If Peter had known what would happen to him on patrol that night, he would have never left home. Perhaps that little break-in incident was really an omen of what was to come. A sign that trouble was approaching.

Too bad Peter, now Spider-Man, wasn't a prophet, because if he was, he would have never tried to save that man who was being "mugged."

And, as just stated, Spider-Man swung down into the alleyway where a scrawny, short man was being beaten on by two much bigger ones.

"Hey!" Peter shouted from behind the men, and they spun around simultaneously. One of the men was wearing a hat, the other a ski mask. "Why don't you pick on someone who is mildly shorter and much scrawnier than you!? Gosh, what happened to picking on people your own size?" Peter pondered as he shot a web at the hand of the man with the ski mask. The spider vigilante yanked on the web and the man came flying forward before his face intercepted with spidey's fist.

"Also, didn't you know it's rude not to introduce yourself to your guests?" Spider-Man grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped the mask off of him. He took a fleeting glance at the bald man's face that was twisted with a scowl, "Holy shniggle diggle, you are one ugly duckling. Ya know what? No introduction needed, you can have this back." Spidey chucked the mask into the man's face and shot a web at his ugly mug to keep it there. He then threw the older man at the wall and webbed him there, immobilizing him.

"Man, I hope you have better manners than that guy." Peter now spoke to the man with the hat while indifferently thumbing in baldy's direction. Hat dude backed away as the black clad hero took a few steps towards him. The other of the two thugs stumbled over a metal pipe, which he picked up and held out in front of him defensively.

"Now, lets have none of that. You wouldn't hit a guy with eye lenses, would you?" Peter shot a web at the pipe and tore it away from the man before webbing him to the wall behind him. When hat dude started shouting out profanities, Peter webbed his mouth shut.

"Language!"

Peter webbed his calling card to baldy's bindings and was about to turn around to leave stick man called out, "Wait!"

Spider-Man turned around to face the speaker.

"W-Who are you?" The man, looking to be in his early 20's, asked. His eyes were wide with shock.

"Who, little old me? I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-" The hero's proclamation was cut of by the young man.

"No, I know that already. But... you just sound so young, like my kid I got back home. Who are you? If your really as young as you seem... don't you have a life outside here? One you should be more. Concerned about?" The man now looked slightly worried.

The teen laughed awkwardly, ignoring the last couple questions. Slightly deepening his voice, he answered, "Telling you my name kinda defeats the purpose of a mask, dontcha think? Besides, a rose by any other name is just as sweet, right? Or... something like that. I gotta swing though, so-" Peter was cut off again, but this time by himself. His Spidey sense blared in his head, and he barely had enough time to shoot a web at the man and pull him towards himself, away from the flower pot that shattered on the pavement seconds later.

"Dang, buddy, you have really bad luck." Spidey chuckled, but stopped when his spidey sense went off again. The man was too close to him, and Spider-Man's guard was down. It was too late for our favorite arachnid to dodge the syringe that was now lodged into his bicep.

Spider-Man backed away from the other guy as fast as possible, ripping out the syringe and throwing it to the side. He glared at the traitorous man, and was momentarily surprised at how quickly his expression had changed from concerned to a blank mask, one even more impenetrable than his own.

"You really are gullible. Thank you, Spider-Man, for making my job so easy. It has been a pleasure working with you." He drawled.

"Wh-What did you do... to me?" Peter's vision was getting hazy and his voice slurred. The world seemed to be spinning faster, and the ground beneath his feet was shaking.

No, Peter thought absently, I'm the one who is shaking.

He fell to his knees and suppressed the urge to vomit as his stomach did flips from the dizziness he felt. The last thing peter heard as his vision began to fade and the thump of a body hitting pavement was, "Goodnight, Spider-Man."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~••~•~•~•

Layla banged her head on the apartment counter in a slow, lazy manner, not so much as to cause harm but more keep herself moving.

Richard sat at the table of their kitchenette for two. He sighed for what was probably the thousandth time this week.

"Layla, I know your worried about the kid, but there's nothing we can do about it. Hell, we can't even bring that aunt of his to court until we find him. He's a major witness of the case, without him, the files will just have to keep rotting in the court cabinet." Richard chided his wife.

"Don't you think I already know that, Richard?! I was there when you talked to the chief, you know. I know we are locked until we find Peter. I'm just frustrated that we're not doing anything about it! Here we are, lounging in our apartment, and he could be, I don't know, kidnapped!" Layla raged, pounding a fist onto the counter her face once inhabited.

"Have you checked the lead on that crime bosses business card?" He asked patiently.

"Of course I have," she walked over to her husband and plopped into the chair across from him, "There's a double agent working as a leak in there. He accessed the files they had on workers. There was no Peter Parker listed."

"Could he have gone by another name?" Richard suggested.

"Maybe, but he would have needed a fake I.D. If he did go by another name, there's no way for us to know. The mole they have in that area would surely get caught if he spent the time cross referencing all the faces of the workers to Peter's" Layla said.

