OMG the Spider-Man trailer was just released and I'm so freaking excited! Anywho, enjoy the chapter… :)

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"The guy's name is Jason Thand. And I don't know why he was in that photo."

Michelle's voice was quiet, but there was a steely edge to it that nullified the volume.

"That's it?" Peter said. As rain began pummeling the windshield, he flipped the wipers on. "Just his name?"

"Gee, Pete, I don't know. Maybe if I was able to get more than five words out, you'd have a lot more information. Is this how all of Spiderman's interrogations go?"

"You'd be surprised," he said evasively. He thought back to the disastrous encounter with the ice cream man and hoped she didn't call his bluff. "Sorry."

Michelle blew a curl off her face. "It's fine," she said, sounding as though there was nothing less 'fine' in the entire world. "Two years ago, I was in a group foster home—

"You're in foster care?"

She threw her hands in the air. "I'm dead. I'm in Hell and my eternal punishment is to listen to your endless interruptions."

"In my defense," Peter said, "I have been labeled as annoying so many times it's probably a medical condition. So you're technically shouting at a mentally ill person. How do you feel now?"

"I'm literally two seconds away from—"

"Okay, okay, I'll shut up!" he said. "Please, continue with your story." When she simply glared at him, he made his eyes wide and pleading. "Please?"

She groaned. "Stop that. It's like kicking a wounded puppy when I turn you down."

"Sorry," he said again, and fought to keep a smile off his face.

Michelle waited for several moments, watching him warily in case of more interruptions. "Like I said," she continued, speaking slowly and carefully, "I was in a group home. There were six of us. Most were jackasses, but there was one that was tolerable. Sometimes he was even like able. Kind of like you."

"What a compliment," he said sarcastically, though coming from Michelle, it really was.

"You wouldn't understand, but the system is made to break kids," Michelle said. "But Jason…"

Her voice changed. It became wistful. Longing.

"He was different. He was sweet and kind and cheerful. He was able to pick up a pencil and draw a moment so perfectly it was like a snapshot of emotion. Drawing was his thing."

"Like you," Peter said.

She nodded. "He was the one who bought my sketchbook."

So that was why she only carried one sketchbook. Why she always had it with her and handled it with care—as opposed to her textbooks, which were dumped unceremoniously into her bag. And why she had become so upset when it was almost ruined.

"Jason and I stuck together. We snuck out at night to hang out. He taught me to draw and I taught him how to steal without getting caught. Don't judge," she added as Peter raised an eyebrow. "I was fourteen. I'm not into that stuff anymore."

"Where's my wallet?" Peter said.

Michelle gave him an appraising look. "Nice instincts." She withdrew his wallet—which held, you know, an entire three dollars—and set it on the dashboard.

"The point is, we were really close. So when I woke up and found out he was gone, well...I panicked. Everyone said he ran away: the foster parents, the other kids, his cousin. But I knew he didn't. He wouldn't have left. Not without…" she trailed off.

Peter glanced at her. She was staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on something only she could see. "Did you ever see him again?" he asked.

Michelle's hand formed a fist. "He came back a month later," she muttered. "He was different. Closed off. Cruel, even. It was like he was an entirely different person. And his eyes…"

Peter's heart skipped a beat. "Were they red?"

"No. Not like that women he was with. But his eyes had been brown before. And when he got back, they were blue. This icy, awful blue that looked like shattered ice."

Peter stared out the windshield. The road was now being pelted with hail.

Whoever this kid—Jason—was, they had to find out why he was in that picture with the dead woman.

"Did he tell you anything?" Peter asked. "Any hints about where he went? What he did?"

Michelle shook her head. "He wouldn't even acknowledge me when he got back," she said miserably. "He just acted like he didn't know me. I tried to go into his room once, to force him to tell me what was wrong, and...and…"

He face twisted with revulsion. "He was killing pigeons. Snapping their necks and tossing them out the window, like they were just beer cans he was crushing and throwing away. And he was smiling. His hands were covered in blood, and he was smiling."

Peter's stomach twisted. He shouldn't have been surprised—this kid probably had a hand in Angie Phillips' murder—and yet the idea of a person grinning while killing animals was enough to make bile rise in his throat.

They were in the city now. The lights and honking horns came as a welcome sight.

Michelle turned to Peter. He didn't understand the excited, happy look on her face. "But don't you see?" she said. "The same person who killed that woman must have done something to Jason, too. Hurt him, or brainwashed him like the Winter Soldier. If he's still alive, we have to help him!"

