Spider-Man: High School Rules

12: Suffering Consequences

"Breaking news; two civilians have been shot dead in a gang-related murder.

Matt Hart, 28, and his boyfriend Anthony Walker, 33, were found dead last night in a parking lot, their bodies discarded by a dumpster. Security footage shows Hart and Walker parking their car in the lot at 7:23pm. When they returned at 11:29pm, they unwillingly stumbled upon an illegal weapons deal. The security footage shows the dealers panicking, before one of them opens fire on the two men."

The footage cuts to a young man; the heading describes him as Will Henderson, friend of Matt Hart's.

"Matt was a sweet man and did nothing wrong. He and Tony were good people, they weren't involved with gangs. I can't believe something like this could happen to them."

The footage then cuts to Captain George Stacy of the NYPD.

"We have reason to believe that this is the same gang we have been tracking for some time now. We're close to unravelling their operation – we know where they tend to operate, and it's only a matter of time before they slip up."

"Captain Stacy, would this murder have happened if Spider-Man was there to prevent it?"

George, visibly sighing, turns and walks back into the NYPD building behind him while reporters continue to hurl questions at him.

"Captain Stacy, has your condemning of vigilantes made the city more dangerous?"

"Captain Stacy? Captain Stacy?"

The TV switched off, a disgruntled George Stacy dropping the remote on the couch beside him before standing to his feet.

"I mean, come on," he complained, "Why leave in the heckling? Why make this about Spider-Man?"

"It's not your fault, George," Helen reassured him, "They're just trying to pin blame on someone, that's all."

"Then pin blame on the gang members that killed them!" George exclaimed, "They should not be making the murder of these two men about whether or not we should allow vigilantism."

Gwen sat curled up in her seat, silently processing everything she'd heard in the news report before her dad abruptly turned it off. Her thoughts were with Peter; had he heard all of this? Was he taking the blame? After all, he took the blame for his uncle's death.

Leaving her father to rant to her mother, she walked up to her room, unplugging her phone from its charger and dialling Peter's number.

-Buzz-. –Buzz-.

Peter sat up in his bed, back pressed against the wall behind him. Looking around for his phone, he rummaged through the blankets before finding it, screen lit up.

Incoming Call...

Gwen 3

Swipe up to answer

Swipe down to decline

Peter waited a few seconds then swiped up.

"Hey," he heard Gwen's voice crackle, "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine," Peter replied half-heartedly.

"Have you heard... what happened?" Gwen reluctantly asked, "To those two men?"

"I heard."

"Pete, what happened – it wasn't your fault, okay? No matter what the media say. You weren't even there –"

"Yeah, exactly, I wasn't there. And look what happened."

"Peter, you can't take all this responsibility on yourself. Bad things like this probably happened every night, even when you were," Gwen stopped before speaking in a hushed voice, "Even when you were still Spider-Man."

"I had a responsibility, Gwen," Peter retorted, "So what if I couldn't stop all the bad things happening? I had the power to stop just one – to save one life, to stop one crime from taking place."

"Peter, please, you can't blame this all on yourself."

"Look, I just need a bit of time, okay?" Peter continued, getting continuously more worked up, "I need to think about what I'm going to do next. I'm sorry."

Without being able to get another word in, Gwen heard a beep from her phone. Pulling it from her ear, she read the screen. "Call ended."

She tried calling Peter again, then, when he didn't pick up, she tried a second time. Then a third, then a fourth, before realising that, for now, she had done all she could. Peter needed some space, just like she needed hers the other night. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Gwen wondered what would happen next between her and Pete.

It's your fault.

If you were there, things could have been different.

These thoughts bounced around the walls in Peter's mind, eerily reminiscent of his feelings shortly after Ben died; feelings of uselessness, of self-pity.

But by acknowledging that, Peter recognised something.

When Uncle Ben died, did I just give up? No! I set out to avenge him before realising that I could serve a greater purpose.

The deaths of Matt Hart and Anthony Walker were tragic. Yes, things could have been different if I was there – but does that mean that I should carry on neglecting the responsibilities I have?

No!

He leapt up out of his bed and flung his closet doors open, revealing the cast-aside Spider-Man outfit in a heap on the wooden floor.

But if I come back, they'll release my identity to the public. No matter what I do – unless I work for them – the whole world will know who I am.