"So, what are we gonna do about it now? The case is at a dead end, and if Peter doesn't want to be found, he won't be. Plus, a runaway is hardly the government's top priority, so something tells me it's not for off from being dropped. Resources won't be so sparingly used for a domestic case." Richard commented.

"What do you mean, "what are we gonna do about it?" Aren't you gonna try to, I don't know, try to make me forget about it? You were trying to get me to not involve myself not that long ago!" Layla wasn't complaining about her spouse's newfound cooperation, but she was certainly curious about his change of heart.

Richard sighed, "I know I was skeptical before, but it's different now. The kid was raped, for god's sake. Only a monster wouldn't try to help him now."

"Are you telling me you'll support anything I do for the case?" Layla's grin turned feral.

Richard almost cringed, but he hesitantly ground out his answer, "Yes..."

"Great! Let's go break into Peter's room again!" Layla clapped her hands together and grinned widely, her eyes scrunched in delight.

Richard groaned, "I should known your first though would be to do something illegal... Why would you wanna go back there anyway? We've already searched his room."

"We could have missed something." Layla said like it explained everything,"We weren't even there for all that long, it wouldn't hurt to check again."

At that is how Richard and Layla found themselves sneaking back into Peter's house. They had climbed up the tree from before and forced the window open before climbing inside. The room looked like a classic crime scene. Caution tape blocked the doorway and the bed sheets had been pulled back in a way that wouldn't disturb the evidence too much, but also allowed the preliminary photographs to be taken. The couple pointedly ignored the bed and the smell of old blood in favor of looking around the room for a second time. Nothing had been disturbed save for the pile of notebooks and folders on the desk that were now neatly stacked on the desk in orderly piles.

Layla took a notebook and flipping through it. It was full of science notes, based on the particular formulas, most likely chemistry. She put it down and began looking through the math notes.

"What are you looking for in those?" Richard asked sarcastically.

"Some lose sheets, notes in the margins, I don't know. You often find clues where you least expect it." Layla comment dully, not bothering to look up.

Richard grumbled something about deja vu before picking up the next notebook on the stack. He flipped through it too, but stopped to stare at a page for a minute, "I didn't pin Peter as a fanboy."

"What do you mean?" Layla looked up this time, and Richard showed her the page he was on.

"Isn't this that Spider-Man guy? There is a bunch of sketches of him in here, and then some more of someone who looks kind of like the original, but with costume changes." Richard commented while flipping through a couple of the pages for his wife to see.

"Richard, these aren't sketches... these are design schematics! Like, the type clothes designers would make. But this is Spider-Man. Do you think Spider-Man and Peter are connected somehow?" Layla exclaimed.

"Now that you mention it, Spider-Man didn't start showing up until after Peter went missing... for him to have drawn these designs of a vigilante before he was even known about is pretty suspicious." Richard didn't seem to happy with this realization.

"Are you suggesting Peter is Spider-Man? If that was true, and he had some kind of mutant power, why would he just let himself be beaten?" Layla shot a glance at the bed with this.

"Who knows? He could be hiding his powers. Or maybe he isn't the vigilante, but just knows him? Hell, we might be completely wrong about his involvement with Spider-Man. Spider-Man didn't appear on paper too long before Peter left, so the kid might have just been saved once before the hero's popularity began. The boy sure gets into enough trouble to need saving." Richard sighed at the end of this.

Layla looked thoughtful, "So, if we find Spider-Man, there's a chance we find Peter? I think that's enough of a lead for me." Layla took the notebook from Richard and started back towards the window.

"Wait! Layla, we're stealing evidence from a crime scene. That's even more illegal than being here now!" Richard warned.

"I don't think we should tell anyone about this theory, Richard. Besides, I'm sure two SHEILD agents should be perfectly capable of following such an assumptive lead. I'm sure the police won't want to bother with it." Layla winked at Richard and exited the room through the window.

•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•,•,•,~•~•~•~•~•~

When Peter woke up to being dragged down a hallway by two men, he was not happy. Alas, to his growing disappointment, Spider-Man found that he couldn't move his body. He wasn't bound, all of his limbs were just limp and he couldn't do anything. He was guessing it was the work of some neuromuscular blockers or some other drug. Perhaps a verified version of Succinylcholine? Either way, Peter knew he would be helpless until it wore off. Hopefully, that time would be shortened thanks to his spider powers.

He noted happily that his mask was still on, seeing that he could see the sides of his eye lenses. At least he still had his identity, he thought sardonically.

The Arachnid themed hero was pulled into a room at the end of the hall and plopped into a rolling desk chair. That was the moment he realized that he recognized where he was.