Apparently they had drawn very different conclusions.

"Michelle," he said carefully. "Listen, I know you're excited, but there's still a chance that he's not...that he didn't…" he fumbled his words.

Her face fell. "You think he killed that woman. You think he's a murderer."

"Michelle, the dude was killing pigeons in cold blood. That's like something a villain on Cartoon Network would be doing!"

"He wasn't in his right mind!" she said defensively. "There were days when he would stop being tough and strong and just be scared. I once walked in on him crying. He was mumbling something about having no way out."

"Yeah, well maybe he was shedding tears for the pigeons," Peter said. "Sociopaths do that sometimes."

"He wouldn't kill someone," she growled. "He's had to deal with people dying around him since the day he was born. He wouldn't make someone else go through that. He's seen enough to not do that."

Peter gave her an incredulous look. "You're kidding, right? Just because he's lost people doesn't mean he's some angel that hasn't done anything wrong."

He didn't know why he was getting so mad, or defensive, or why the distinct memory of Ben's cologne was suddenly filling his mind for no reason. "People in your life die. That doesn't mean you're exempt from responsibility."

"You're don't have the right to judge him," Michelle said. "There's always an explanation. You've only lost one person! You have no idea how it feels to go through that over and over again. Jason does. I do, too. BUT YOU HAVE NO IDEA!"

Peter's blood froze. His vision fractured, just like it did when he was in a fight and adrenaline began pumping through him.

Losing someone. Death.

Michelle was right. He had only lost one person.

But it was enough.

Michelle's mouth hung open. Shock and guilt filled her face. "Peter—"

"We're here," he said. The car jerked to a stop in front of her apartment.

She didn't move. "Peter, I didn't mean that. You know I didn't. Please, don't—"

"You know what, Michelle? I've had a shitty day. A woman died, I lied to Tony Stark, there's a killer on the loose, and apparently you think he's just some innocent kid. But it's okay, right? Because he's seen death and understands it, even if I don't. So just get out of my car!" His voice had risen to a shout.

Michelle stared at him. She blinked rapidly and turned away, grasping the door handle. There was silence, then: "I haven't seen in over a year," she said quietly. "He would have gotten out of the system a couple months ago. I'll...I'll try to look into it."

The door closed softly behind her.

The last he saw of Michelle was her standing in front of the apartment building, arms hugging her chest, watching him drive away.

"Where have you been?" Aunt May demanded. Her round glasses were propped up on her head, fanning her long brown hair out. "It's midnight!"

"Sorry," he mumbled, pushing past her into the apartment. She followed closely behind.

"I told you to be back here by seven! And where are you at seven? Not here, for sure! Our landlord missed you, by the way. I had to sit through a three hour dinner because he thought I might be lonely."

"I said I'm sorry!" Peter said loudly. "It's my fault, okay? It's all my fault, and I should have listened to you, and if I had, I would have been back by seven and Uncle Ben would still be alive!"

May stared at him, her eyes wide. She swayed, gripping the back of a wooden chair for balance. "Peter—what—that wasn't your...you know that's not…"

"I'm going to bed," Peter muttered.

"No," May said. "We need to talk about this. Peter, you can't just—"

"May, please just let me go to bed," Peter pleaded. He blinked rapidly, just like Michelle had done. "Please let me go."

"I...no, wait...Peter…"

He didn't wait for an answer. His bedroom door closed behind him with a snap! and the audible click of the lock.

Peter stared at his bed. At his messy room, filled with junk and things he would never need, but things he could never throw away, because there was always the risk of needing it when it was gone.

He strode over to his closet and yanked his suit out. He wasn't going to sleep tonight. There was a killer on the loose, and hundreds more just like him, prowling the streets and just waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

And he had to stop them.

He got back two hours before dawn. He was covered in bruises and scrapes and smelled strongly of blood, but he was smiling as he fell into bed.

If he wasn't smiling—if he wasn't laughing or happy—then sadness and guilt would crush him. So he did what he always did. He buried the pain and replaced it with a smile.

Sorry if it sucked/had a bunch of typos. :/

Response to reviews:

Guest: I'm glad you it! It's kinda a hot mess in my opinion, but at least I'm putting words on the paper, right? Lol

Gammathetaalpha: OMG one of my favorite authors reviewed my story! Your review made me so happy; thank you!

Lunaterre224: Yeah, poor Peter. He really doesn't have the best of luck. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Wonderland A.K.A Cay-Cay: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it! (Also, I'm a HUGE Marvel fan too.) ;)