The alcohol stung as I disinfected my hand, a sharp pain that was distracting. Keeping me distracted from all the goings on of the day. It was almost meditivate to fix it all up. Mum and Dad weren't home so I was alone with my thoughts, a blessing and a curse.

As soon as I had made that deal with Fisk, I knew I would regret it. In fact, I already regretted it barely an hour later. But I didn't know how else to keep Mom and Dad safe. Not with the threats I was facing. Not when I had no allies except my enemy.

But what if I died on Monday? What then? What would happen to Mom and Dad then? Would he live up to his promise and protect them? Of course not, it was Fisk. The least I could hope for was him to leave them alone.

But I still hadn't told either of them what was happening. If a threat came barreling down our door, they would have no warning. If they got hurt then, it would be all my fault.

Everything was becoming my fault. The what ifs swirling like a restless cloud.

What if. What if I had gotten free before they could have unmasked me? What if I had struggled harder? Held my breath longer? Dodged better and prevented my shoulder and now my hand from getting hurt? What if I ignored what Owl was doing? What if Owl attacked Mum and Dad? What if Fisk did? What if any number of other villains did?

Yet I couldn't. I couldn't tell them. No way. They would try to stop me from being Spider-Man and not only would it end badly for us, but it would end badly for the whole of New York. No one there to protect them from guys like Owl. Or Alchemax, who were experimenting on real life human beings.

Just as I finished the last of the wrapping, ready to pack everything away and attempt some studying, a text came through.

Gwen: Hey Miles, how are you doing?

Huh. Gwen. Why was she texting me? Maybe she had a question about some schoolwork? I hoped it was.

Miles: Fine. Why?

I folded my legs and leaned back against the toilet seat - my temporary seat while I had been fixing myself up.

Gwen: I saw that video of that skeleton guy stabbing you

Gwen: That looked like it really hurt dude

That's right, there were videos of what had happened. Meaning if either Mom or Dad searched me up, they could find out how I was hurt. But I couldn't stop being Spider-Man, not days out from Kravinoff. Not when I had so much to do before then.

Miles: It's fine, I heal fast. It'll be all good in a couple of days

Gwen: Still! How did your parents react?

I scowled.

Miles: They don't know

Gwen: What do you mean they don't know?

I wish this Gwen was her spider counterpart. Spider-Gwen would have understood. She would know how hard it was to try and tell parents anything about this double life. In a striking moment, I missed her. But I waved it away, I had more important things to worry about.

It felt like I always had something more important to worry about.

Miles: Dad got shot. They've got more to worry about than me

Gwen: BS. You're hiding it from them aren't you?

Miles: They can look it up and find out themselves. In the meantime I have bigger things to worry about

Gwen: Miles…

Miles: What?

Gwen: Just because you're Spider-Man doesn't mean you should neglect yourself

Read 10:47pm

I didn't bother to reply. What did she know? I left the bathroom in a huff, the medkit packed away for another day.

The chains from when I was kidnapped and the blueprint for the belt, both from my trip to Alchemax, had been sitting in my room for days just waiting for me to sit down and figure them out. Or in other words, the perfect distraction from Gwen, from Fisk, from the crushing guilt of knowing Dad got shot because of me…

Dad was fine, I finally learned when they came home from the hospital. Painkillers galore, but his foot was stitched and cast. He wouldn't be able to work for six to eight weeks either, and even then it would only be office work until his leg is strong again.

I hadn't told them it was my fault. I didn't want to see the disappointment, the anger in their eyes. They would say they didn't blame it on me, but they would. Spider-Man had brought trouble with it, and we didn't talk about that. It was the elephant in the room whenever the topic came up.

But I couldn't stop, I had to protect people. That was the whole deal, right?

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the clouding thoughts. I needed something to keep my thoughts from straying too far, and figuring out these treasure would be the perfect task. And one I needed to get done anyway.

I didn't know what the blueprint would let the user do. That I had to know, it might be useful. And maybe it wasn't important in the grand scheme of things because of the now overwhelming amount of things going on, but I had to know how they had messed with my spider-sense - maybe it had something to do with the chains, even though I had a strong suspicion it was something else.

I cleared a space on my bed and laid everything on it. First, the mysterious belt. I grabbed my phone and used the flashlight to skim read behind the inked out portions of the blueprint.

What I found was more of a sales pitch than actual specific instructions for how it worked.

