheerleading squad." MJ's cheeks flushed. Stupid Peter.

"It's called looking presentable, something you wouldn't know about, would you?" MJ argued. Peter knew how to look presentable; his dad would never let him go out to meet other gang members without looking impeccable. It's just he couldn't care less what his classmates think of him.

"I can look good." Peter pouted turning away from MJ feigning a look of hurt resentment. "I let you into my house and this is how you treat me. I feel so used and abused." MJ flinched when those words left Peter's mouth. Good, she should feel guilty for her cruel words.

"I'm just saying the if you got rid of the drug dealer clothes you would," How should she phrase it so Peter wouldn't know that she cuddles his pillow at night. "-look better." Perfect, nice work MJ. She gave herself a mental self-five. "Speaking of what are you going to wear to Liz's?"

Peter gave her a questioning look, to his credit he did give himself a moment to think about it before he gestured to himself. "You can't be serious; you're not wearing that." She looked mortified.

"Why not?"

"Because I begged Liz for you to come, if you look bad it makes me look bad if you look bad."

"Well, jeez, thanks for the kind words. Remind me, why weren't we friends before?"

"Probably cause you look like that." Peter frowned at his words. He wasn't that bad, was he? "Don't worry though, I'll turn you from not too hot. The first rule is no hoodie. Hoodies may look nice casually, but this is a party, you're wearing something slightly tight." MJ tried picturing peter in her head in several different outfits. Peter wasn't noticeably tall, but he had lots of lean muscles. The kind of gymnast and swimmers which was much more appealing than the gross extreme that bodybuilders often aimed for. Anything that pushed against his chest would look good to MJ.

"Excuse me?" Peter subconsciously covered his body. He definitely knows MJ was picturing in all kinds of clothes and felt really self-conscious. Leave his body alone cruel witch.

"Tight shirt, and wear red. Red draws attention." MJ explained much to Peter's displeasure.

"Why do I want attention. I thought the plan is to fade into the background." Peter didn't even want to go to this dumb party. He was only doing this for Harry and now apparently MJ.

"Cause if this goes well you won't be the lame loser everyone thinks you are."

"Okay, ouch. Hurtful."

"Then people like Flash will leave you alone." Peter actually didn't mind Flash, he kept him on his toes and made school somewhat interesting. Flash leaving him alone would mean that he would be mind numbly bored for school all the time. The thought worried him more than the thought of Flash bullying him. Flash stuffing him in a locker gave him a reason to skip class. What were the teachers meant to do? Punish a kid for being bullied. He had the perfect excuse to skip class, why ruin that?

"Eh, I don't mind." MJ pouted at Peter which he didn't understand why. Why does she care that he looks good in front of all the 'cool' kids?

"I'm going to my room to pick out your outfit, I swear to God Tiger if you don't wear it, I will smother you with a pillow while you sleep." MJ stood up from the couch leaving 'her' room. Weird cause last time Peter checked that was his room. It was smart of him to move his Spider-Man suit out of his secret lab in his closet, he had a feeling that MJ wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon.

Peter and MJ went through their usual routine through the afternoon, it was a process they had started to adopt over time. Peter and MJ would spend time watching TV, Peter would do some homework while MJ would procrastinate and then they would order takeaway and eat dinner before MJ would retire to his room and Peter would sleep on the couch. Peter could have slept in his father's bed while he was busy preparing for Tombstone, but the couch was fine. It had been so long since his dad has come home. He had been staying at his office or jumping from meeting to meetings staying in five-star apartments. Regardless this had been more or less his routine.

His routine was working out fine but tonight he has woken up abruptly from his slumber by the sound of glass tapping. Sitting on the table next to his phone was vibrating against a glass table causing a constant tapping which was super annoying personally. Who was calling him at- Peter picked up his phone. Who was calling him at two AM?

Peter tried to look closer, but his vision was blurred from being rudely awoken in the middle of the night. After a few seconds of letting his vision focus through the blue light. There was a notification on the screen, it was no big deal it was just a notification saying the numerous sensors he's installed outside the doors and vents saying that someone was trying to break in. Okay, maybe it was a minor big deal. At worst it was a few armed grunts with weapons which was just a Saturday afternoon for him. Peter got off the couch hearing his bones crack and pop. It was far too early in the morning to deal with an assassination. Maybe he should make a sandwich after this?

