Chapter 5

"Give me the goods!"

"I told you like a billion times, man, we don't have it!"

"Don't lie to my face! Do you see this gun, huh? You see it? You tell me where it is if you know what's good for you?!"

"Please don't hurt us. Please, please don't hurt us," the lady employee trembled as she pleaded.

"If you don't want a bullet in your head, you better get what me and my boys want."

"Err," the clerk voiced out, "I'm sorry, but what boys?"

"Are you blind, huh? Are you making fun of me? I'm talking about my boys right here–" he turned and found the encompassing dining hall empty of his friends. He briefly thought they chickened out, but then there was an odd squirming sound from somewhere, and it took some weird compulsion inside for him to look up. When he did, his jaw dropped at the sight of the bound three men sticking on the ceiling.

"Excuse me." Someone poked his shoulder from behind. He turned, gun raised, but I plucked it out of his hand before he so much as pulled the trigger and deftly crushed it like a can of soda. "Not cool, dude. This is no way to order fast food."

"Who the hell are you?" He didn't wait for my answer as he swung a punch at me, which I easily caught.

"I mean, I know lines can be a drag." I shot a line at a chair behind. "But I think you need to sit down." Pulled the chair, forcibly sitting the man down. "And chill." Then webbing his arms and feet in place.

"What? What?! " He looked down at his tied arms and tried to forcibly rip it out but to no avail. "What the hell is this gunk?'

"Excuse you, this gunk is a scientific novelty that took all my heart and soul to make. Don't you diss on them."

"I don't care, get me out of this thing!"

"Hmm," I pretend to contemplate his demand, "I might... after you apologize for trying to steal money earned by these nice, hardworking people you rudely threatened."

"What?" I was prepared for the usual slight or refusal, but not what he said next: "Why would I want to steal some stupid money, man? I want my chicken sandwich."

There was a brief moment where my brain had a long time processing his words, and a little T-Rex threatened to pop out in my head, telling me there's no connection. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard, did you say you broke in and threatened a fast food joint… to demand fast food?"

"Yeah, man," he said like I was the dumb one.

"Can't… can't you just buy one?"

"Dude, where have you been? Don't you know their new chicken sandwiches? It's been on the rage. We've been trying to buy one for weeks, but they're always 'sold out'" His hand was tight, yet I could tell his effort to air quote.

"But it is sold out!" The clerk said.

"Don't lie to me, man! You guys are hogging all the sandwiches for yourself and selling them to the wealthy. My boys and I will not stand for this oppression! You can hide from us all you want, but we have a right for our sandwiches."

I waited very patiently for the punchline, but the guy was deadly serious. A massive headache was hitting me like a sled-hammer that has nothing to do with my Spidey-Sense.

"Alright, I heard enough." I webbed his mouth shut before anything more he said could lower the collective IQ in this room. I turned to the employees and asked them, "Are you guys okay?"

The single girl in the group began to burst out into an uncontrollable cry. While I had my fair share of dealing with crying victims, I never stopped flailing my way to keep her calm.

"Don't worry," the clerk said, way too calmly if you ask me, "This is Gina's first armed robbery, she'll get used to this."

That only made her cry harder.

"Err… should I be worried?"

"Nah, man," said the third gangly employee, "One time, I had to serve a drive-thru meal for a getaway car, he had his gun trained on me and everything. It was wicked."

"And you all still work here…. Why?"

"Money." The three of them answered.

I nodded dumbly, agreeing there weren't any other sensible answers. "Well, I gotta go. Call the police straight away, my webs would only last for an hour." I began walking out, leaving them for the authorities to handle, but then I heard my name being called out.

"Wait!" I turned, not at all expecting the teared-face lady to run out for me. "Sorry, sorry, I, I wanted, needed to say thank you. I couldn't imagine what might happen if you…. you…." Tears welled up in her eyes before she bawled out once more.

I shushed her gently, "Hey, hey, it's okay. It's over now. You're safe." I was surprised by the act, but softly reminded the girl she was okay while rubbing her back in circle.

