AN: Happy New Year everyone! The nitpick in me wants to keep this story 6 chapters long, since that's what is specified in the title. But the writer in me doesn't like how clunky chapter 4 is with this in it. It would break up the flow of the chapter, so instead here is an early update. Enjoy!

Power Outage

The wind was howling outside. It screeched in a high-pitched whine as it whipped its way around buildings and through ally ways. Peter sat at the kitchen table, across from May. It was dark in their apartment. The only light being given came from an LED lantern. It was the sort of lantern that one would take on a camping trip. Not that Peter had ever been on one of those. This lantern was bought so that the Parker family would be prepared for a power outage, like the one they were experiencing right now. The harsh white light was irritating Peter's eyes a bit. He ran a hand over them, rubbing the wetness off of his eyes before it could escape and roll down his cheeks.

"You okay?" May asked from across the table. Her voice was pitched higher than usual, her worry straining her voice. Peter couldn't help the grimace that stretched across his face. For the past couple weeks, he couldn't so much as sneeze without causing May to break out in near hysterical worry. Not that Peter could really blame her. A chill ran up his spine as the echo of metal on metal screeched only for him to hear.

'No, not now. Don't think about that'. Peter told himself. He lowered his hand while nodding.

"Yeah, my eyes were just tearing up a bit."

May nodded, satisfied with his answer, and then tilted her head down to look at the cards in her hand. The lantern was sitting on the table next to them. The light it gave off illuminated one half of May's face, while leaving the other side in shadow. It was a little unsettling, so Peter lowered his eyes to look at his own cards. He felt a smile creep on to his face, though he fought to keep his face expressionless. He held a flush. May had already won four rounds of poker, but this time Peter would win. He was sure of it.

"I bet a Reese's Pieces." Peter said. His voice rang with confidence as he reached over, pulled the little bag of candy from his stash and tossed it on to the pile in the middle of the table. Rather than play for money, they had decided to use the left-over Halloween candy for their bets. Well, technically it was all May's candy. She bought it, after all. This was all the candy that trick-or-treaters hadn't claimed. Peter was far too old to go out trick-or-treating. May had decided to split the candy between the two of them and play cards to pass the time until the power came back on.

"Hmmm…" May took a moment to consider. She looked at the cards fanned in her hand carefully. Her index finger tapping on the back of the hand. "I'll see your Reese's Pieces and raise you a Snickers". She tossed in the two candies from her stash. Peter felt the smile tug at his mouth again, and this time let it spread across his face. He tossed in a Snickers from his stash to match her bet, then he laid out his hand on the table triumphantly.

"Flush. I win!" He exclaimed. A smug grin lit up his face. May placed her hand over Peter's as he reached for the pot.

"Sorry, sweet pea." She said while turning her cards to face him. The smile slid off of his face and his shoulders sagged under the weight of defeat. "Her royal majesties Elizabeth, Mary, Victoria, and Anne would beg to differ. Four of a kind!"

"Ahhh man…" Peter whined, slumping back in his chair. May laughed at his theatrics and added the candy from the pot in to her much larger stash. "I was so close!"

"You're doing really well, considering I just taught you this game an hour ago."

Peter thought that it had been longer. To verify this, he reached for his phone, which was sitting on the table. His new Stark phone, given to him by Mr. Stark before he was discharged from the Medical Bay. His old phone had been barbequed by the subway tracks. He pushed the thought away. He didn't want to think about that. He tapped the button on the side of his phone. The screen lit up and seemed extra bright in the dark room. 8:20, Wednesday, November 2.

"Actually, it's been two hours."

"Really?" May propped her chin up in the palm of her hand. Mirth was dancing in her eyes. "Time flies when your hustling chumps out of candy." Her joy was infectious and Peter found himself grinning broadly.

"Can't we just play go fish?" He begged.

"No way! Where's the challenge in that?"

Peter huffed an exaggerated sigh and glanced over at his pitifully small pile of candy.

"How did you get so good at Poker anyway?" He asked.

"Oh, me and Susan use to gamble with our Halloween candy when we were kids." May replied while unwrapping a Reese's peanut butter cup and plopping it into her mouth. Peter searched his memory, trying to place the name to a face. Oh, that's right. Susan was an old childhood friend of May's. She had moved out of the city before Peter was born. He had only met her a couple of times.

"Huh," Peter replied while standing from his chair. He grabbed the lantern and moved across the kitchen to the cabinets. He opened one and peered into it, looking for some snacks. "I'm surprise she stayed friends with you even after losing all her Halloween candy." He called over his shoulder.

"Nah, we didn't play for keeps. Just for fun." Peter laughed a little at that, but then stopped abruptly.

The faint scent of smoke hit his nose.

His brow crinkled in confusion and he gave the air a tentative sniff. Yeah, that was definitely smoke. He turned around, the lantern swinging from his hand and casting light in random directions. He sniffed a few more times, trying to discern where the smoke was coming from. Finally, he turned the light up to shine it on the ceiling air vent. He could see little wisps of smoke leaking out of the vent. They were so faint, that he doubted that May would be able to see it.