Sitting back down, ideas rushed through Peter's brain before something clicked. When they – whoever they were – kidnapped Spider-Man; after they interrogated him at their base, they didn't bag him up and drop him off somewhere, far away. No – they just let him walk right on out.

I still remember the way. I know how to get to this crime lord's base of operations – and I'll bet that, if I have time to spare, I could deal with the security footage myself.

This would be the perfect opportunity to go out crime-fighting normally. It was late, Aunt May was in bed, all the conditions required for Pete to sneak out. Just one thing was missing; the web shooters, still confiscated in the hands of the boss. For his own convenience, he'd have to wait until he had a new set prepared before going back out.

"This is risky, y'know," Montana watched with his arms crossed, binoculars in hand, as a deal went on a few dozen meters away. "We ain't in our territory anymore."

After the heightened interest in the activities of the gang they participated in, Hammerhead had organized deals to be conducted outside their usual area. Montana knew for sure that the location of this deal was not in their territory.

"It'll be fine," Dan replied nonchalantly, "It's not anything major, and it'll just be for a short while until the heat dies down."

They went silent again, Montana periodically checking his binoculars.

"Almost one week, boys," the Ox smirked, "A week since the web-head was last sighted."

"We sure taught him a lesson," Montana's lip curled, "He won't be hasslin' us again."

From the distance, a thud echoed towards them, the sound of something hard making contact with flesh. Montana immediately raised his binoculars over his eyes as the other two Enforcers stood to their feet.

"What is it?" the Ox asked, "Is it him?"

"Shut up, wouldja?" Montana spat as he tried to make out what was happening. He saw something fly across his lens and, following it in its direction, he saw a man collapse to the floor. Moving back in the direction it came from, he saw a man dressed in all black fighting the remaining dealers.

"What's happening?" Dan asked urgently, "C'mon, man, we gotta go!"

"Go in," Montana waved them, dropping the binoculars and grabbing the handle of his lariat as the three charged in. Montana kept his eyes on the figure, moving swiftly with ease around the dealers, and as they approached he better made out his appearance.

He wore simple, plain attire; black cargo pants, black trainers, a long-sleeved black top with white bandages wrapped from his hands up the length of his forearm, and a black bandana, tied around the top half of his head. Of his face, only his mouth could be seen, permanently scowling. How exactly the man could see was inexplicable.

With a thrash of his arm, Montana fully extended his lariat, the end of it clapping against the concrete with a loud crack. The man shot his head in Montana's direction as he threw the Lariat towards his chest. Twisting out the way, the man placed both hands on the rope and dived backwards, sending Montana flat on his face. The Ox and Fancy Dan watched the man, trying to determine his next move, as Montana wiped the dirt off his face.

"He ain't Spider-Man..." Montana grunted as he stood back to his feet. Letting out a battle cry, Dan quickly approached the man, kicking and chopping wildly but despite the rapidity of his movements, the man evaded them every time before blocking Dan's hand and sweeping him off his feet, Dan landing hard on his back.

The Ox began to stomp over but, in the corner of Montana's eye, he saw one of the dealers, still on his feet with a shotgun in hand.

"No!" Montana yelled in an effort to stop the Ox from getting caught in the crossfire. Instinctively, the man grabbed a pistol, presumably dropped on the floor from one of the dealers. Throwing it hard at the ground, roughly mid-way in the gap between the man and the armed dealer, the pistol bounced off the floor and hit the dealer square in the jaw, letting out a groan of agony as he fell black, misfiring into the air.

The Ox now took this as his opportunity to move. He swiped towards the man with hands like bear paws, although it proved equally ineffective to Dan's efforts as the man dived to the floor, rolling out the way. Montana decided to make another attempt with his lariat, spinning it around above his head as he looked down at Dan.

"You gonna get up?" Montana scolded him as Dan winced, standing to his feet.

"Who the hell's this guy?" Dan gritted his teeth, "Hammerhead sure as hell never said shit about ninjas..."

Montana watched as the Ox attacked blindly, tiring himself out against his opponent who had not yet had a single hit land on him. Soon, he found a clear shot at the man, throwing his lariat once again, aiming towards the man's bicep.

Yet again, it was fruitless. The man caught it with ease and pulled it hard out of Montana's hands, sending the handle of it flying into the back of the Ox's head. The Ox grunted as he fell onto his knees, holding a hand to the back of his head.