This device emits a gas that will mold your features to your liking! From presidents to the person next to you, you will switch in a moment and look just like them! With a microcomputer inside this belt, it can be programmed to remember the facial features of hundreds of people! For even easier convenience, a video receiver in this nifty belt will enable the computer to analyze the appearance of anyone you encounter and duplicate their features using electrical impulses. This computer can utilise high tech holographic technology that can change your appearance at just the press of a button! No more hours spent endlessly applying makeup, this device does it for you.

On top of that, if you want to go undercover this device can make you appear as two different people to two separate observers simultaneously! Sleuthing will be a breeze!

I put it back down. So this is what Chameleon used! I glanced out at the small light still on in Mum and Dad's room. It's too late to disturb them now, I'll give Dad this stuff in the morning so he can give it to the police working on the robbery case. They could handle it from there.

It was both simulationaly tiring and rewarding to find out that everything happening was so closely connected. The goon with my powers, Owl, skeleton guy and now the Chameleon… they were all under OWL or Alchemax. If I take down OWL, the threat falls away. In theory.

Except for Fisk. Fisk was his own separate threat. And ally.

I rubbed my eyes, don't think about that. There's work to be done.

If I can take down the human experimentation labs and figure out where Leland is hiding, I can dismantle this whole operation. Alchemax felt like a beast on its own, but I could figure it out later. Talk to some people, gain some knowledge, go from there.

With that settled, I turned to the chains.

Now, I am no scientist, but they looked like steel to me. They were pretty thick, no surprise there. Thick enough that even at the time of kidnapping they had looked comical against my thin wrist. Even more the longer I had been trapped there and my muscles began to waste away.

I did the bend test again, and just like when I was in Alchemax. It bent like a paperclip. It was so easy, it felt frustrating that I hadn't just grabbed at it and pulled while I had been in there. I should have tried harder, gotten more creative, but I had felt one spike from my spider-sense and given up.

I looked at it from every angle, yeah, normal metal the whole way round. Nothing suspicious or out of place.

If I could go back in time, I would have just pulled. Damn the consequences. Nothing could be worse then everything that's happened since - teaming up with Fisk being the most awful part of this all.

I gathered everything up, putting the metal in a random drawer and the belt blueprints on my desk. There was nothing more I could do tonight, but tomorrow I would start hunting down Owlsley like the plague.

By morning, the wound had finally stitched the muscles together so there wasn't a hole in my hand. Unfortunately, it was still raw and gross to look at - there was no way I could get away with it just visible for all the world to see. Putting my hand in my pocket had worked last night, when I was only around them for dinner before heading off to bed, but it might start getting suspicious.

So, before Mum or Dad woke up, I snuck into the bathroom and borrowed some of the concealer in the makeup bag. After slapping a bandaid over both the entry and exit holes, I covered it up with dark concealer. It wasn't perfect, but as long as they didn't look too close I would be fine.

With that sorted, I put my Spider-Man suit and my uniform on, had some breakfast and by that point they were both shuffling into the kitchen. Or, in Dad's case, hobbling. His leg up to his shin was covered in a cast, and he had crutches to help him get around. It looked awkward for him, but he did it with no complaints.

"Hey kiddo, won't be able to drive you to school for a while. Hope you're ok with walking," Dad said, ruffling my hair as he sat down.

I swallowed the guilt threatening to bubble up. Dad's foot was my fault and he didn't even know it. If he did… they would be so disappointed in me. They wouldn't say it, of course they wouldn't, but the look in their eyes would be enough to crush me.

And that was only the tip of the iceberg of lies.

"Yeah, you can't embarrass me in front of the school either," I joked weakly, moving the cereal around my bowl. All of a sudden, I wasn't that hungry.

His eyes softened, maybe noticing the change, but instead of commenting on it he gently pat me on the back. "You'll do great today. But try not to make skipping school a regular thing, yeah?"

"Not my fault you guys didn't pick up the phone," I mumbled. Luckily he didn't hear me, because he finished getting his own bowl of cereal together and sat down with me.

Mom came in like a crashing wave. She hurried into the kitchen with a, "Miles, mijo, you've got to go. You've got that practice exam coming up."

"That's Friday, Mom, I'm ready for it," I said. I had studied... here and there. Maybe not as much as I should have. But I would be fine. Besides, it was only the practice one.

She gave me a look, glancing me up and down. I curled my hand in, trying to hide my injury as subtly as possible. She didn't spot it. Nodding once, she asked, "Are you ready to go?"

