Stow Away Chapter 36: Questioning
It's October. Halloween time. And all following chapters are part of the finale.
Things are going to get crazy!
Warnings:
There are some slightly detailed descriptions of blood and vomit in this chapter, as well as some emotional manipulation which can maybe be seen as . . . I don't want to give anything away . . . but . . . forced Stockholm Syndrome?
Also, Tandy's and Ty's powers here are based off of their original forms from comics (Wikipedia). I'm taking just a tiny bit of artistic liberty with the descriptions.
Guest: I am so sorry, but also so honored.
Blood. On his lips, fangs, tongue. On his hands. He gripped the toilet too hard. Half the bowl shattered. Ceramic shards sliced his palms. He stuck his hands onto the wall for support instead. Retching. His body had digested his food hours ago. It was only the acrid acid of his stomach that came up. Despite the awful way it burned his throat, the taste of blood remained.
Peter whined and climbed up to the sink. He didn't care if the toothpaste was abhorrently minty. He brushed his teeth once. Twice. The third time made him throw up all over again.
He could still taste the blood! No, smell it. That was his blood he was smelling. The soap smelled far better as he washed his hands.
Why could he tell?! Why was there this distinct difference between his blood (yuck) and Amadeus's blood (yum)?
Another wave of nausea hit Peter, but this time it only produced a dry retch. He stayed hovering over the toilet for a long moment, arms shaking, eyes dripping tears, mouth dripping saliva and vomit.
There wasn't any venom. At least he'd managed to keep that in.
He should be throwing up some more. This was big. This was awful! This feeling of disgust should never go away.
But it could travel. Transferring to other organs. Heart aching. Head pounding.
When it became clear that he couldn't empty his guts any further, Peter slumped against the wall and hugged his knees to his chest, burying his face in the fabric that smelled too unfamiliar to be comforting.
Peter knew he was supposed to be reprimanding himself. He was supposed to be analyzing what he'd done, and why he'd done it, so he could avoid it happening ever again. But . . .
But.
His thoughts were—jumbled. Racing. Fighting against each other.
He'd made a web and Amadeus had tried to destroy it and Peter had only been defending it when—
No, no, no, no, no what sort of explanation was that? What sort of reason was 'defending my web'? It was ridiculous and wrong!
Wrong, like Amadeus pulling at that strand like it wasn't somebody's web.
No, people don't have webs!
But people did have fists. Amadeus had tried to punch him. Vulture had nearly knocked the living daylights out of him.
Oh, gross, Peter had tried to bite him too! Why had he done that? Why did he even think biting was a viable option?
A memory forced its way through the internal argument. It was just the other night, when he and May had been sitting on his bed, discussing his venom.
"What is venom for?" May asked.
Peter's first thought was a definite wrong answer, food, but his second was better. "It's for emergencies?"
"I suppose so," May acknowledged as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Peter's tears renewed. He missed his aunt so much right now. He needed her. He needed her to tell him that it was okay, that this counted as an emergency.
But what if it didn't? He hadn't actually been in danger this time. He had only been indignant about his web. And maybe he was constantly annoyed by Amadeus at this point. Neither of those were good enough reasons to bite him.
They had felt like good reasons at the time though.
Peter relived the thought process again. It seemed absolutely terrible now, but just a few minutes ago it had all made complete sense. It—it still made sense, in a way. The train of thought had some logic behind it. The problem was that it was wrong logic.
Peter hadn't really known there could be wrong logic. Sure, he dealt with fanatics all the time who claimed that various conspiracy theories were true, but in all those cases you could see the flaws in logic. The mental misstep, the calculation error, the biased assumption. There was always something inherently incorrect about their process, and if the person would just calm down and think it through again, they would likely be able to see where they went astray.
(*cough* Goblin. *cough, cough* Doc Ock)
But this whole morning made sense. Peter had been safe in his web, the safety was breached, and he reacted accordingly.
Or wait, he hadn't acted accordingly. He had majorly overreacted. Hadn't he?
No you didn't, a very scared part of his brain assured him.
Yes we did! The rest of Peter screamed back vehemently.
You didn't think you were overreacting when Tandy threw that light blast of calm at you.
That was . . . true. Whatever Tandy had done to him made him—briefly—believe that everything was fine. That nothing strange or terrible had happened.