Someone yanked his sagging head up so he could see his former boss in crime. While Peter instinctively knew the hand holding up his chin was applying great pressure and it would probably bruise, he didn't really feel any pain. He didn't know whether he should feel grateful or distressed. On one hand, it meant any pain he felt while on the paralysis drug would be null. On the other hand, whatever damage done would be felt later on, so it would only delay the inevitable. On the bright side, Peter now had a little better clue as to what type of drug he was infected with. Whatever it was probably disabled the neurotransmitters in his body.

"It's been awhile, huh kid? Or should I call ya the Spider-Man now? I can't say I really expected ya ta go all hero after ya were let go. Were ya trying to prove yerself 'r somethin'?" The man laughed in a raucous manner.

"I have nothing to prove." Peter spoke with a little difficulty, considering he couldn't really move his jaw that well. His voice was mostly slurred.

"Sure, sure. I believe ya. Anyways, let's get down ta business. Do ya wanna know why I brought ya 'ere?" He asked.

"Yeah, its not because I know to much is it? Don't worry man, I'm picking up what your putting down, you don't have to hand it to me. I won't talk to anyone. What happens in fight club stays in fight club, right? Or don't tell me you just brought me here to listen to your dulcet tones." Peter singsonged jokingly.

"Of course not. I've brought ya 'ere so I could make a profit." He stated like it was obvious.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"I'm sellin' ya. Turns out people'll pay quite a lot fer a little mutant ta study."

Peter cringed, "Wow, black market auctioning? As fun as that sounds, my schedule is booked. Maybe some other time?"

"Sorry, I really must insist." The boss chuckled.

"Come on, I did you so many favors! What's a little return for an old pal?"

"Boy, you've been the one to stop several of my heists now." He growled.

"Oh, so it really was Paul I decked in the face! I'm sure he knows I was just kidding around. Why don't we just forget all this and go out for some shawarma, huh? My treat."

"I'll have ta pass on that one, kid. There's no way out of this." The older deadpanned.

"Not even if I click my heels and say 'there's no place like home'?" Peter pouted.

"Ya talk a lot more than ya used ta, boy." He glared.

"And your more annoying than you used to be. Seriously, if your gonna torture me, don't do it with your mouth. I rather have to watch Napoleon Dynamite than be here." Peter smirked behind the mask.

The boss glowered at the teen. "It would be a shame if ya had the balls ta escape when yer exchanged. Perhaps it would be best if ya weren't at yer top condition, eh? Get that brat out o' my sight." He growled.

Peter was dragged off with those parting words.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Peter lost track of how long he had spent with the two men. He expected it was probably a few hours, but it felt like much longer. About halfway through the... session the drug he was injected with had worn off. By then though, his body was in too much pain to even attempt any movement.

It hadn't been straight up torture, like the kind in the really angsty teen fanfiction she once regretted coming across on the internet. It was more like what he was already used to. Aunt Alexandra had beat him occasionally, not as bad as this of course. They mostly stuck to kicks and punches, but when they noticed the drug was wearing off, they started using a cattle prod...

It wasn't traumatizing, like... that... was, but it wasn't pleasant either. Peter decided not to think about it. Hell, he didn't even remember much. It was mostly a blur. Now he was being painfully dragged down another hallway, this one had more doors, though. Said doors were not wooden this time, but rather metal. Each door had a small opening at the bottom that was a little bigger that a mail slot. About eye level on the door was another little window with bars across it.

Jail cells.

At the end of the hall, which by the way, felt completely unoriginal, they stopped dragging Spider-Man and turned to the cell. One man, now dubbed Thing 1, opened the cell with a key card and pointed a gun into the cell.

"No funny business." He growled.

The man who was left to hold me, Thing 2, pulled me forward and threw into the small room. Thing 1 closed the door without another word and they left.

I groaned a little, and muttered grouchily, "The service here is terrible. I'm gonna give it a terrible review. This is the last time I rent cheap."

The captured vigilante began to painfully push himself off the ground, but froze when his spidey sense when off. A second later a hand pushed his head back down to the ground, and pinned the rest of his body.

A disembodied voice growled, "Who the hell are you?"

Hey, guys! Guess what? ITS MA BIRTHDAY! Yay! Another year closer to my death... T-T so this is a present from me to you! Although, I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around... tell ya what, drop a comment and we're even!

Please? Is the only incentive I have. T~T

Speaking of comments, thank you to Demi, Wolf, and misstake1 for commenting on the AN. I was really unsure about last chapter and didn't know if it was good enough. I'm sure anyone who has ever written knows how that feels.

Also, SPIDER-MAN HOMECOMING HYPE! I watched the movie in the theaters. Loved it! Tom Holland is by far my favorite Spider-Man. I don't know how you have been imagining it, but I'm imagining Tom Holland as Spider-Man, and the concepts from Andrew Garfield's movies. Also the black Spider-Man suit from the Andrew Garfield Spider-Man. Do you know what I'm talking about? Comment here if you want me to explain it in a different and more understandable way.

Have a good 15th of July!

~Sayonara