Behind the Mask

EIGHT: Caught in His Own Web

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Hi readers! This one is kind of long, but I didn't want to break it up because it's really important. Please let me know what you think! Leave me a review, I'll be super happy :) Thanks for reading!

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I caught myself nodding off again before slicing open my last box of toys. I hadn't slept well the night before, my mind was restless. Chase's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby. I was arguing with myself, trying to justify a reason for worrying so much about Peter when I never worried about Spiderman before. It wasn't my place to get involved, yet I could barely stand to stay away.

I peeled back the flaps on the box and had to do a double take when it was loaded with Spiderman action figures. My coworker Tara gave me a strange look when I started giggling to myself.

I shrugged. "Look, he has a real mask." I touched the fabric over the action figure's face.

Tara walked over, pinched the fabric, and lifted it up. "So handsome." She muttered in her sarcastic way. The face was just a generic man, nothing like Peter.

"This doesn't even look like him." I said, as if it were despicable for the face to be unimportant to the toy manufacturer.

"How would you know?" She questioned, making me bite my tongue. "Maybe the toy company has seen him."

"Maybe." I agreed quickly. I knew I had to be more careful. I could never forgive myself if I let his identity slip out.

In the boys' department, I completed stacking a row and a half of action figures before I could hear the store manager's voice approaching from a few aisles down. Daniel was in his mid thirties, but he had the personality of a ten-year-old boy. It explained why he found such passionate work in Toys 'R Us.

"...in case he needs to make a quick getaway, you know? Olivia!" Daniel exclaimed. My name frightened me.

I didn't look over, afraid I did something wrong. "Yes?"

"Guess who this is?" He talked to me like I was a customer he was trying to impress.

I force my eyes to the end of the aisle. "Peter Parker." I said simply, with a shake of my head and a smirk that didn't seem to go away.

Peter looked amused as well. "She's a good friend." He said politely.

"You know him?" Daniel was completely astonished. "This is the man that directly interacts with Spiderman on a daily basis!"

"Oh, really?" I pretended to be surprised. "You never told me that." I was still a bit thrown off by the 'good friend' line. He considered me his good friend after knowing me for less than a week?

Daniel didn't give Peter a chance to respond. "He's here to relay some important information about the 23rd to Spidey."

"What's on the 23rd?"

"It's our birthday!" Daniel exclaimed, like the store's opening date was the most obvious thing in the world. "Spiderman is making a special appearance, and participating in a Q&A."

"Q&A?" I asked again.

"Jeez, Olivia, you're supposed to be on top of this." Daniel whispered to me. "You volunteered for it last month."

It all came back to me then. I signed up about a week before Greg died. lt hadn't been on my mind recently. "Oh, right. I remember." I lied.

Another employee jumped into the picture. "Dan, the T-Rex won't power on."

Daniel huffed. "Excuse me one second. What do you mean it won't power on? It's a customer favorite!" He marched away in a fit.

That left Peter and I alone again.

"Do you stalk my life?" I asked Peter once Daniel was occupied.

"Maybe you're stalking mine."

"What are you doing? How does he know you 'interact with Spiderman on a daily basis'?" I continued stocking the shelves, but my rows became messier.

Peter slowly started scooting his way towards me. "Who is the only person you know of that takes the pictures of Spiderman and sells them to the paper?"

I didn't answer the hypothetical question. "So what, everybody thinks you're your own personal assistant?"

"Yeah, but they don't know I'm me." He started to correct my sloppy stacking.

"So that's why you're here?"

"Yeah, but why are you here?"

"I work here." I said firmly. "I told you that."

"I thought you were kidding." He chuckled. I rolled my eyes. "When's your shift over?"

My stomach did some excited twists and turns. I discouraged them by clearing my throat. "When the doors open."

"Would you mind coming somewhere with me when you're done?" The vague request along with his mischievous expression intrigued me.

"Where?" I asked with a small voice.

"It's a surprise." His smile was making me melt, but I froze up again when I remembered Chase. Peter read it the wrong way. "Don't worry, you'll just have to trust me."

I slowly picked up the empty toy box. "I don't know..."

"Oh, come on." He shoved my arm playfully. "Don't you trust me?"

Of course I trusted him. I didn't doubt that. "It isn't dangerous, is it?"

"No. Well - no, it's not physically dangerous."

I laughed, partly at him and partly at myself for trusting him so deeply. "Okay, fine. Can you wait ten minutes?"