But it did happen and it was terrible. There was absolutely no doubt about it.
So why was he so unsure?
It was wrong. Peter was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong—
There was a knock on the door. That was wrong. It was too soon. Far too soon. Peter couldn't deal with these people right now. He didn't want to bite anyone again.
Peter sucked in a shuddering breath. "Go away!" The demand came out weak and hoarse from all the vomiting.
"We just want to make sure you're okay," Taskmaster's voice came through the door soft and gentle.
Peter stiffened. He had been expecting Tandy or Adrien to check up on him, not Taskmaster. This was worse. "I'm f—fine!" Why was it so hard to lie this one time when it really mattered? "Just leave me alone!"
"I don't think it's safe for you to be alone right now. The others said you looked like you were about to have a panic attack."
A panic attack? Was that what this was? Peter had fell victim to more than a few panic attacks in his short lifetime, but he hadn't always been aware of what they were, so he was prone to misdiagnosing himself. "I'll deal with it myself!"
"That's not a healthy mindset."
Oh, so now Taskmaster was trying to be his therapist? Peter weakly scoffed. He'd dealt with this specific type of breakdown before with Kraven.
. . . Except he hadn't really handled that. Not by himself. He had fainted almost immediately after he'd realized what he'd done, and then he had been in shock and denial once he woke up. That wasn't handling it at all.
But he hadn't passed out this time, so that was something to be proud of.
. . . Wasn't it?
Peter's brow furrowed. On one hand, he did not want to pass out here of all places, but on the other hand, didn't this warrant a more severe response? It wasn't like Amadeus had been threatening him like Kraven had. And he wasn't supposed to be freaking out less about these awful mistakes. He could learn from them, sure, but he could never ever feel normal about it.
Well, he had thrown up. A lot. And cried. Those were sufficient reactions given these circumstances, right? They weren't as severe as fainting, but they were safer. Besides, this mistake hadn't been as bad as with Kraven. Peter hadn't used his venom here. Amadeus might be in pain, but he wasn't in mortal danger like Kraven had been.
"Peter?" Taskmaster rapped his knuckles on the door again. "I need to make sure you're okay. I'm coming in."
Peter inhaled sharply as the lock clicked. Taskmaster had keys to the bathrooms?! That was creepy and insane and it took away the one place where Peter had thought he could hide away!
As Taskmaster entered, Peter was suddenly struck by how tiny these bathrooms were and how close he would be to Taskmaster and oh god was Taskmaster kneeling down to comfort him?! Peter planted his hands and feet on the wall behind and shimmied up to the ceiling.
"S—s—s—" Peter tried to tell him to stay away, but the s kept turning into a hiss. He licked his lips and changed tactics. "Don't touch me!"
Taskmaster held his hands up in a placating manner. "What's wrong? Are you afraid you'll hurt me too?"
Peter had been more afraid of Taskmaster hurting him, but now that Taskmaster mentioned it, he did feel a weird sensation in the roof of his mouth. He'd been fearing for his life for too long. The pressure was starting.
"It's okay, Peter. Come down and we can discuss what happened."
Peter shook his head vehemently, which felt weird with how his spider sense was tingling. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"
Taskmaster's head tilted. "One of your eyes is green. Does that always happen when you're afraid?"
What?! Peter blinked multiple times, trying to feel the contacts. The plastic burned against his right eye, but his left was clear. When he closed his right eye, the room seemed ten times brighter.
He lost it! He must have rubbed it out in his sleep. Oh no, no, no this couldn't be happening! His last few secrets were all on display! His fangs were out, his left eye was probably glowing in this light, and if he stayed here much longer, he was going to need to use his venom.
"Peter, you're hyperventilating. Breath with me, follow my rhythm, and you'll feel better. In . . . and out . . . In . . ."
Oh, so now he was on the brink of passing out. But Peter really didn't want to faint in front of Taskmaster, so he held back a grimace and breathed in time with him. The lightheadedness went away.
"Good. Are you ready to come down yet? We really need to understand what happened so we can help you."
Peter shook his head a little more calmly this time. "You can help by going away."
"Has this ever happened before? How did Shield help you?"