The man beat on him with ruthless force, not holding back a single punch as he unloaded his fists, bloodying the Ox's face. With each blow came a primal grunt.

"I'll show this son of a bitch..." Dan muttered as he ran towards him from behind the Ox, leaping over the two before kicking down on the man, catching him off guard. He staggered back while maintaining his footing and wiped a streak of blood using his already bloodied, bandaged fists.

Throwing his leg up towards the man's face, Dan found himself hopping awkwardly as the man caught it in his hands. He threw the leg up, sending Dan hurtling onto his back again, unable to get up as the man pinned him to the floor, unleashing a similarly brutal punishment to the one he inflicted on the Ox. Dan tried to cover his face with his hands, but the man simply punched through.

Montana quietly stepped over to pick up the Lariat, still on the ground beside a beaten Ox, lying painfully on his side, before hearing the sounds of punches turn to silence. Montana, looking up while he bent down to reach the Lariat, saw the man standing, breathing heavily while looking straight at him. Montana figured he had just as good odds of beating him with the Lariat as he did without it.

Standing upright and charging the man, Montana was met with a punch to the gut. He fell back, winded, catching his breath. Just as he felt himself recover, the man grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pulling him a few inches up off the floor with his other hand raised, fist clenched.

"Hammerhead," the man ordered, barely catching his breath, "Where is he? Where can I find him?"

"What do you care?" Montana snarled, "I ain't gotta tell you shit, man –"

He was cut off by a punch across the face.

"Tell me!" the man shouted before the lower half of his face dropped and his head tilted upwards slightly. Without saying another word, he picked up his batons from off the floor and left the scene while Montana lay there oblivious.

Seconds later, the sounds of sirens faded in from the silence, growing louder and louder.

"Shit," Montana grunted, struggling onto his feet. He looked down at the Ox beside him. He was too big, too badly beaten – there was no way he could carry him away. He staggered over to Dan, face bruised and bloodied, but still conscious.

"Dan," Montana grabbed his hand, tensing as he pulled him onto his feet, "The cops are comin', Dan, we gotta go."

"The... The Ox..." Dan pointed as Montana put his arm around his shoulder and guided him away.

"We can't do anythin' to help him, Dan," Montana reasoned, "He's too big to take with us."

Not saying another word, Montana quickly walked Dan away, taking deep breaths as he supported him. There was the sound of something cutting through the air, like a propeller spinning, before a blunt object collided with the side of Dan's face. He went out cold.

"Fuck," Montana shuddered, realising that whoever that man was, he was still here somewhere. Dropping Dan, he made a run for it. The sound of whooshing came again and Montana shut his eyes tight, bracing himself, but instead felt air rush past the back of his head. He got lucky.

Looking back towards the car park, he could see the police arriving at the scene, weapons raised. The voices of the officers could be heard, but what exactly they were saying was indistinguishable. Ducking down, he saw them surround the Ox, barely clamping cuffs around his wrists. He wondered if he'd be able to make it to Dan.

Crawling across the ground, he grabbed both of Dan's hands with his own and quickly dragged his body back a few feet before resorting to carrying him in his arms. He staggered away a few blocks before finding their vehicle, laying Dan out in the back seat before quickly climbing into the driver's seat and speeding off, hoping whoever the hell that man was wouldn't be following them.

"C'mon, Pete, what happened?" Harry prodded as they walked up the steps to the main entrance of Midtown High, "I mean, you guys looked like you were doing fine to me!"

Peter sighed. He knew he couldn't tell Harry the truth; otherwise what would be the point in having a secret identity?

"I don't know, Harry," Peter shrugged, "I think we were just having trouble transitioning – you know, we were friends all our lives, and now there's this whole new sense of intimacy, I guess..."

"You and me, we're in the same boat here," Harry patted his friend on the shoulder as they squeezed past people in the packed hallway, "When Polly broke up – I mean, when me and Polly decided to call it quits, it really hurt. I mean, I guess we were in a slightly different situation to you two –"

Harry went quiet and he and Peter both froze, somewhat surprised to see Gwen waiting at their lockers.

"Pete," she stepped over, "Can we talk – alone?"

Peter glanced at Harry nervously before nodding. "Sure!"

Following Gwen, she led him down the corridors, finding a quieter spot by one of the fire exits.