"I'm, I'm sorry," she hiccuped, "It's just, they had guns, and they were waving it at us, and, and… I just want to say thank you, Spider-Man."

I blushed behind my mask and tried to wave them off like it's nothing. My body jittering from the compliment. Most of the people I saved either ran, screamed, and broke down crying. But the few who stayed? The few who gave their thanks? It was so rarely presented that I always feel like I don't deserve it.

"Aaw, it's nothing."

"But it's not, so I thought you deserve this for today." She pulled open her handbag that she brought, and then showed me a bag of wrapped burger inside. It didn't take me long for me to connect the dots. "While their 'conspiracy' is over-exaggerated, the employees here do get to first come first serve. This is my share, take it."

"Oh, no, you don't have to."

"I insist." She practically shoved, what I expect, the infamous fast food to me. "So this is the sought-after chicken sandwich," I said, dubiously, as I unwrapped it and found a totally normal-looking sandwich.

The lady-employee, who I read the nametag was Gina, shot me an almost pitiable look. "Bless you, you still haven't known the miracle of our chicken."

Okay, now she's just exaggerating, "Come on, Gina." I pulled up my mask, ready to take the first bite. "It's a chicken sandwich, just how good do you think it'll-"

But then I took the first bite, all I knew afterward was the taste of juicy bliss filling my mouth, and I swear I heard Beethoven coming down from the heavens and playing Ode to Joy.

. . .

"Peter, hurry up, or you're going to be late!"

"Be right down, Aunt May!" I took double steps down the stairs and nervously showed her the tux I'm wearing.

She scrutinized me, looking up and down before tutting at me, "Your tie is a disaster."

I looked down at myself and frowned, "What, really? I could have sworn I followed the Youtube video to the letter."

She tusked playfully before beginning to fix my tie with deftly practiced hands. Once done, she smoothed down the wrinkles of my blazer. "You look just like Ben when he was your age," she said as May looked down at me from a distance.

Noticing her glassy eyes, my own eyes turned teary and promptly pulled her into a hug. "I miss him too, Aunt May."

I knew May kept her hug tied so I wouldn't see her breaking down. "He'd love to see you like this. Ben has always known the man you would grow into. A smart, capable young man filled with kindness." I healed a little tightly to brace myself from the feels and basked in her warmth. May let go once she gained her bearing. "Right, let's take you to that girl of yours!"

My face turned red as my mask, "She's, she's not my girl. I mean, I hope she is but, but I haven't asked her out, officially, that is."

"I'm sure she'd be lucky to have you such a nice man like you taking you out, Peter."

Aunt May drove me to Gwen's apartment, and I asked her, "May, hypothetically speaking, if you have a secret. A really big secret that you're hiding from someone you really, really like, and I want to tell her… or him! I mean her, I mean…"

"Calm down, Peter. This is all 'hypothetical, right?"

I nodded too fast and too vigorous even though a voice in my head told me I only looked all the more suspicious that way.

May smiled indulgently all the same and put a hand on my shoulder, rubbing her thumb in circle, and the calm instantly washed over me. "So hypothetically speaking, I would think you need to trust her not to tell anyone first. Just because you… I mean… 'you' like her doesn't mean she can keep a secret. But if you trust her, then I say there's no problem sharing… unless it's a problem?"

"No, no, not a problem. Not at all. Just… I don't want to make things weird between us."

"If she's as nice as you describe her, then she would accept you no matter what." I considered her words even as I couldn't stop biting my lips in worry, not when May had no idea what secret I was talking about. "Remember, any relationship-even friendship will break if it's based on lies, so if you can't tell her the truth, at least be truthful of your feelings and your situation to her."

I nodded, "Right, thanks, Aunt May."

"Why should you, it's all hypothetical, isn't it?" She winked at me before turning back to the road.