The nice memories from the night with Kraven came to him. The ones where Danny and Sam tended his wounds, Aunt May held him close even though he'd been on the edge of acting like a monster, and Phoebe purred against him.
None of that was here.
"There's nothing you can do," Peter answered firmly, though his voice cracked. "Just go away, and then I can try to pull myself back together."
Somehow, Taskmaster's face, Coach Yaeger's face, Anthony Master's face, twisted with deep concern. "I don't know what you're used to, Peter, but around here we deal with things together."
"You kidnapped me! You can't help me!" Peter snapped at him, and before he could stop himself, he added, "You're terrifying!"
Now comprehension dawned on Taskmaster's face. Peter hated it. "Your spider instincts are in control now, aren't they?"
"They're not in control," Peter muttered. "Just warning me."
"And that's why you attacked the others and are currently stuck to the ceiling?"
"I'm not stuck!" Although the idea of dropping down to the floor filled him with dread.
"Peter," Taskmaster's voice was annoyingly sympathetic. "Whether you're willing to admit it or not, you need help. You shouldn't feel bad about that. Adrien also needs help sometimes. Tandy has been wonderful in that regard." He leaned out of the doorway and gave a signal, making space for Tandy to enter. She looked up at Peter with innocent pity.
Peter's stomach sank. He did not want a repeat of that terrible calm. "Wait! Please, I'll be okay! I'll come down! I promise!"
Tandy's lips pressed together sadly. "Are you sure, Pete? I don't mean to be rude, but you look like you're in a bad place right now."
He was. He was in such a bad place right now physically and mentally. He could fight through it though. He had to. "I'll be fine."
"Okay, come down then." Taskmaster stepped out to give him room.
Taking another few calming breaths, Peter released his grip and—
Huh.
Released his grip and—
Nope.
Released at least one hand from—
"Um . . ." He—he wasn't actually stuck, was he? He'd never been stuck before (at least not since he first got his powers). But then again, he didn't often try to drop down into danger (not when he was so helpless).
He wasn't in immediate danger though. If he went back to the floor now, no one would attack him. Probably. So why was his spider sense making such a big stink about it?
Yeah . . . why was his spider sense constantly ringing? He usually only ever felt it when there was an imminent physical attack, but now it'd been going nonstop for hours and hours. Was he—was it capable of being paranoid? Was it capable of being . . . untrustworthy?
Oh great, now Peter wasn't even sure if he could trust himself or his instincts. What a way to ease his anxiety.
Not.
"Can you come down, Pete?" Tandy asked softly.
"I . . . uh . . ." Peter tried to shut out all of his doubts as he tried to loosen his grip again. He wasn't going to get hurt. He wasn't going to hurt anyone. He wasn't going to use his venom on anyone. He could get back down to floor level, hang out with these somewhat nice people, and be perfectly fine.
"Peter," Taskmaster said, now with a touch of pleading that was insane to hear. "You're hurt. Your hands are bleeding. Come down and let us help you."
"I . . ." Peter tugged, starting to feel trapped by his own body. He needed to get down now before Tandy could use her psycho calm powers and make him all dazed. Staying up here on the ceiling was not the best way to handle this situation!
But it was how his instincts wanted to handle the situation.
He was still very much in the middle of a breakdown, no matter how hard he tried to push through it. He felt ragged and emotional and far too weak to fight against this—this . . . spider mood. That's what this was. His instincts were taking the steering wheel while the rest of his mind was in utter turmoil.
"I can't," Peter admitted in a small whisper. Tears were leaking down his face again. "I can't let go. Please, just leave me here for a little longer, and I should be able to get down. Please."
"You need medical attention just as much as Amadeus right now," Taskmaster stated. He gave a nod to Tandy, and she raised her hands, light building up around them. Peter hoped he could dodge, that his instincts would recognize it as the threat that it was. It sure did look like a power blast or something else dangerous.
But Tandy didn't do a power blast like last time. She placed the toilet seat down on the cracked bowl and stood on it, reaching up until her glowing hands rested on Peter's knees.
The effect was slower this time too. Calmness spread through Peter in lazy, gentle waves.
"It's going to be okay," Tandy said, her voice so sweet. "I understand this is very new for you, and you're having a bad day on top of that."
Pfft. Yeah, that was an understatement. Peter was having the worst day and he was not going to let this magic make him feel better about it.