"Absolutely."

Daniel reappeared and directed Peter to another location in the store. After they both turned the corner I looked back at my zig-zagged stacking skills and decided they would have to do.

. . . . . . . .

I hesitated at the top of the concrete staircase that led underground, but I forced myself to follow Peter down it.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of subways, too?" Peter paused, waiting for me to catch up to his step.

"I'm not afraid." My squeaky voice betrayed me. "Subways just make me nervous, that's all." We reached the bottom of the stairs and I accidentally brushed elbows with a few suspicious characters. My instincts persuaded me to lean closer to Peter.

I felt his arm reach around my shoulder and rub it to comfort me. His laughter was soft in my ear. "I guess you never know what you'll find down here."

I swallowed. "You'd think living in the city my whole life would actually mean something." We shuffled on to the open car and decided to stand. "Why won't you tell me where we're going?"

The subway jerked forward and started moving quickly. Peter closed his hand around the silver railing next to mine. "That's not how surprises work."

"What if I don't like surprises?"

"You'll like this one."

I pursed my lips, watching our reflection in the dark windows. "If I guess it right, will you tell me?"

"Probably not."

I chewed my lip, a natural anxiety starting to sink in.

"We don't have much patience, do we?"

"No." I whined.

It wasn't any use trying to get it out of him. The subway car stopped briefly to allow more passengers on. One man with a crazy look in his eye pointed at the front page of his newspaper and addressed all of us on board. "Ya see dis? Dis is the government tryna trick us all inta believin we not in any danger!"

I frowned at the large colored photo of Spiderman and the headline above it: CAUGHT IN HIS OWN WEB.

"Damn bug ain't caught! He still plannin on lettin us citizens suffer fer his own life! He don't care about us no more!"

Not many people were listening to his nonsense. Not until Peter spoke up. "Maybe he's still figuring things out. I'm sure he's trying to protect you...us."

The man laughed, airy and loudly. "Protect us? Dey got you fooled, boy! The bug ain't no hero! Shoulda seen that years ago."

The new and curious pairs of eyes glanced back at Peter to see if he had some sort of rebuttal. "I suppose you're entitled to your opinion."

"Hell yes I am! Damn bug gonna get squashed by that new gang dey got runnin round anyway."

"What gang?" Peter and I asked at the same time. I peeked at him, but he was focused on this opinionated man of many words.

"Boys wearin dem bug masks and settin traps fer the bug to crawl right up in. Same boys did that bank hold up the other day."

"I thought they were all arrested?" Peter questioned.

The man formed this evil and toothless grin I was sure would haunt my nightmares. "Dey ain't the only ones, boy. Dey all over the city."

I turned my back to the man, facing the window to hide the horror on my face. I was certain Peter didn't know there were that many people plotting against him.

"We'll get off at the next stop." He muttered to me. I only nodded.

We didn't talk about it again until we hit fresh air - well, until we hit the sidewalk. "Did you know about that? The gang he was talking about?"

He was walking faster than before. "I'm not surprised by it."

"Well what are you going to do?" I had to skip a little to catch up.

"There really isn't anything I can do."

"Yes there is. There has to be."

He stopped abruptly. "Oh? Like what?" I didn't sense the irritation in his voice a moment before, but I did now.

I tried not to cower, but I couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing that would mean something to him.

Peter shook his head. "Never mind, I'm sorry. Come on, let's go inside."

I didn't realize we'd reached our destination. "The Daily Bugle?"

Peter held the door open for me, waiting for me to walk through. "You said you wanted to be a writer. I got you a job interview."

I was both physically and mentally stunned. "You what?"

Peter gestured with his hand for me to walk through the open doorway again.

"Peter, I'm not ready for a job interview! Look at me!" I held my arms out for extra emphasis.

He nodded once. "You look great. It'll only take a few minutes, anyway. Come on."

I scoffed, looking down at my too-casual Rangers sweatshirt and jeans. "You must be joking!"

Peter dropped his head back and looked skyward before checking a watch on his wrist that wasn't there. "I'm not joking, Olivia! We're already late, so hurry up!"

"But-"

"Come on!"

I pouted, but I dragged my feet inside. It was just how I'd pictured it, the desks lined up in rows and papers littered across every surface. Computer screens held lines and lines of typed paragraphs and frames held headlines on the walls.

I whispered it to myself this time. "You must be joking."