"What are you looking at?" May called from her place at the table. Peter made a shushing noise at her. It was a real testament to how mess up things had been lately that May didn't take offense to being told to be quiet. Instead, she immediately closed her mouth and looked at Peter with wide, shocked eyes.

Due to May's lack of culinary skills, Peter was well acquainted with the scent of burnt food. He could tell that this smoke was not from burnt food. There was no power to turn on a stove with anyway. It had to be something else. Something was on fire in the apartment above them. Peter listened carefully, but he couldn't hear a fire alarm going off in the apartment upstairs. Dread sank in to his stomach.

He ran as fast as he could to his room, ignoring May's spluttering questions. He rummaged through his closet and pulled out his red home-made mask. It would have to do. He didn't have time to put on the full suit. The more time he wasted, the more the fire would spread. The mask would conceal his identity, that was the important thing. He raced down the hall and back in to the kitchen. He opened the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the fire extinguisher.

"What are you doing?!" May's panicky voice rang in the silence. He turned quickly to face her, extinguisher in hand. The worried lines in her face were heavily emphasized by shadows. He hurriedly pressed the lantern into her hands as he moved past her.

"I'll be right back!" He said, as he ran passed her and out the door.

There was very little light in the hallway. Relying on his memory of the building's layout, Peter ran to the end of the hallway to the stairs. He ran softly on the balls of his feet in order to lessen the amount of noise he made. The fewer people that saw him, the better. He reached the floor above of his and noticed how the scent was much stronger up here. Sniffing continuously, like a blood hound, he followed his nose to locate the apartment that was on fire. After a few seconds, he found it.

He stood in front of the apartment door, 6C, and naively tried to turn the door handle. The handle wasn't hot, which gave Peter some hope that the fire hadn't spread too much. But the door remained firmly shut. Locked. Of course. Peter pressed his shoulder against the door and pushed a bit harder. The lock made a crunching noise and a bit of the door frame splintered off. The door swung open.

A man, who Peter recognized but could not recall the name of, was lying asleep on his couch. The stench of beer was thick in the air and Peter's eyes flickered over to see a few beer cans laying empty on the coffee table. A number of lit candles filled the coffee table as well, and some sat on the kitchen counter. In the kitchen, a fire danced on the counter where one of the candles had toppled over. Flames licked at the bottom of the overhead cabinets and were creeping closer to the curtains by the windows.

At the sound of the door breaking open, the man sat up and blinked blearily.

"What the hell…?" He slurred, while eyeing Peter in the doorway. Peter ignored him and raced over to the kitchen. Lifting the extinguisher in his hands, he pulled the pin and aimed the nozzle at the base of the fire. The extinguisher made a loud swooshing sound as white foam burst out of it and smothered the flames.

The man swayed as he staggered to his feet. His eyes narrowed as he took in Peter's masked form. His hands curled into fists as he took a few lunging steps towards Peter.

"The hell you think you're doin' breakin' in my apartment?!" The man slurred while he swung his fists at Peter. It was easy to dodge, but Peter still found his reaction surprising. He dropped the extinguisher in shock.

"It was on fire!" He cried while pitching his voice lower to disguise it. The man continued to swing at him, and Peter could see he was beyond reason. He was also blocking the door, so Peter decided to escape out of the kitchen window. He swiftly reached out and opened the window with one hand. He simultaneously dodged the man's fists and climbed up and over the sink, then out the window.

He immediately regretted it.

A strong gust of wind pushed his body from the side. The frigid wind crept into his bones and he felt a chill wrack his frame. His sticky fingers clung to the brick wall, but only just. As quickly as possible, He climbed up the wall so that he could rest above the window. Looking down, he could see the man poke his head out the window to search the ally below. The violent winds blew his hair about, and after a moment of searching he gave up. His head disappeared back through the window.

Peter heaved a sigh. The coast was clear. He started to climb around the window, scaling down towards the ally. Suddenly, another powerful gust of wind hit him. He felt his fingers slip and, for a second, he was falling. He pressed his fingers harder against the wall to gain some traction. The setules on his fingertips protest under his weight and the force of gravity. He felt them bend backwards, and a wave of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold broke out over his skin. His heart hammered in his chest and a nervous sweat covered his body. As carefully as he could, with many breaks to wait for the passing wind, Peter lowered himself to the ground.

Crouching next to a dumpster, Peter gave a quick glance to see if anyone was watching. Satisfied that he was alone, he removed the mask and stuffed it into the pocket of his hoodie. He ran around to the front of the building and climbed up the stairs to the fifth floor. He entered his apartment and was immediately enveloped in May's arms. She held him tight.