"But we've all had our bad days. Ty sometimes lets his fear control him, and he just wants to shut the world out."
Shutting the world out. Now that was a good idea. Wouldn't it be nice if he could go back to his web and give it some walls, make his own little room, his personal bubble of protection. That would work way better than this highly ineffective manipulation.
"Adrien nearly burst our eardrums when he used to wake from a nightmare screeching."
Ugh, nightmares. Peter was going to have nightmares about this, wasn't he? But that would be alright. They were only dreams.
"I've nearly let myself be consumed by own light."
How was that bad? Her light was so nice . . .
"It happens to all of us. So you're not alone. We're here to help. I'm here, right now, to help. You're going to be okay."
Her words washed over him, nearly as effective as her magic. One by one, Peter felt his muscles relax. His fingers and toes did that thing where they stopped being sticky. He slid down the wall. As he descended, Tandy moved her hands up to his shoulders. She smiled at him. "Feeling better?"
Peter looked down at her hands, how they touched him without hurting him, how they put an end to all the terrible thoughts he'd been having before.
Maybe . . . maybe she really truly wasn't an enemy.
Tandy's smile grew wider and she pulled him away from the wall and into a hug.
Being completely enveloped by her light was blissful, like being in a web. That was enough to make Peter's spider sense sputter to a peaceful halt. It was only then that Peter realized how much of a headache it had been giving him, how much the tingle could affect his thoughts.
Now that it was finally gone, he could relax.
Peter's feet touched the ground, but his legs were weak. He leaned heavily against Tandy as she led him to help, to safety.
MJ was nursing a mug of hot tea when the front door opened. She looked up, smiling wanly at the small group that just entered. Then she did a doubletake, which almost turned into a literal spit take when she realized the dual identities of the people in front of her.
These weren't just some fun and interesting friends from school. These were superheroes, people who continuously gave up their time and safety for the sake of others. These were people who had looked evil in the face and promptly punched it, no matter how hard it fought back.
Okay, no, she was not going to start hero worshipping these people. She admired them, sure, but MJ never placed anyone on an untouchably high pedestal.
But this felt different than meeting them as only superheroes or only regular teenagers. She'd had the fortune (or misfortune depending on how you looked at it) of talking to multiple superheroes, but she'd never really known them. Now she had to come to terms with the fact that she was sort of friends with five full superheroes.
She cleared her throat and tried to speak as calmly as possible. "Hey, guys, Aunt May was just telling me a little bit about what you do! I mean, not that I didn't already know, you're pretty famous, but she was elaborating on some things the media doesn't cover." MJ internally winced at how she still sounded a little like a fangirl.
The team paused in the doorway to the living room, blinking a few times. What was wrong? Was it rude to talk about superhero stuff during civilian hours? Did they not want her to know? It wasn't that hard to figure out, especially once she had confirmation on Peter.
"Um, what do we do exactly?" Ava asked with feigned ignorance. MJ frowned at the odd response until she realized what was really going on.
"Oh, of course! You don't know that I know. Just so we're all on the same page, I had a strong suspicion of Pete being Spider-Man, which Director Fury was forced to confirm yesterday. And then I was able to piece other things together like how you're the rest of Spider-Man's team. I'm—uh—sorry if you didn't want anyone to know, but . . ." MJ shrugged. "I can never shut off my brain."
A few more blinks, and then the team began to loosen up.
"I guess we should have expected that," Luke said as he collapsed in the armchair.
"Yeah, it seems really obvious in hindsight that our investigative reporter friend investigated us," Ava muttered with some sarcasm and . . . a growl? That was so cool.
"I can give you an autograph later," Sam promised as he stretched out on the loveseat.
"Was it elementary, Ms. Watson?" Danny asked with a grin.
The others snapped to attention, sitting up and staring at him. "Did Danny just say a false phrase as a joke instead of some great wisdom?!" Sam exclaimed.
"Dude, are you feeling okay?" Luke asked.
Danny sat near MJ, small smile still playing on his lips, though it seemed a bit grimmer now. "The green reed which bends in the wind is stronger than the mighty oak which breaks in a storm."
The rest of the team nodded with a lot more understanding than MJ felt. What was she missing here?