"Look, Pete, I've been thinking a lot, about what you told me," Gwen softly said, "I get it. You've got a lot of weight on your shoulders, and I completely understand your decision to stop –"

"I've changed my mind," Peter interrupted. Gwen looked at him, confused. "I have these powers, Gwen, and I know I can do the world some good with them. It's my responsibility."

Gwen nodded. "Okay," she said, a little lost for words, "I just... I thought you told me it wasn't safe for you to be Spider-Man anymore?" she whispered, leaning in to make sure no one would hear.

"I know," Peter explained, "But Gwen, it's the right thing to do, you know? I can't let another person die, Gwen. Not again."

"Peter, it's a lot of weight for me, too!" Gwen's eyes began to water, "Knowing that you're going out there, putting yourself at risk..."

"Gwen, you don't need to worry about me," Peter placed a hand on her shoulder, gently reassuring her, "Trust me, I'm gonna be fine."

"How can I not worry about you?" Gwen shook her head, "I've known you since we were just kids! I've wanted to be with you for so long – I mean, I..."

She caught herself before she could finish the sentence before looking down, ashamed.

"What, Gwen?" Peter asked, taking her hand.

"Peter..." Gwen's voice broke, "I'm sorry."

She stroked his hand with her thumb, looking back up at him.

"Gwen, we can make this work," Peter begged, "I know it – like you said, we've been friends for all this time..."

"I just... I thought that you were serious about stopping, and now you're telling me you're gonna go back to it again... I need to rethink everything all over again."

Reluctantly, Peter let Gwen leave, watching her as she walked back into the crowded corridor.

These are the kind of sacrifices I have to make.

Waiting a few seconds, he followed Gwen, moving through the crowd to find Harry, who looked excited to see him.

"Hey, you both good?" he asked.

Peter simply shook his head in response. "No, she... she just needs some time to work things out, that's all."

"Aw, man," Harry sighed, smiling encouragingly, "Don't let it get you down, Pete. She'll come around."

"I hope so."

Montana and Dan sat in the back of an SUV, bags tied over their heads and binds tying their hands behind their backs.

"What the hell is this?" Montana demanded, "What's goin' on here?"

The car screeched to a halt. The front doors opened and closed before they heard their passenger doors swing open. Grabbed by the chest, Montana was flung out of the vehicle, banging his face onto the ground. He felt wind rush around him as he was placed onto his knees.

The binds around the bag loosened before it was forcefully removed. Montana looked around, recognising the East River. They were at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge. To his left, he found Dan in the same position as him. There was a hard, cold prod to the back of his head.

"Face forward!" a gunman commanded, holding the barrel of his weapon to the back of Montana's skull. He didn't dare risking looking to his side at Dan, not even as he heard the slow sounds of footsteps from behind him. He listened closely as they came around and looked up in front of him to see Hammerhead's ugly, scowling face.

The boss stood in front of the two, able to tower over them as they sat on their knees.

"You let me down, Jackson," Hammerhead sighed, "And you, Dan. Really let me fuckin' down."

"We weren't prepared for –"

"Shuddup!" Hammerhead shouted in Dan's face before standing back.

"You left Ox," he tutted, "An important asset to our team – I mean, are you fuckin' kiddin' me?!"

"We had no choice," Montana tried to explain, "I couldn't save him and Dan..."

Montana's words trailed off as Hammerhead chuckled.

"Raymond ain't gonna talk," Hammerhead spoke confidently, "I'm sure of that."

"So why are we here?" Dan blurted out, "What's all this for?!"

Hammerhead laid his eyes on Montana. "'Cause clearly, somethin' ain't clear with you boys. See, I thought you'd understand the concept of loyalty, after all the work we've done together."

The boss quickly grabbed Montana by the scruff of his shirt, holding him up off the floor

"I couldn't – boss, you gotta understand, there weren't anything I coulda done!"

Before Montana could get another word out, Hammerhead threw his head back before smashing it back down on Montana, who went quiet and limp. Dan's mouth dropped, shuddering as blood splattered onto him with each thick, meaty thud. The whole ordeal couldn't have lasted that long, but every time Hammerhead smashed his skull into Montana's felt like years passing.