Peter insisted I walk forward, his hands guiding my shoulders to the office in the back corner. He gave me a pep talk on the way. "Jameson can be...intense, but just be yourself. I'll make sure you get the job."

The butterflies in my stomach were out of control. "Peter..."

"You'll thank me later." He stepped in front of me to enter the office. "Good afternoon, Mr. Jameson."

The man at the desk slapped down his cigar. "Parker! You're late."

"The subway was crowded today, but -"

"What is it? New photos? Got one from the bank hold up?"

Peter pulled an envelope from his pocket. "Not exactly, but -"

"I don't pay you for this crap, Parker. Give it here." The man snatched the envelope from Peter and shuffled through the photos inside. "Fine for now, but get me those damn pictures and get out before you're fired."

I was shocked, but Peter didn't seem fazed by the threat."Mr. Jameson,"

"What the hell do you want? I don't have all day." He picked up his cigar again.

"This is my friend Olivia O'Neill, and she really needs a job in -"

"A job?" Mr. Jameson looked right at me, his mustache hiding his expression. "What the hell are you? Photographer? Journalist?"

"Um,"

He waved his hand at me. "Doesn't matter what you are. There aren't any openings."

It shouldn't have surprised me. It was rare to walk in to an unplanned and unexpected interview and walk out with a job. I shouldn't have been so disappointed.

"She knows Spiderman better than I do." Peter mentioned. "Anything she has to say will be a priceless column in the paper each week."

I wasn't expecting him to bring Spiderman into it. "Oh, no I -"

"That's exactly what we need!" Jameson looked me over again, his eyes tightening. "Will you knock Spidey out of the sky? Peel back the mask, show the city what's really slinging webs on our streets?"

"Of course she will." Peter grinned at me.

Was he serious? "I-I guess so."

Jameson nodded. "Congratulations, you're hired. Bring me a column by the end of the week. I'm late for my lunch break."

Peter bumped my arm when I was non-responsive. "Of course, the end of the week. Thank you so much!"

"Whatever. Parker, get me those pictures for the front page."

"I'll do the best I can, Mr. Jameson. Thank you."

"Sure, whatever. Now get the hell out so I can eat."

As soon as we stepped back onto the street, I allowed myself to jump up and down in joy. "I have a real job!"

Peter stood with his hands folded behind his back. He raised his eyebrows at me expectantly.

I practically leaped into his arms. "Oh, thank you! Thank you thank you thank you! I have to go home and start writing! It's already Wednesday, which means the end of the week is in two days. Two days, Peter! That's only 48 hours...how am I going to write a column in 48 hours?"

He dropped his hands to my waist and held me still. "What did I tell you about remembering to breathe?"

I remembered, taking in short little breaths at a time. "Why did you tell him I would write about Spiderman? I can't do that!"

"Of course you can. You can ask me anything you want."

"You can't release that kind of information to the paper! You heard the man on the subway."

"I know, but I think you'll be able to help me. There are still a lot of people out there that could use some convincing on my part. Maybe you can talk some sense into them."

There was a sudden weight on my shoulders that I wasn't prepared to bear. "So the only reason you got me this job was to help clear your name to the public?"

"No." He looked too guilty to satisfy me. "Not when you put it that way."

My fingers clenched into fists, gathering small bunches of Peter's jacket inside them. I hadn't noticed how close we were standing, almost embracing right there on the street. His fingers responded in the same way around my waist.

I slipped out of his hold, not because I wanted to but because I had to. Accepting this job meant I was welding a connection between the two of us that would be permanent in the public eye. If I accepted, there would be nowhere to hide if things got worse. My name would be caught in his web forever, the ink on the page to prove it.

"I know that's a lot to ask," Peter didn't try to reach back for me. "But if anybody is going to help me, it has to be you."

"Why?" I sounded defensive, not how I'd planned. "Because an elevator trapped us together while my brother was dying?"

His head shook as he stared down at his feet. "I haven't known you for very long, but I know that you care. I can see you won't run away from this because that's not the kind of person you are. You're brave, maybe the bravest person I've ever met, and I trust you."

I gulped, humbled by this person he spoke of, because it sure wasn't me. "What if I make it worse? What if everything backfires and the entire city hates you because of me?"

He shrugged like the outcome didn't really matter. "Would you hate me?"

I didn't have to think about it. "No."

"Then I won't have to worry about that."

I shouldn't have expected anything less. Even if all of New York hated him, it would always be all of New York minus one.