Aunt May came back then, laden with a huge plate of cookies and crackers. "Hello everyone. How are you all doing? You all look exhausted."
Oh, yes, they did. How did MJ miss that?
"We're fine. We finished the search Fury assigned us this morning. No sign of Taskmaster yet." Ava glanced at MJ. "So you were telling MJ about us?"
MJ's heart dropped. Was her knowledge going to strain their friendship now? That was kind of unfair, but she could sort of understand.
"We really only spoke about how she knew about Spider-Man's identity for quite some time now," May answered softly. "I did confirm your identities though. I'm sorry."
"It's fine," Ava said quickly. "It's just—odd."
"Don't worry," MJ assured her, relieved. "I'm not going to go wild asking you questions or anything. I'm still your friend first and foremost, not a reporter. And it's not like there's much to ask anyway. You've saved me enough times that I know most of your powers anyway." She paused. "Thanks for saving my life, by the way."
Most of them waved it off, but Sam wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm still accepting thank-you kisses."
MJ raised an eyebrow at him. "It's normally Pete who swings me to safety."
"Yeah, but I helped."
Ava threw a cracker at him. "Stop pestering or I'm gonna glue your mouth shut!"
Sam wilted into the cushions at the threat.
It was now incredibly obvious that they were a team. How did she not notice their interactions before?
"Anyway," Luke said. "We wouldn't mind questions. It really is just a bit of a shock to have someone else know about us. May has been the only non-Shield person we could talk to."
"Wow, so only Shield agents knew your identities?" MJ asked, realizing after the fact that she was already using their permission to ask questions.
"Some do. It is revealed only on a need-to-know basis," Danny replied. "Our doctor, Dr. Connors, knows."
MJ smiled. "I feel very special then."
The room settled into a comfortable silence as everyone began to nibble the cookies. MJ tried really hard not to ask another question, but there was such a morose atmosphere, she needed to do something about it. That's what Peter would do. He would find a way to lift their spirits.
Or distract them with a bunch of questions.
"I don't want to sound cliché, but what's it like to have powers? Do you feel chosen or blessed or singled out or . . . I don't know. I tried putting myself in the superhero mindset when I wrote the play, but I really have no idea."
The team exchanged glances, seeming to have a silent debate.
"I think it depends on how you get your powers," Luke answered slowly. "Because we all feel a little different about it."
Ooh, this was more interesting than she had expected. "How so?"
They exchanged glances again. This time all eyes settled on Danny.
"Personally, I worked hard to earn my Iron Fist," Danny said, lighting his fist on fire. MJ couldn't help but gawk. "I felt unfulfilled with my life here, so I travelled to Shun'Lun. The elders there trained me, and eventually I earned the Great Dragon's respect. The training was extremely difficult, which is why I am grateful for their faith in me. I am also humbled by my success. I was not chosen, but I was blessed."
MJ had known he was the heir to the Rand fortune, and she had even suspected that he'd spent time somewhere in Asia to learn all these Monk ways, but knowing that he was blessed by a real dragon made it ten times cooler. The magic fire probably had something to do with it. "Wow, would congratulations be way too late? Because I think you deserve a whole graduation ceremony or something."
Danny chuckled. "There will be plenty of ceremony once I return to Shun'Lun."
"Yeah, he's their rightful ruler now or whatever," Sam added with a roll of his eyes, but he was grinning.
"Ruler?" MJ echoed. "As in, he's in charge of the kingdom? Or the monkhood? City? I'm not entirely sure what Shun'Lun is to be honest."
"I am afraid I cannot be very forthcoming about Shun'Lun, not until I can convince them to develop relations with the rest of the world, but . . . ruler is not an inaccurate term." Danny looked away self-consciously, almost blushing.
Luke clapped him on the back, chuckling. "Danny, you and Pete are tied for 'most humble people in the universe'. If anyone deserves to rule anywhere, it's you."
"Peter is humbler than I. He helped me retain my right to rule even when it placed him in danger. That also earned him a claim to the throne."
May nearly choked on her tea. "Peter what?!"
"It is more of an honorary right, than anything else," Danny hastily explained. "Though I suppose, if something were to happen to me and he completed the same tests, then he could indeed replace me."
"I thought he was joking when he said he was better royalty than me!" Sam complained, folding his arms.