At last, it was over. Hammerhead hollered as he dropped Montana to the ground in front of Dan. He immediately regretted looking down. Montana was unrecognisable. His head was bloodied, caved in to the point where there was almost nothing of it. Blood spilled out over the concrete.

He felt hands grab him by his collar and shut his eyes, anticipating what would come next.

"Listen here, you son of a bitch," Hammerhead grunted, "I just taught you a valuable lesson. Don't make the same mistakes this bastard did."

The bag was thrown back over his head and he was tossed into the back seat of the car. Dan sat shivering, unable to wipe the thought of Montana's disfigured head from his mind.

Time passed – Dan was unsure how long, exactly. He was too busy trying not to throw up for the whole car journey. The car came to a stop and Dan held his breath as he was thrown out of the vehicle. He felt the binds on his hands being cut and the bag was once again removed from his head. He looked up in horror at his own home, the very place his beloved wife and son lived. How did they know to come here?

Before he could ask any questions, the car drove off. Horrified, he walked up onto the porch and slowly opened the door.

The house was quiet, but the lights in the living room were on. Dan heard the sound of the leather on the sofa, as if someone had quickly got up. His wife emerged in the doorway of the room. At first, she looked furious, but the anger quickly changed to fear when she saw the spots of blood and tears running down Dan's face.

"What... happened?"

Unable to hold it back any longer, Dan threw the bathroom door open, rushed in and dropped to his knees. As he threw up into the toilet, his wife stood sobbing, head in her hands.

"What have you done this time?"

Gwen hardly spoke to Peter at all at school that day. While she had maintained that they'd still be friends, he could sense how uncomfortable she felt knowing Peter's secret. He reflected on everything while on the bus on the way home, how that if he kept his mouth shut they'd still be happy and together. He worried that he had betrayed her trust; not once, from concealing his identity from her for all that time, but twice, for leading her to believe that he wouldn't return to vigilantism.

Arriving home, Peter swung the door open to find a cardboard box underneath the coat hangers. The sticker on the parcel was addressed in his name.

Hopefully, these are the parts I need to build my web shooters. I can make a start tonight, but I'm not gonna be able to use them until the chemicals arrive to create the web fluid.

"Peter?" May called from the kitchen as Peter knelt down and lifted the box off the floor, "There's a parcel there for you!"

"Got it, May!" Peter confirmed, "Just some stuff for a science experiment, that's all!"

May smiled and tutted. That nephew of hers, always working on his little science projects.

Peter emptied the contents of the box onto his desk in his bedroom, excited to begin putting it together. He still had his design plans from the first web-shooters, meaning there would be no time wasted in that department. As he began organizing the parts, his phone screen lit up.

Gwen?

He picked up the phone quickly and read the notification, his heart dropping when he read not Gwen's name, but Kong's.

Kong? Weird.

Unsure why he'd be messaging him, Peter curiously opened the message.

Kong, 4:01pm: Sup Pete, parents are outta town this week, thinking of throwing a Halloween party. Don't worry about Flash or anyone, not invited. You in?

Peter, 4:03pm: Yeah, sounds good to me!

Kong, 4:07pm: Sick – remember to wear a costume. See ya Thursday night.

Peter put his phone down and leant back in his chair. This would be his first, proper party – he'd never been cool enough to be invited to one before. Now that Kong separated himself from Flash's crew, maybe he'd be attending them more often.

Daydreaming and distracting himself from working on the web-shooters, he wondered what the party might be like. If Kong was inviting Pete, then he had probably invited Harry as well; and who knows, maybe he'd invite Gwen? Maybe there, they'd finally be able to settle things between them – hopefully, in a way that they'd still be together?

And a costume – what could Peter wear? Just as the thought crossed Peter's mind, he got a text from Harry.

Harry, 4:12pm: Hey, you been invited to Kong's party?

Peter, 4:12pm: Yeah but I've got no idea what costume to wear?

Harry, 4:13pm: Bro we should get like, pairing costumes you know? Like Han and Chewbacca or something

Peter, 4:13pm: Well there's no way I'm going as Chewie

Harry, 4:13pm: Doc and Marty?

Harry, 4:14pm: Batman and Robin?

Harry, 4:14pm: Walt and Jesse?

Peter, 4:14pm: Perfect – and easy!

Immediately, the two found matching clothes for their costumes – the yellow hazard suits the fictional meth moguls wore while cooking, coupled with a pair of gas masks, set to arrive by Thursday night.