Peter stretched his arms out feeling his muscles stretch. On the off chance that he wasn't capable of breaking the bones of every intruder in five seconds, he should probably hide. Peter was many things but even he couldn't survive fifty bullets hitting his chest from two metres away. Thankfully he was rich, and everyone knows the sign that you're rich is stupid looking lightning in the form of chandeliers. Jumping up on the roof he landed upside down. His dad hated it when he did that, cleaning dirty footprints of the ceiling wasn't exactly easy.

Walking along with the ceiling proudly defying Newton and gravity Peter was able to hide in the chandelier that was obnoxiously fancy. When Peter was young and recently adopted, he always wanted to swing from it like a Tarzan on a vine. This stupid thing should be able to hide him from anyone sneaking into his house. They'll probably take one quick glance to look at the chandelier then ignore it, most likely they'll just go straight to his room and kill him… MJ, fuck. Now was not the best time for a sleepover.

Peter whipped out his phone to observe which sensor went off. Surprising it was the one he least expected which was the vent. A vent was small and cramped so whoever was travelling through it couldn't be someone large and overly muscular. If anything, someone small and lithe was worse for Peter as he could handle someone strong, people who were more agile with good weaponry was more of an issue.

Peter waited in the dark turning off his phone as to not give away his position from the assassin. It only took almost a minute for Peter to hear the sound of something small but numerous in numbers colliding against the metal over and over again before a dull thud was heard in the living room. Peter had many powers but seeing in the dark wasn't one of them but by the sound of the footsteps, there was only one person which worked in Peter's favour. What was unsettling was that sound echoing through the vents. It wasn't human. Peter could beat any man, but there wasn't much he could do if suddenly the Norse God of thunder decided he wanted to turn Peter into crispy bacon.

Peter heard the intruder walk around aimlessly, what were they doing? The person kept bumping into tables and chairs till they eventually hit the wall travelling against it till whoever it was reached what was they were looking for. It took a second to realise what the person was looking for, but he immediately shut his eyes when he heard a click.

William wasn't sure what he should be expecting when he went to kill Peter Fisk, all he really knew was he was wilfully unprepared for it. I mean being a basically immortal sand person he often didn't need to prepare for anything. His clothes were even sand which was a weird concept to wrap his head around, he didn't know how it worked but it did and that was all that mattered. Although maybe he should have got some night vision goggles. When he did find the light switch, he was greeted by the sight of his target on top of the chandelier. He was so young.

"Hey." William greeted.

"Hi? Nice to meet you." Peter greeted. The man was fairly large, too large to easily move through a vent. Peter didn't recognise the man in the green striped shirt, that was probably good for Peter as anyone he took the time to recognise by site was usually mass murders. The lack of weapons on the intruder was disturbing though, the only reason not to bring weapons to assassination was if he didn't need them.

"Why are you on the chandelier?"

"Why are you not on the chandelier?" Peter quickly countered refusing to move from his position.

"Can you get down?"

"Why? So, you can murder me?"

"You being up there can't stop me."

"And yet here I am, on the chandelier and not dead. Got to say your theory is already full of holes." Peter saw his eye twitch; he was clearly not happy being here nor dealing with Peter.

"I don't want to hurt you, I'm sorry. I truly am and I promise I'll make this as painless as possible. Never of us want this just make it easier for the both of us." Peter scowled at the intruder. He hated people like that, Peter himself also hated murder.

His father thankfully never put Spider-Man on assassination missions. Peter was a gang member though and death was unavoidable. Peter struggled to control his emotions during his first Spider-man job and all it takes is one quick second of adrenaline to shatter ribs with one punch. Peter had killed eight people directly throughout his two years of being Spider-Man. It was never intentional, he never thought 'hey I'm going to kill this person', Peter just sometimes hit too hard, or threw a pool table that landed on someone badly. People without superpowers were just so fragile and all it takes was some poor circumstances for a person to die.

That was why he was so pissed off when the bastard in green strips was acting like he was the victim in the situation. Peter knew how awful it was to feel a body go coldly limp in your hands. But to pretend to murder someone was some sort of burden that you had to suffer was a joke. People cried when they died, they begged, and while Peter didn't regret the lives, he took in self-defence he did beg alongside them to live. Sometimes death was unavoidable, when bullets go everywhere it's killed or be killed. In a lot of combat situations where the opponent forces your hand the only option is to kill. But to pretend that the murderer wasn't the victim was pathetic, as a killer himself the best thing he could do is live, move on and do better. His father always said that it was their choice to fire bullets at him, to live in this line of work, therefore like Peter they must be ready to pay the price and death was just a part of the business.