"We need to talk about this at some point, Danny," May said weakly.
"Of course, my apologies, Mrs. Parker."
Filing that knowledge away in her mental detective notepad, MJ got the conversation back on track. "Did anyone else need to complete a test to gain their powers?"
Ava snorted. "If Sam needed to complete a test, he would never have gotten that helmet."
"Hey! I'll have you know that I did pass their entrance exam once I learned it existed." Sam took center stage now. "I'm a member of the Nova Corps, which is like a police system for the entire galaxy. My dad was Nova too. He left me his helmet because he knew Earth would need protection from aliens. Which we did. Except the Guardians of the Galaxy let me join their group by the time the Chitauri attacked, so I was kind of off planet . . . But now I'm back and I'm the official Nova for this Earth!"
If Danny had been surprising, this was even more so because MJ had not expected Sam to be part of an official police force. She hadn't even expected the galaxy to have a police force. "You're telling me that in galactic terms, you're the sheriff around these parts?"
Sam gasped. "Yes! That's perfect! I'm using that every time we fight an alien!" He struck a pose. "See, I'm sort of like a celebrity up in space, working with all the well-known heroes throughout the galaxy. I may not have gone through formal training like Danny, but I did manage to impress the Nova Corps enough that they let me keep my helmet, so I'm rightfully proud of myself."
MJ didn't even need to encourage the next person. Ava scoffed indignantly. "If anyone here is proud, it's me." She turned to MJ. "My dad was the last owner of the Tiger Amulet. He could have chosen any of my older cousins as the next White Tiger, but he chose me. He taught me everything he knew, and every day I get to keep his legacy alive along with the line of the White Tiger."
"So you're like the one true wielder of that amulet?" MJ asked.
Ava tilted her head in a so-so gesture. "Anyone who holds it can use it, but it takes discipline to use it appropriately. I'm more of a guardian, ensuring it's only used for good."
"I can't even get my parents to trust me with their car, and you've been trusted with this magic relic. I'm jealous."
Ava let out a little huff that she cut short, looking rather flattered, which was the point. The girl hadn't really smiled since she came in.
"And what about you, Luke?
Luke was the only one who didn't smile in his retelling. "My situation is a little different. I didn't choose to be like this, but it wasn't exactly an accident either. My parents were—are scientists. We were on a plane when the Zodiac attacked, which is a group a little like Hydra. They wanted to use my parent's research for evil. When it was clear we were outnumbered, my mom forced me to jump out of the plane, but not before she injected me with their serum. It's the only way I survived." He cleared his throat. "As you can imagine, I'm grateful she did it because I'm alive. But at the same time . . . I never asked for this. I never earned it like everyone else."
There was an awkward moment of silence which May thankfully broke. "It's alright, Luke, you certainly do deserve your powers. And at least your parents knew what they were doing. Peter was just another Oscorp accident."
There were several different reactions to this statement. Luke's eyes blew wide. Danny gasped softly. Sam's brows scrunched together. Ava's eyes narrowed. And MJ nearly choked on her cookie.
"Oscorp?!" MJ shrieked. "Did Mr. Osborn experiment on him?!"
"No, the Osborns had nothing to do with it. But some careless scientist left genome-altering spiders running about," May elaborated bitterly.
MJ pieced the clues together. "He was bitten by Oscorp's experimental spiders? How did that happen?"
May shrugged somewhat dejectedly. "He never spoke about it much, just that it occurred during the field trip."
Even more clues were clicking into place. "The Oscorp field trip that Harry arranged? Oh my god, that's—Harry did it for Pete and that's how he got his powers?"
May was going to reply again, but Ava interrupted. "Which is why you can't tell Harry," she said firmly.
May nodded. "Ava's right. It's very important to keep Peter's identity a secret."
"Of course," MJ agreed easily. She was nosy, not stupid. "So if Peter got his powers completely by accident, how does he feel about them?"
Everyone stayed quiet for a long moment. Sam was the one to hesitantly speak up.
"You should probably wait to ask Pete that yourself. We all got to explain it to you ourselves, so he should too."
"Makes sense." MJ was now extremely curious about the answer, but she wasn't going to push it. She had already slipped further into interrogation mode than she had wanted. So she allowed that conversation to come to a close. She would ask Peter when he got back. Because he would come back. She had to believe that.