"I really hope that people get this," Harry worried.

"Sure they will," Peter smiled, "I mean, everyone at least knows what Breaking Bad is, right?"

"I don't," Aunt May said from the driver's seat, "Couldn't you have dressed up as something more well-known? The Beatles? Elvis Presley?"

"The Beatles isn't a bad idea, actually," Harry said approvingly, picturing the vibrant Sgt. Pepper costumes in his head.

"Everyone our age knows what Breaking Bad is," Peter jokingly corrected himself as the car pulled up at Kong's house. The outside was decorated with black and orange banners, as well as hand-made jack-o-lanterns.

"You boys have fun," May smiled, "Harry, are you sure you'll be able to give Peter a lift back to yours?"

"Don't worry about it, Aunt May," Harry assured her as they climbed out the car.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" Peter waved before May drove off. He turned to Harry. "What d'you mean, 'Aunt May'?"

"I don't know, it's what I always call her," Harry chuckled, "Just feels like she's everyone's Aunt May."

Climbing up the porch steps, Harry rang the doorbell before the two slid their gas masks over their face. The door opened a few seconds later, revealing Kong dressed from the head-down in a gorilla suit – King Kong.

"Welcome, guys," Kong smiled, opening the door further to let them in, "Nice costumes."

"Thanks," Harry smiled. Peter followed him in and looked around – the party was pretty lively, with music playing from a Bluetooth speaker in the hall. Loads of familiar faces from school were there, none of Flash's crew; Polly McKenna was stood with Jessica Jones, another arty student, at the bottom of the staircase, Polly dressed in a groovy, psychedelic, sixties-style outfit while Jessica was dressed as Snow White. Clayton Cole rushed over to them, dressed as Captain America.

"Harry, Peter!" Clayton welcomed them as they awkwardly brushed past Polly, "Didn't know you guys were invited!"

"Nice to see you, Clayton," Peter greeted him.

"Nice costumes," Clayton complimented, "Hey, why don't I show you guys over to some drinks, huh?"

Harry and Pete followed him into the kitchen, packed with some familiar and unfamiliar faces. Liz Allen was there, dressed as Eleven from Stranger Things wearing a white vest top and white pants, along with Sally Avril, fellow cheerleader and gymnast, dressed as a zombie with impressive, bloody make-up. Chatting with them was a girl with red hair. She was dressed like a vampire, with a red velvet cape and plastic, pointy teeth that fit into her mouth. Peter didn't recognise her.

"Over here," Clayton opened up the fridge and grabbed them two cans of beer.

"Thanks," Harry opened the can and gingerly took a sip, with the memory of the last time he indulged in drinking still fresh in his mind. Peter chuckled before cracking open his own drink.

The party went well and Peter was surprised to be enjoying himself, not thinking of himself as one for these kinds of events. He and Harry found themselves back in the kitchen a few hours later, joined by Kong, Liz, Polly and Jessica.

"Wait, so you were there at the Oscorp trip?" Jessica asked Peter, "That's funny, I don't really remember you."

"I got kind of sick," Peter explained, laughing nervously, "Funny, though – I don't think I saw you there either."

"I stuck with Cindy, she was the only girl I knew who went on the trip," Jessica shrugged.

The two kept chatting, first forming a bond over their shared interest in Breaking Bad when Jessica paid attention to Peter and Harry's outfits, while Kong and Liz flirted with one another and Harry surprisingly rekindled his flame with Polly. Realising the situation the other two couples were in, Peter was unsure about how far he wanted to take this or what Jess' expectations were – he still felt strongly about Gwen, and he didn't want to betray her trust any more than he already had.

The three had their conversations interrupted by the arrival of an unexpected party – Flash Thompson, dressed like Rambo, along with Jason Ionello and Seymour O'Reilly.

"Flash," Kong approached, infuriated, "I sure as hell didn't invite you here."

"Sally invited me," Jason smirked, "And I thought it wouldn't do harm to bring the boys along, too."

"I don't want you here," Kong grunted.

"I'm not interested in Liz, man," Flash said mockingly, "I'm just here for a good time, that's all."

"Hey, you heard him, Flash," Harry stood up for Kong, "He doesn't want you here. You've gotta go."