I got up, tipped the rest of the cereal down the drain and put my bowl in the sink. I breezed past them, grabbing my bag on the way out. "See you guys tonight. Love you."

They each waved their goodbyes.

A stray thought reminded me of something. "Oh, and Dad? I have a CLASSIFIED file on my desk, some of the police at the precinct might be interested in it. Especially the ones working on the impersonator case."

Before they could ask me any more questions, I shut the door and started on my way.

Finally a weight lifted off of my shoulders. I shouldn't have been glad to be out of their sight. But I was. I didn't want them to know what I was doing behind their back, I didn't want them to know how weak I was, or how I was in cahoots with the enemy.

"Miles, good to see you in class early," Miss Calleros said, beckoning me over.

There was no one else in the classroom but the two of us. I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. But if the resigned look on her face was anything to go by, it was probably bad.

"What's up?" I asked lightly, discarding my bag at my normal place.

She sighed, "The school has put down your absence yesterday as a family emergency. But I want to reiterate that Spider-Man should not get in the way of school. You have a lot of potential, everyone can see it, but you have to decide to live up to it."

I folded my arms and looked away. I wouldn't have much potential to live up to if I died come Monday. In fact, I wouldn't have any potential to live up to if Skeleton guy or Owl, or even Fisk, killed me. I wasn't invincible, I couldn't lie to myself about that. Peter was the best example of what went wrong when you made the wrong choices - and he had so much more experience than I currently had. "There's a lot going on right now," I finally said.

"The school is willing to offer as much help as you need. You just have to say you need help," she reminded me gently, but firmly. It still had me clenching my teeth.

"Yep, thanks. If I do need help, I'll let you know. Can I sit down now, ma'am?" I said, voicing dropping lower.

She waved me off, but tacked on a reassuring, "My office is always open to you Miles. For anything."

After class, Ganke was like a fly buzzing around my head. Loud, annoying, and persistent.

"I saw that video Miles, that looked like it really hurt. That dude with the sword got you pretty good. Wonder who he is. Do you know anything about him? Is he connected to anyone? Not the point. Are you sure that you're okay? Let me see what it looks like! Did your Mom stitch it up-?"

"Ganke," I hissed, cutting him off, "I'm fine, I've already told you. The video made it look worse than it was. Seriously."

I tried to continue eating my sandwich. Ganke didn't take the cue, much to my chagrin, and kept on barreling forward.

"I saw how you struggled to get that sword out of your hand, don't lie. The blood, too. Wow, like, how are you so nonchalant about this? I would have been screaming in pain and you were barely making a sound. Not to mention how shocked you looked afterward, even with a mask on," he continued, peeking at my hand.

I felt my left eye begin to twitch. Or maybe it already had been, and I just hadn't noticed it. I stuffed my hand in my pocket, out of sight. "Ganke, can we talk about literally anything else. I'm sick of talking about it," I asked, straining to keep my anger from leaking into my question.

"Dude, you got injured and-"

"I know."

"You should take this more seriously-"

"I heal."

"Just because you're Spider-Man-"

"Don't."

"I'm just saying, you're not invincible and that guy should have clued you in."

The anger clawed like a beast in my chest, straining to get out and lash venom. I slowly counted back from five. "Ganke. Why are we having this conversation?"

He frowned, "because you're getting hurt and it's my business as your friend-"

"How about you stay out of my business?" I snapped, voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, how about you do that. I have been Spider-Man for over a year, if you haven't failed to notice, and I know how to handle myself. If I think I need your help, the 'guy in the chair' who's only experience is hacking a library's network, I'll let you know."

Ganke was shocked. Mouth opening and closing like a fish. I shoved the rest of my food into my mouth and stood up.

"W-what about painkillers-" Ganke stuttered out, his brain stalling on his train of thought. I again slammed down on the brakes, like a brick wall in his train's path.

"I have handled crippling stomach pain from starving to death. I know how to handle myself. Now stay out of it." I flung my bag over my shoulders and stormed away.

Ganke didn't try to stop me this time, but I almost wish he had. Because when I looked back, he was stock still, curling in on himself. Physically drooping like a dehydrated plant. The cherry on top? I could see tears rolling down his cheeks.

The damage was done. I had hurt Ganke. My closest friend. I was such an asshole. I had to say sorry, but I was a coward. I couldn't walk back up to him. It was as if my body wasn't my own.

But… maybe, at the end of the day, it was for the best. The less people close to me, the less people Owl or Fisk could hurt.

Maybe it was for the best if I had no friends at all.