Peter hopped down from the chandelier looking slightly pissed. "Well don't worry, you won't be hurting me." Peter gave the other person a small smirk. Whoever the assassin was let out a tired sigh, before approaching Peter.

"Sorry kid. It's just but I've got my own kid to protect." What next happened quickly, too quickly for even Sandman to fully register. William was confident in his abilities; he had never met someone capable of killing him or if it even was. So he simply reached out a hand to grab Peter by his neck who was a kid young enough to be his own child. But Peter wasn't a regular child, even without his powers he was taught to fight by Prowler who had almost reached the peak of normal human physical limits being able to compete with top-level athletes. Peter leapt forward like a snake grasping Sandman's wrist, with a quick pirouette ducking beneath Sandman's guard Peter was slightly behind Sandman forcing his arm straight with the hand holding his wrist while he brought his other hand with an open palm towards the elbow of Sandman's straightened arm.

Peter felt his palm connect with William's elbow but what he expected was to hear a sickening snap, was a dull thud as his hand cleaved through sand. What? Peter stood there shocked looking down at the now unattached arm in his hand that was leaking sand instead of blood. Sandman himself look unbothered and slightly surprised by Peter's combat skills. Peter's spider senses flared causing Peter to bring his arms instinctively up as William spun bringing his still attached arm which turned into a battering ram of sand as he turned and delivered Peter a powerful blow sending him skidding across the floor.

"Okay, what the hell," Peter mumbled to himself. Sandman's other arm had turned fully to sand and returned to Sandman like a snake made of sand travelling through the air.

"I'll give you one more chance, surrender peacefully."

"Oh, geez really? You're so considerate, killing me if I surrender peacefully, you're truly too kind. I would hate the alternative of me not surrendering and dying." Peter sarcastically responded to Sandman's 'amazing' proposition.

Peter stood up dusting the sand off his arms. His arms felt a bit sluggish after being hit by a tidal wave of sand, he missed his spider suit with its added protection. Speaking of spider-powers Peter was going to be forced to keep to his normal human limits, if this Sandman really couldn't die him figuring out his secret identity would be the worst outcome. Aside from dying of course.

"That all you got?" Sandman narrowed his eyes at Peter's question. Peter didn't mind through something about people trying to kill him not liking him didn't really bother him. William charged forward at Peter again, but this time was more prepared for Peter this time not underestimating him. He had turned his right arm into a mace of sand while the other a hammer which Peter scoffed at. Peter assumed Sandman wasn't used to any fights above street level or at least hasn't fought someone like Peter. Turns out a large slow hammer and mace weren't the best weapon choice against a quick agile fighter.

Peter repeatedly dodged Sandman's attacks even flipping over a table which Sandman was able to walk through by turning his lower half into sand. It seemed that his superpower was ridiculously overpowered and that was coming from someone like Peter. No one was perfect though; this moron must have a weakness. Peter continued allowed to let Sandman strike at Peter. Clearly, Sandman was just a guy with a really good power because he fought like a basic brawler and despite all his efforts to hit Peter resulted only in shattered furniture. His dad was going to be pissed. Peter had gotten a sense for Sandman's attack pattern though, it was mostly just swinging large, big sand weapons so it wasn't the most complicated.

From Sandman's perspective, Peter was just a hurricane of movement, every swing Sandman took Peter would nimbly duck or avoid then proceed to punch him in several different places every hit being in a new location. Peter was trying to see if William had some sort of Achilles heel, maybe a weak point that didn't turn into sand. Peter also found punching the person who had turned the couch he slept on into a small desert when he phased through it. Peter hates sleeping when sandy, it's awful.

Peter continued to land hit after hit trying to find Sandman's weakness, but one punch went too deep. Peter was stuck elbow deep in William's chest, he might be able to remove it with super strength, but would that be too suspicious? Peter didn't have a chance to think before his spider-sense warned him of impending pain. Unfortunately, there wasn't much Peter could do when he was stuck elbow deep into another man. That was a sentence Peter would rather he didn't think again. A torrent of sand erupted from Sandman's chest. William had turned his whole body to sand and used the mass from his arms and chest to create a large sand arm from his chest that enveloped Peter that shot Peter back a couple of metres into the glass sliding door to the balcony.

The glass door cracked almost on the verge of breaking but by some miracle held together as when Peter collided, and he let out a surprised gasp. His left arm and upper chest had been pinned against the glass and a giant mass of sand which stood strong unaffected by gravity and kept strong like a powerful sand bridge between Sandman and Peter. Damnit, this wasn't the best position for Peter he couldn't move his left arm as despite having super strength it didn't mean much if he couldn't get any momentum.