"Since when did you become boyfriends with Osborn Jr., huh?" Flash taunted Kong as the two ex-friends stood face-to-face, "What's wrong with you, Parker? Not up for another round?"

"I'm not wasting my time on you anymore, Flash," Peter clenched his fists.

Flash tried to take a step forward, only to be pushed back by Kong. "I ain't tellin' you again, Flash. Get out of my house."

Flash looked at Kong before glancing around the room. "Fine, there are better parties to crash, anyway. You've gone a real loser, Kong, you know that?"

Kong didn't take Flash's bait, standing with his arms crossed as he watched Flash and his cronies leave while Jason urged Sally to come with them.

"I don't know, Jason, I'm kind of enjoying it here..."

"C'mon, Sally, the place is full of nerds. Come with us."

"Fine, then."

Recovering from the brief drama, the party raged on. Someone bought pot and now the back porch stunk of it. Harry winked at Pete as he followed Polly upstairs.

"So, you and Gwen are a thing, right?" Jess asked, "I saw you both at prom."

"Well," Peter thought of how to answer, "We were, but I don't know. It's complicated. I don't think we are anymore."

"Aw, that's a shame," she apologized, "You seemed like a nice couple. And you're a really great guy and all."

"Yeah... thanks," Peter smiled, feeling the effects of intoxication.

Clayton came in through the kitchen door. "Hey, Jess, your dad's waiting for you outside."

"Okay," Jess sighed, disappointed to be leaving, "It was very nice talking to you, Peter Parker."

"See you around, Jess Jones," Peter chuckled, waving her goodbye as she left. He stood alone in the kitchen; Harry was occupied upstairs, he wasn't entirely sure where Kong and Liz were. As he drank by himself, the red-head he had trouble recognising from earlier came in.

"Hey," she smiled before putting her hands on him, "Can I get to the fridge?"

Peter realised he was blocking the fridge door. "Oh, yeah, of course!" he chuckled nervously before leaning against the counter and letting her find a drink.

"You must go to Midtown, right?" she asked, her long red hair flowing down as she searched the fridge, "I don't think I know you."

"Right, yeah," Peter nodded, "I'm Peter, Peter Parker, I go to Midtown High."

"Right," the girl laughed, standing up and closing the door, drink in hand, "I figured. I'm Mary Jane, but it's probably easier if you just call me M.J."

"Cool," Peter smiled. Vampire make-up aside, she looked quite charming.

"Are you on your own?" she asked, concerned, "Do you know anyone here?"

"Uh, not really," Peter shrugged, "My best friend went upstairs a little while ago."

"Well, you can join me, if you like," M.J. encouraged.

"Uh, yeah, for sure!" Peter agreed, surprised that he'd talked to two girls in one night. Not bad, Parker.

He joined this complete stranger, sitting in a group with some familiar faces – this is where Kong and Liz had been, along with some of the art crowd, already in conversations with each other, leaving the newly-acquainted Peter and Mary Jane to talk. Peter was surprised at how easily he got on with her, though the conversation was cut short by a tap on the shoulder. He turned around to see Harry, standing over him with a smug look on his face.

"Hey, sorry to steal you, man, but my driver's gonna be here any minute," Harry helped Peter to his feet.

"Nice meeting you," Peter waved to M.J. before saying goodbye to the rest of the group. He walked with Harry out onto the front porch.

"Get lucky?" Peter teased.

"I didn't fumble it this time," Harry elbowed him, "But I won't say more than that. 'A gentleman never tells', that's the saying, right?"

"Something like that," Peter grinned.

"Hey, speaking of getting lucky," Harry put his arm around Peter's shoulder, "Chatting up two girls in one night?"

"I wouldn't say it like that," said Peter disapprovingly, used to Harry's teasing about girls, "I'm not looking to move on from Gwen just yet, you know, I've still got hope."

"Right, brother, I understand," Harry nodded, "Anyway, whatever happens with Gwen, they seemed pretty into you."

Peter sighed sceptically as Harry's driver pulled up. While he had been busy partying tonight, the web shooters were well on their way and the box of chemicals required for the web fluid arrived after he got home from school that day. If all bodes well, tomorrow night Spider-Man would make his grand return and teach that crime boss a lesson.

Author's Note: Sorry this one took so long to come out, some stuff has been happening that really made me unmotivated to write but now I'm getting back into it again. Enjoy and leave a review!