"What the hell just happened?" She asked, her voice terse. Peter loosened her arms and lead her over to the couch. Now that his adrenaline was waning, he felt exhaustion sweep over. He sank back into the cushions, while May sat tensely next to him. He tiredly explained what had happened. When he finished, May appraised him with an awestruck look.

"You could smell such a small fire? From so far away?" She let out a long breath and then leaned in to the cushions as well. "How is that possible?" She murmured.

"How is any of this possible?" Peter asked with a shrug. "A lot changed in my body when that spider bit me. I'm not just strong and have a healing factor. My senses became super sensitive too."

Peter could see that May was mulling over his words. Her eyes darted between him and the lantern on the coffee table. Now that she knew the last secret, he could practically see her mind filling in all the missing slots. All the unanswered questions she had finally made sense. Her eyebrows rose in surprise and Peter could see her eyes light up in understanding.

"That's why you were acting like such a tweaked-out spaz before!"

"Yeah." Peter said with a small laugh. He felt his cheeks warm up a little, thought the room may have been too dark for May to see it. May shook her head in exasperation.

"Not gonna lie, I was kind of afraid back then that you were on drugs." Peter squawked a little in indignation at her words. May just shrugged before continuing. "I'm not so sure that genetic modification is better, but at least you're not on meth."

"Thanks, May." He grumbled, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"No, thank you" She said sincerely. All hint of joking was gone from her face as she regarded him with serious eyes. Her words took Peter off guard. He felt his head cock to the side.

"For what?"

"For saving me." She said quietly. "And for not letting our home burn down."

"Oh." Peter dropped his eyes to look at his hands on his lap. He was suddenly very uncomfortable. He didn't deserve her gratitude. Not after everything he had done. Or rather, hadn't done. He had failed her. She just didn't know it. He knew, for as long as he lived, he would always be striving to atone for that failure. He also knew that he would always fall short of complete absolution. The thought made him feel hollow.

"You don't need to thank me for that. Ever." His voice was flat.

Peter could feel May's gaze on him. After a few moments of silence, he felt the couch shift as she got up. He glanced up to see her pick up the lantern and walk with it down the hallway to her room. The darkness swallowed him in her wake. Peter felt a twinge in his chest and his throat started to tighten. Perhaps she finally realized that he caused more trouble than he was worth. Or maybe she could feel the guilt rolling off of him like waves. He couldn't blame her for leaving.

But then, after a minute or so, the light reappeared in the hallway. May returned and Peter felt the knot in his chest ease. She held the lantern in one hand and a bag in the other. A brown paper bag. She held it out for him to take.

This belongs to you – T. S.

With trembling hands, Peter grasped the bag and pulled it on to his lap. May sat next to him and looked him over with serious eyes.

"We're going to set up some ground rules." She stated. Peter felt his head bob up and down quickly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." The words tumbled quickly out of his mouth. May quirked a smirk at his familiar nervous antics. She held up one of her hands.

"No going out after midnight on school nights." She started while raising a finger. "I want to know if you're hurt, even if it's just some bumps and bruises." She raised a second finger. "You have to keep your grades up. No ditching school or decathlon practices." A third finger went up. "But most importantly," She leveled him with a serious stare, "no secrets between us. Never again."

"Never again." Peter echoed in agreement while he threw his arms around her waist. She laughed as he pulled her close. They both glanced up at the ceiling as the power came back on. The room was bathed in light once more.

"Alright," May stated brightly while removing herself from Peter's hug. "I'm starving. And if I'm starving, then you must be famished. Stark told me about your increased metabolism." She said with a slightly admonishing glance. Peter felt his head duck a little under her stern glance. "I think I'll just throw a frozen pizza in the oven and call it a night."

Peter nodded in agreement and watched from his place on the couch while May went to go preheat the oven. It was true what May said. He was very hungry, but he wasn't sure if he could eat anything right now. His stomach twisted in knots while he weighed the words of their agreement.

No secrets between us. Never again.

What happened to Ben was a secret that Peter wanted to confess desperately. And yet he could not bring himself to do it. Peter knew that made him selfish and a coward. May deserved to know the truth. But if she knew, surely, she would leave him. He couldn't bear to think of that. He couldn't bear to lose May, the last of his family. He protected her from trains and fires. It would be cruel justice if Peter lost her because of what he did. No, what he didn't do. Even as he thought this, Peter was overcome with the overwhelming sense that it was beyond his control. That something had been set into motion that night, nearly a year ago, and eventually it would catch up with him.

"Actually, May" he called over his shoulder, "I'm really tired. Think I'll just go to bed."

He could hear May turn to face him, but he didn't dare look up. The silence lasted for a moment longer than it should have. Peter knew she was looking at him with that concerned look.

"I'll save you a couple slices in the fridge. You can have them whenever." Her voice held a firm finality to it that Peter recognized as permission to leave.

He made a bee line for his room and softly shut the door. He didn't have the energy to change in to his pajamas. Instead, he just lay on top of the covers in his clothes, staring at the metal rungs of the top bunk. Hours later, he was still staring at them.