"If it's any consolation, you fought well," William spoke softly as if he thought Peter was already dead which only caused Peter to growl in annoyance.

"Anakin Skywalker was right, sand sucks." Peter glared at the human-sand-monster hybrid. Peter looked down seeing the sand keeping him against the glass slowly claw up his body, it flowed up his chest wrapping itself around his neck only inches from entering his mouth. Peter bit down hard to not even allow a grain of sand to sneak through his mouth. The idea of suffocation via sand wasn't exactly thrilling to Peter. Unfortunately, there was more than one way to his lungs and William also knew that. The sand continued to creep its way up to his nose preparing to crawl inside like parasitic worms. The thought made Peter feel nauseous.

A door swung open, "Peter, can you turn the movie down." MJ rubbed her eyes tiredly entering the living room. Peter and Sandman looked at MJ with surprise, thankfully the distraction stopped William's sand from killing Peter. It took MJ a few seconds to recognise what was happening blinking a few times, she even pinched herself thinking she might be dreaming.

"Um… Peter, what's happening?" MJ asked, He would have loved to answer but currently he was trying to keep sand from turning his lungs into a miniature desert.

"Leave girl." MJ was either too scared to move or thought that listing to a living sandcastle was stupid. Using MJ's distraction Peter brought his free right arm forwards then sent it back hard causing the glass to shatter. Without a wall, the sand pushing against him lost its pressure allowing Peter to gain some momentum. Then the sand and Peter the floor of the balcony Peter rolled out of his sandy prison before it could wrap itself around him again.

Peter dived further back from the balcony glass door where the sand began to flow back to the intruder rebuilding his body once more. Peter was stuck on the balcony with the only option to run away being the pool or jump off the side of the building without his web-shooters. Probably not the most ideal escape. The first issue was to make sure MJ didn't get herself killed.

"MJ this is all a dream go back to sleep!" MJ looked nervous at the situation she was in. Peter was fighting a weird snowman made of sand and the living room had been completely and utterly destroyed. Peter yelling at her just went in one ear and through the other.

"What's happening!" She yelled back at Peter. He was about to yell at her to go back to his room so he wouldn't have to deal with not only keeping himself alive but her as well, but Sandman had different ideas. Thankfully ignoring MJ, he aimed purely for Peter turning fully into sand and becoming a storm of sand and death approaching peter like a miniature tidal wave. Pros were that Peter didn't have to protect MJ; cons were that Peter was going to die. Sandman becoming fully sand used all the mass he had available to create a powerful wave of sand that was either going to crush Peter under him, push him off the edge of the building or suffocate him. Considering those options Peter opted for diving into the pool.

The water was cold but helped wake him up from his still slightly groggy state. The only thing that Grumpy the sandman has killed was his sleep schedule which was already on life support. The wave of sand washed over the pool falling harmlessly when it made contact with water. All the sand grains that washed over the balcony all began to conjoin once again by the side of the pool. Grain by grain the figure of the green striped shirt man rebuilt itself. He was waiting for Peter to run out of breath then he'd attack. Jokes on him though Peter could hold his breath for quite some time.

Sandman just looked at Peter with a glint of pity in his eye. Peter just growled underwater as a response; he wasn't dead yet. Sandman himself had gone back to his human mode although there was a small pocket of sand that remained on the side of his ribs. Why go human only to leave a small part of him still sand? Unless… Peter looked down in the water to see that the sand that collided with the pool had sunken and rested at the bottom of the pool defiant to Sandman's commands.

Water was his weakness. He couldn't control wet sand or at least couldn't effectively. Does that mean that if he loses sand, he has to collect more sand to rebuild his human form, or does sand regenerate like cells for him? No, Peter couldn't think about that right now he had found his weakness and that was what he had to focus on. Peter doubted his chances that he could tackle Sandman into the pool, there were sprinklers in the apartment, but Peter would need to start a fire or use his phone which basically has master control of the entire place. Oh, shit his phone! Peter looked through his pocket frantically, he didn't have much time to put it in rice and still activate the sprinklers. Thankfully, the phone wasn't on his person, he must have lost it when he was kicking the ass of this random superpowered dude in the living room.

Simple, all he had to do was get to the living room, get the phone and win. The not so simple part was getting out of this pool without Mr gets in-between your toes stopping him. The sand itself wasn't fast, or rather Peter should be able to hop out of the pool before his attempted killer gets his sandy hands around his throat again. Peter couldn't hold his breath forever.