Once we arrived, there was a moment I froze up by the entrance while being glared by this scary-looking doorman, and you know it takes a lot to scare me when I beat up crooks for a living. Eventually, he let me in once he knew the Stacys were waiting for me. If that hadn't been nerve-wracking, having the door opened by none other than George Stacy. And if the doorman's eyes were scary, it was nothing when glared at by one of the Captains of New York's Finest.

When I asked out Gwen, I apparently did not think things through.

"You must be Peter," he began.

"Yes, Peter, Peter Parker," I gulped and took his offered hand, giving a firm shake, "Nice to meet you, Sir."

He crossed his trained muscles that seemed to make them bulge, shoulder set wide, and his deep crinkle set - of what I swore - of his cop eyes were trained down onto me. And it's like looking at a predator where you can't walk away less he'll pounce on you. "Tell me, Peter, what are your intentions for my daughter?" His voice became octave lower, and his glare became more intense, I didn't know why but the wrinkles somehow became prominent as if showing the years in the force that etched on his face.

The lighthearted laughter broke our face-off, "Oh my gosh, DAD! That is such a cliche line, what century are you even in?"

The grimmy look of his melted away as the icy tension we had, replaced by the soft laughter that put a more cheerful crinkle on his face, making him years younger "What? Was that too much? I'm pretty sure it's tradition for the dad to scare off any boys my baby girl brings."

I couldn't help the broken laughter that came out from the intense relief I felt.

"At least you didn't go and threatened him with your gun." Gwen went out of her room, and she wore a knee-length white dress that basically makes her an angel. "I would have slapped you for that."

"Fair enough, anyway, once again, great to finally meet you, Peter. Gwen talks a lot about you." His smile turned sly as he turned to his daughter, "Been curious what type of person special enough to make my girl excited all night."

"DAD!"

George Stacy boomed a heavy laughter, "I'm just messing with you, kiddo. Come on, let me take a picture of the two of you. Otherwise, your mum would give me an earful."

I walked next to Gwen and gave her the white corsage. The smile she had then could rival the sun, and I was sure my smile couldn't have been that different.

"Kids, if you're done making googly-eyes at one another." Mr. Stacy's tone was stern, but there was no hiding the mirth in his eyes.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." We stood side by side for the shoot, and I wasn't sure whether it was okay or not to put my hand around her waist because is that okay? I don't know if that's okay? You know what, let's not touch her in any way until I actually ask, especially in front of her dad.

Before I knew it, he took the photo, and we were then off to the prom. Mr. Stacy kindly offered to drive us using one of their unmarked police cars the Captain still had on hand, and though it didn't look the part, it was still cool to be inside an actual police car. Gwen just looked embarrassed in being taken in one, much to her dad's delight.

"So, Peter," Mr. Stacy started tapping his steering wheel, "Hope you don't mind me asking what your plans are in the future?"

"Really, Dad? That's the first thing you wanted to start grilling him?" Gwen couldn't seem to decide to glare or roll her eyes at him.

"Hey, I'm just making small talk. Time can pass by awfully fast, so it's never too early to plan your future. Even Gwen's been planning to be a prominent geneticist. Has been setting her eyes on either Oscorp or Horizon." There was a proud smile in his tone that I couldn't imagine even without the car mirror.

"Well, Sir, I'm hoping for the same thing. I haven't made up my mind where I want to work. I mean, most of them have their perks, and they all have cool scientists working for them."

"Peter," Gwen giggled, "You make it sound like you're trying to choose which one has your favorite celebrity that you want to work with."

Mr. Stacy chuckled, "No worries, Peter. There are worse reasons to join a sought-out company. Though, I shouldn't be surprised my daughter would go out with someone who actually can keep up with her brain."

Gwen blushed, then she had a teasing grin aimed at her father, "You were wishing for a fellow future officer, weren't you? Hoping for more recruits in your effort for a Spider-Man Crusade."

My heart practically jumped at the mention of the name and tried very hard to keep myself cool, "Spi, Spider-Man? What about him?"