"Can you believe that May called him an Oscorp accident?!" Sam exclaimed on their way back to the Helicarrier. "That's exactly what Doc Ock and Goblin called him when they found out where he got his powers! How could she use the phrase too?!"
"Mrs. Parker may not be aware of the details of our conversations with villains," Danny said uncertainly.
"Yeah, Pete tones things down all the time," Luke agreed hollowly. "Why would he tell her that Dr. Octopus called him that too?"
"You can't just call someone an accident though!" Sam maintained. "Besides, even the Daily Bugle has used that term when they speculated that he was created by Oscorp like the rest of the bad guys. May has to know."
Everyone turned to Ava. She didn't look at them, only kept walking at their steady pace. "I told you something was up with her," she stated simply. Sweet vindication was finally truly hers, they had firsthand proof at last, but it wasn't so sweet after all.
"What does this mean, then?" Luke wondered out loud. "I mean, it's one thing for May to feel uncomfortable or whatever she's been feeling about his spider stuff. But to talk about it like that . . . Did she sound bitter to any of you?"
There were nods from everyone.
"Perhaps Peter was right," Danny suggested forlornly. "Perhaps May associates the arrival of Spider-Man with the start of terrible things. She lost her husband, and then she was under the impression that her nephew was falling in with the wrong crowd. And even now knowing the truth, it cannot be easy to know that someone you love is risking their life every day."
"That doesn't mean you get to take your anger out on them though," Ava said. "My mom was never entirely happy that my dad had the amulet. She worried about him until the day she died, and sometimes she got angry when he stayed out late on days he was supposed to be at home, but she never spoke badly about the amulet."
"But like you said, that amulet is your legacy. An inheritance," Sam said. "People can understand that. Pete though . . . even he feels like he never wanted his powers sometimes."
Ava thought back to that first conversation they'd had at the start of their supposed 'Battle of the Senses' series. She thought of the moment when Peter went upside down and poured his heart out and that tear rolled down his forehead. Peter hadn't sounded happy about his powers then. 'You don't know what you've got until it's gone,' he had said about his humanity. "You're right. I bet if we asked, Pete would call himself an Oscorp accident too. He resents the spider bite because it changed him way more than he ever wanted."
"Are you guys sure?" Luke asked.
Sam and Ava looked at each other and nodded. Ava didn't even care that she was agreeing with him. She just wanted to get the point across to the others now.
"He shouldn't think that way!" Luke exclaimed after their silent answer.
"Why not?" Danny asked. "Is he not allowed to feel resentment towards something that changed his life irreparably? Did you not resent the Zodiac for forcing you to live for years without your parents?"
Luke struggled to respond. "That's—that's different. The Zodiac chose to attack my parents, so they're really at fault. I can be upset at them because they did it on purpose."
"Then what about Peter, for whom it truly was an accident? I doubt the scientists simply decided to let their million-dollar spiders loose that day. There was no rhyme nor reason in his origins."
Luke didn't have a response to that. Ava also didn't know what to think. She didn't want Peter to see himself that way, but she didn't want to be like May and decide what he should think either.
"What does that mean about May, then?" Sam asked. "If Pete told her that he was an accident, then she would just be repeating what he said, but shouldn't she, like, not do that? Aren't parental figures supposed to tell you things like 'you matter' and 'you're perfect just the way you are'?" He pitched his voice in a high falsetto with each common quote.
"May does say those things," Ava admitted. "Sometimes. Just not when he's talking about his spider stuff."
"You don't get to pick and choose when you support someone though," Luke said.
"What can Pete do about this?" Sam asked. "He was right about one thing. He can't just make May change her mind."
"No, but he can tell her what is on his mind," Danny said determinedly.
Ava folded her arms. "That's going to take forever! It's taking him long enough just to tell us! He promised he would talk to us about this last night and look what happened!"
"When we get him back, are we gonna corner him again like we did that time after training?" Sam asked.
"That doesn't sound like a bad idea," Luke consented.
After that they slipped into a mutual silence. Ava didn't know for sure what the others were thinking, but she suspected it was similar to her own thoughts.
For the first time since they had known her, May's love was under question. And not just her love for her nephew.
If she didn't like his powers, then what did she really think about the rest of the team?