Peter let himself fall to the bottom of the pool feeling the bottom tap against his feet, it was deeper than he would have liked but it was fine. Peter bent his legs and pushed himself off the bottom reaching up to grabs the tiles on the side of the pool flipping himself back to the surface sending water flying up. Peter was immediately greeted with two sand whips flying towards him, one aiming for his chest the other his leg. Diving to the left Peter avoided the two sandy tendrils that aimed to entrap him. Sandman's confidence in his abilities left him overconfident, despite being entirely sand he seemed to mainly only attack with his arms, maybe it was a subconscious thing or else why not make eight different sand tendrils. It could also be a limit to how many different sand structures he can control at once, multitasking put a lot of pressure on the brain, it's simpler to focus on a few than multiple. It was the same with dual-wielding swords as it was simpler and more effective to use one to block and attack than to use two, generally when it comes to duel wielding only one weapon would be used for an attack while a shorter weapon like a dagger would be for defending. He seemed to also maintain a human figure when he was sand so maybe the sand responded to his subconscious.

Peter charged towards Sandman leaping, ducking and sidestepping his two sand whips as Sandman tried to make a connection with Peter. He was just too quick and with his spider-sense, William wasn't even close to hitting him. It was when Peter was only two metres away from Sandman did, he transform fully into sand getting rid of the idea of his sand whips preferring to just let Peter get trapped in his body in the world's worst hug.

Peter couldn't get back into his home with Sandman blocking him, but it seemed like William was determined to catch Peter spacing out his sand form to appear larger to prevent Peter from going around him. The thought never even popped into Peter's head as Peter was understandingly pissed off by some random person trying to kill him. Peter wasn't trying to go around him rather through him. Aiming for where the sand was the thinnest, aka his head. Peter launched himself up delivering a powerful kick causing his head to explode into a shower of sand.

Allowing momentum to carry him Peter rolled when he hit the ground on the other side of Sandman who was momentarily shocked that Peter turns his face which was currently reattaching itself into a sand cloud. Peter used this moment to sprint back into his house. Where was that damn phone? Peter looked around desperately for his phone, Sandman was slow, but he wasn't that slow.

There it was beneath some shattered glass of a glass table that was ruthlessly destroyed during Sandman's wild strikes when he was trying to kill Peter. Sandman at this point had fully reattached himself and slowly walked towards Peter. The boy must be running out of steam, and he had almost killed Peter once if it wasn't for the girl interrupting him. 4

"Ready to give up yet?"

"This is like the hundredth time you've said that, take no for answer asshole. You'll never get a girlfriend if you can't respect a no then you'll never get a girlfriend, or boyfriend whatever floats your boat." Peter argued back, he stared down at Sandman who calmly walked through the shattered glass door back in his human form. Peter, however, was slowly inching his way to his phone, as he was now Sandman thought killing Peter was just a matter of time. If Peter showed some desperation to get to his phone Sandman might know something was wrong.

"Why are you even trying to kill me?" Peter asked still trying to make himself look natural as he made his way to the table. He just needed to stall for time. "I thought I told your mum we aren't telling people."

"My mother is dead."

"Hot," Peter smirked successfully reaching the phone. It was by his feet, but he doubted he could just naturally tie up his imaginary shoes. Sandman didn't react to Peter's taunts; Peter guessed the fact he was going to kill Peter made his taunts lose their meaning. Sandman surged forwards in his sand form again, but Peter was quicker. "Hey Siri, turn on sprinklers." It was a pain in the ass to add his own command to Siri but after Siri kept calling Prowler when he asked what the weather was Peter decided to do some editing. Turns out Siri saved his life so that was a small victory.

The sprinklers turned on showering William in water. It took a few seconds, but Sandman moved slower, and his face began to fall as wet sand. Peter saw his eyes made of sand widen in shock and a little fear, that fear made this whole waste of a night somewhat worth it. It was a little unsatisfying seeing Sandman make a break for the balcony in a rotating small sandstorm that kept trying to catch its own wet sand as it made a break for the side of the building. Peter saw a significantly smaller pile of sand make its way to the balcony; Peter didn't know how much sand was needed for William to survive but knowing his luck at best all he did was ruin his afternoon. Peter let out the breath he was holding in. That sucked, so much.

"Peter. What the fuck." MJ said still looking shellshocked on the sidelines.

Welp another chapter, hoped you enjoyed it have a good day. The next chapter is probably going to be shorter, but then again this was only supposed to be 4000 but ended up being 7000. So yeah. Have a good day… again.