Not realizing the sudden panic that threatened to break out in me, Mr. Stacy answered, "Oh, it's not much, my precinct has been trying to build a case for him to be put on the wanted person list,"

"Why? What has he done? I thought he's a good guy?"

"That's where the media misunderstood. That man is not only an amateur but reckless, clumsy, and doesn't know half of what he's doing. At the rate he's going, he'll start injuring himself as well as civilians. Heck, he's already assaulted an officer."

"You mean being harmlessly webbed in the face that eventually dissolves in an hour?" Gwen calmly pointed out a rebuttal, "You know you can't technically arrest someone unless there's a law against webbing someone that I haven't heard about."

"He does if he disturbed a police investigation."

"And the boot got webbed because he tried shooting an unarmed man. I think Spider-Man saved that rookie's job."

"Urgh, this is what I get for having a brilliant daughter. She knows how to make a point." Mr. Stacy tried to keep the air light, but my ears barely heard him from the loud drumming at the back of my head. "It still impedes the officer's performance on duty. And even if it's harmless, it doesn't change the fact that Spider-Man is dangerous," Mr. Stacy insisted.

"But, but why?" I asked, genuinely confused for being seen in the wrong. I can understand from civilians' point of view who might be scared from the adrenaline and the sudden appearance of a masked vigilante in the dead of night, but surely there's no law against helping people. "From what I've seen, I say most people would say Spider-Man is trying to do the right thing."

Mr. Stacy scoffed, "The right thing? If he's trying to do the right thing, he should have called the authorities instead of seeking trouble and taking the law into his own hands. We could already arrest him for alleged assaults and property damages."

"But technically, even if you arrest Spider-Man. He still has the Good Samaritan Law on his side to defend himself in court. Not to mention, the city nor the crooks haven't pressed any charges to him." Gwen sing-song, smirking at the frustrated sight of her father. As if this is an age-old conversation they like to raise on the dinner table.

"Oof, Gwendolyn, you're hurting your old man here, my own daughter against me. I'm glad you're trying to be a scientist instead of a lawyer."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't be dramatic, Dad. I'm just stating the fact that Spider-Man hasn't broken any serious laws for you to treat him like a felon."

" Yet . He hasn't broken any laws yet. But mark my words one of these days, he will. And he can't skirt around forever."

"You can't know that," I said, my voice a bit heated, "No one can know whether he'll break the law or not."

"All I'm saying is that he already screws up our plan to bust a major chop-shop operation that's been stealing cars in Queens. If not for this Spider-Man, who caught us the only lead we had."

"Well, obviously, he didn't know you had a plan."

The car stopped at a red light, and Mr. Stacy dared to turn to face me, "You know, you sound oddly defensive for this Spider-Guy, do you know something we don't?"

"No!" I vehemently denied, "I'm just saying from what I've witnessed on the internet, we should give him the benefit of the doubt."

Mr. Stacy scoffed, "I'm sure the internet is making him out to be some kind of masked hero. You know, if he's trying to be a hero, he should be trying to earn a badge, standing on the side of law and order, rather than gaining street cred from his mask."

Wow, OK Boomer to you too, Mr. Stacy. "From what I'm hearing, you just don't like him wearing a mask despite helping people, and there's no law against that. I don't think you like the idea of him trying to do what the police can't."

"What the police can't- what do you think the police can't do?! You think that we're sitting on our desks and eating donuts all the time? You think he can do better than us?"

"I think he stands what you stand for, Sir." I tried reigning the conversation into a much calmer ground, "Protecting innocent people, and it's something I wished my uncle had before he was gunned down in my own home."

The conversation stopped cold with my words, and I had to bite my tongue before I made things worse for myself. Oh, God, why can't I keep my mouth shut for once?! I'm practically picking a fight with Gwen's father. She's going to hate me now.

Static came from the radio, and the voice of the operator broke the brief silence.

[ Calling all available units, there's a hostage situation at the Foundry on 9th Street. Suspect is considered armed and dangerous. Requesting back-up and airship. Code three.]

Mr. Stacy didn't even hesitate before he pulled out his radio and answered, "This is Seven-Adam-Fifteen. Ten-Four. Responding."

Gwen began shuffling, uneased, "Dad…" There was an argument ready, at the tip of our tongue, I could always tell from the tone of hers, but her dad cut her off.

"Here we are, at the end of the line."

I almost jumped when the car stopped, never realizing we had been close to our destination. The car ride felt shorter than it was supposed to.

I gave a short quick thank you and practically fled from how fast I got out of the car. Gwen followed suit, and Mr. Stacy rolled down the window, so she could give him a quick kiss goodbye.

Not wanting to leave our conversation end with a wrong note, I gathered my Spidey-courage and cleared my throat, "Sir, I apologize, I don't mean to bring disrespect after you kindly gave us a ride."

"Peter, listen," Mr. Stacy started, he paused for a bit, giving out a tired sigh before continuing, "I didn't say this before, but I'm sorry about your uncle. I stand by what I said about Spider-Man, but I should have considered your point of view without being so dismissive. Sometimes people just need a hero, even from the unlikeliest place. I shouldn't begrudge you for hoping that.

"Anyway, putting aside everything said, I want you, kids, to have a good time. Be back no less than 11 p.m. sharp, or I'll know who I'm going to arrest next."

"Yes, Sir." I gave a mock salute.

Mr. Stacy turned on his police siren and went off to the scene of the crime. The grin I had fallen as I gazed back at the retreating car, my hand itch from wanting to shoot my web and follow him to the scene.

' Calling all available units..'

But then I turned to Gwen and jumped a bit when her sapphire eyes were drilling my head.

"What?"

"Nothing, just… I didn't expect you to be so… controversial tonight."

Eyes widened, it dawned on me what I did in the car, "Oh shit, Gwen, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean, I mean, I sort of mean, but that was still no way for me to act–"

"Peter, it's fine." Gwen put a placating arm on my shoulder, "I've had a worse conversation with my dad, and I can see it was important to you."

She took the crook of my elbow into my arm and started moving toward the gym, following the flow of the rest of the students. "Yeah, you can say that I have a personal investment in the guy."

"Yeah, no duh. Usually, unless you're talking about science, you would kind of stutter on the spot."

"Oh, come on, Gwen."

"Hey, I'm just telling it as it is. I think you're cute when you do that.

' ...hostage situation…'

We were by the entrance to the gym, the soft beat of music drumming mixed with excited laughter, but we both didn't get any closer. Too busy hearing what the other might say before our voices get drowned out.

"Then what about you, Gwen? Back then in the car, you, you seem to be defending Spider-Man."

She hummed in thought as Gwen considered her answer, "I suppose, I am. I'm all for being a superhero and doing good deeds. But, I also understand why Dad is so against him."

"Why is your Dad against him?"

"Wow, how to answer that." She laughed nervously. Any other day she might have pulled her hair if not for how she perfectly curled for this day. "I don't know if I can explain it well, but… try thinking guns. Between a gun on a random person and a gun in a cop's hand, which one are you reassured more?"

I wanted to immediately say "Cops" when it hit me what she's trying to get.

"See? Spider-Man is obviously not a regular human for being able to make webs and lift cars if my dad's sources are right. So in a way, he is the gun. But unlike firearms, we can't take it away, and we couldn't, like, make him a… I don't know... certified vigilante with the way he operates. We don't even know if he's trained or not with those abilities.

"But I do agree with how he tries to help people with those powers. I think it's admirable of him. But just because I support his actions doesn't mean I trust him. That takes time. Like they said, you can't build Rome in one day.

"But enough about our Friendly Neighborhood Hero, it's Homecoming Prom, so let's have fun."

'...on 9th street...'

The gym was almost unrecognizable from all the balloon arcs, colored lights, and other decors you expect in a prom. The blast of heat came in waves from the mass people already dancing their way through the night. Smell the sweat and the sweet punch in the air. Post Malone's Better Now was blasting through speakers alongside the cheer of the crowd and had my heart beating through its beat.

Gwen squealed, "I love this song!" Before I realized it, she had me pulled to the dancing floor, even though I'm a terrible dancer. But I'm a sucker anyway, I wouldn't have been able to say no to her. Especially if it keeps her smiling.

' ...requesting back-up…'

So what does it say about me that she wasn't the first in my mind tonight? I had to force myself to keep on smiling; otherwise, it would fall and give her a bad impression. That the music we coincidentally both love only seemed to be background sound in my ear, instead the sound of the radio had gone in my head, over and over.

' God, Peter! This is one night with the girl of your dreams, you can do this.'

The song shifted to a slow song, one of Lady Gaga's from that one movie she starred. We began dancing side by side, my hands nervously on her waist while she had hers around my neck. She was close, so close for me to appreciate the gleeful smile she had and twinkling blue eyes while locking with my own brown ones. There should be no reason for me not to be in cloud nine.

But maybe that's why she knew there was something on my mind, "What's wrong?"

I tried brushing her off as nothing, but Gwen raised an eyebrow, silently telling me I'm not fooling her.

"Just… thinking about your dad and being part of that response team."

"Yeah," she breathed out, "It's a bit intense, having a cop as your dad."

"How do you cope with it?" I suddenly felt curious, "Whenever your dad is out, doing his duty, how are you not worried sick with him risking his life on the field."

"That's a left-field question," chuckled Gwen, "But let's see… since being a Captain, he doesn't go out much on the field than necessary, but it never gets easier knowing he's out fighting the good fight. No, scratch that, I'm terrified every time I hear him going out. I honestly can't imagine a life without my dad, ever since my mom and he divorce... it's always been the two of us. But I guess... I coped by trusting he'll always do his best to come back home."

I was overtaken by a memory of that night. Uncle Ben laying on the floor. The smell of metal that was flooding the wooden floor. The contorted pain of the old man's face for every breath he took until his last. The whisper of my name as he held on to my hand like I was his lifeline as his own felt it was freezing up by the second.

And just as suddenly, I wasn't holding Uncle Ben.

I was holding Mr. Stacy.

" Peter…. Peter…. Peter!"

I snapped out of my thoughts from Gwen's voice, I failed to notice Gwen shaking me. She grew overly concerned. I wondered what made her so until I saw myself in her eyes. My own pair were blown wide open like I was deer caught in a headlight, my face paler than usual, and my lips parted from breathing irregularly, something that Gwen must be hearing from how close she was.

"Peter, what's wrong?"

There were a thousand answers I could give her, but in the end, I made my decision. "I have to go."

"What?" She let go of her arms around me as I let go of hers. We were the only two kids who stopped dancing on the dance floor.

"I'm sorry," I took a step back, "You… you're amazing, Gwen, and you deserve better."

"Peter, you're not making any sense, what's going on? You can tell me."

Every step I took away from her became more painful, my feet taking me to the gym's entrance from the school, my eyes never leaving her crystal blue ones, "I wish I could stay. Tonight has been the best, but I… I can't. I swear I'll make it up to you. I'm so, so sorry."

Finally, putting the effort, I turned my back on her and ran. I ran and didn't look back. Not even as Harry called out to me. I kept running and running, changing, leaping, swinging, and swinging until I propped into a random roof.

"Okay, Peter, okay." I pulled out my phone and happily used my app to listen to the police's radio. "Let's see where the boys in blue have to say. Surely nothing big is happening."

I was wrong, I was terribly, terribly wrong.

I barely had the app calibrated before there was a flurry of frantic voices, requesting backups, bomb squad, and SWAT-

Wait.

They asked a what squad?!

MiniDP: Oh yes, the pain. Feel the pain, Peter. Your struggle is only just getting started.

Me: What is wrong with you?!