Chapter 3: Give All My Secrets Away

Yay! Another chapter! And this one is a doozy! But first, a few announcements:

Some of you may be familiar with Melancholy's Sunshine's story: Spider Powers Aren't Perfect. It's a challenge to complicate Peter's life with spider fun facts (Quite a fun read!). This story is now following that prompt too! I have a few things planned, but feel free to tell me any cool/creepy spider facts you want to see Peter deal with!

Also, I managed to delay naming the spider yet again, but she will get a name next chapter, so this is the last chance to vote. From the names presented last chapter, there's a vote for Phoebe and Arcana (possibly Arachne? Sorry if I assume that's a typo, Fletcher). I do like Phoebe too . . . We'll see.

Thanks for all the reviews! I hope you enjoy this extra long chapter. I'll probably go back to ̴less than 5000 after this though. Much more manageable. I just didn't want to split this one up.


Logan stared at the pathetic excuse for a burger on his tray. He was just about fully recovered from the spider bite, but hadn't yet been given the green light to leave the Med Bay. It would be several hours before he could get out of here and hit a good bar, but he just couldn't bring himself to eat the disgrace in a bun.

He was worried. He was honest to goodness worried about Parker.

The kid didn't know what had happened to him yesterday. Logan was willing to keep it that way so Parker wouldn't have to worry. Spider-Man was such a worrywart. But at the same time, one of Ka-Zar's comments kept haunting him.

'The Savage Lands had a way of leaving its mark on visitors. You could take the man out of the Savage Lands, but you couldn't take the savage out of the man.'

Logan knew all about savage. He was well aware that he could be particularly barbaric. Few people could watch him eat without giving him a disgusted glare and berating his table manners. And he didn't even have a single ounce of actual wolverine blood in him.

But Spider-Man, for all of his freaky abilities, was far more human than Logan could ever manage to be. Logan had spent a day in the kid's body. He knew the strength and the instincts Spider-Man possessed, but the kid just came across so . . . gentle. Nice.

God, that had been an embarrassing day. Waking up in a high school and then seeing his real body act like a wimp. And Sabretooth had seen it too. It was almost horrific.

Almost, because if any day with Spider-Man could be seen as horrific, it would be yesterday. Horrific was definitely the word that came to mind when Logan had watched Spider-Man turn into a feral beast.

Admittedly, Parker hadn't made a very good feral beast. He had fought pretty clumsily with the addition of four arms, and he certainly hadn't figured out how to use those fangs. He hadn't realized that you should always start with the softest flesh on the neck or underbelly when trying to slice something open, not the bony tail. But Logan had no doubt that Parker would have been able get the hang of everything if they had left him there. He was glad Ka-Zar had known how to get the antidote. He honestly doubted if they would have been able to catch Parker if they had waited any longer.

But after the antidote was administered, Spider-Man had gone right back to his old, naïve self. And Logan was glad for that. Yet at the same time . . .

Logan knew all about mutants and genes and all that hullabaloo. Okay, maybe he wasn't much of an expert on genes, but he did know that once mutations switched on, it was hard to turn them off, to just ignore that part of yourself.

So sue him if he wanted to check in on the kid today. Even a man as callous as himself could worry about others some days. He was doing Spider-Man a favor. Once he was sure that the spider-monster business was behind him, he would zip his lips and it would be as if it had never happened. He'd already ensured Ka-Zar's silence. Parker would be none the wiser.

But Logan's hope that everything was fine dwindled once Parker entered his room. Dressed in full Spider-Man gear, the kid looked tense and anxious the moment he came in. Logan cleared his throat. He had always been about as subtle as a bison. He had no idea how to broach the topic without giving anything away.

"Hey, kid," Logan greeted gruffly. He gestured to the edge of his bed. "Sit."

With a small, awkward wave and hesitant steps, Spider-Man sat on the very edge of the bed. He might as well have been standing. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fit as a fiddle now. Just waiting for the whitecoats to let me out of here. Figured I might as well see you under less dangerous terms before I head back up North. Good job yesterday."

Parker's head tilted in the way it did when he was blushing. "I don't think I was much help in the Savage Lands."

Logan waved his hand as airily as he could manage. "Oh come on, kid. You don't remember anything about it, do ya? There wasn't much to do there anyway. The big fight was back here in the city."

It was hard to tell with the mask, but the boy suddenly seemed to find the floor very interesting. "Yeah, I don't remember much," he mumbled. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he turned to face Logan. "Um, Mr. Logan, could you tell me what happened while I was . . . unconscious?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, frowning. He was usually the only male adult that Parker didn't use the formal moniker of 'mister' with. And the kid sounded far too doubtful that he had simply been unconscious. Parker must have remembered something, something drastic enough that it had him this anxious.

Logan took a deep breath. Maybe leaving the kid in the dark was crueler than telling him.

"Settle back, take off your mask. It's a doozy of a story." He didn't plan on giving the long explanation, but he figured the conversation would go better if he didn't have to worry about the kid fainting or hyperventilating on top of everything else.

Parker scooched back an inch or so, his hand going to his mask. But right after he began to lift the fabric, he pulled it back down, placing his hands in his lap. His thumb rubbed the palm of the other one consolingly.

Logan tried not to let his frown deepen, but he had never been the most sensitive man. "What's wrong? We both know how much that mask starts to stink up. You usually jump at the opportunity to take it off." He wasn't wrong. Since Logan was one of the few agents who knew Spider-Man's identity, Parker was often more than happy to be free of the mask when it was just the two of them or with his team.

"As if your entire suit doesn't smell worse," Parker threw back with a quick laugh. Logan didn't miss how he avoided the question.

He really wished the doctors hadn't taken away his flasks of whiskey.

"All right, kid. Level with me. Something's obviously eating at you."

Now Parker really started shifting and squirming. "What do you—"

"The sooner you stop beating around the bush, the sooner we can get this over with."

Spider-Man deflated, finally becoming mostly still. "Fine. It's just—I've been having these dreams all night. And they're all the same. And they're all horrible. And—And they all feel . . . real."

Logan prompted him to recount the details, which matched yesterday's series of events perfectly. Logan was honestly shocked with everything the kid remembered. Parker had sounded so disoriented after they administered the antidote. He had hoped the memories were wiped out completely.

Obviously, that wasn't the case.

But as Parker's narration turned into more rambling than anything else, something tickled at Logan's mind. He felt like he was missing something. It was times like this that he envied the psychics. Jean Grey would have known everything in a heartbeat and would have acted accordingly. And then she probably would have berated Logan for being as sensitive as a teaspoon. Whatever that meant.

"Kid," Logan said softly, but the kid didn't so much as pause to take a breath. "Kid . . . Parker!" That made him quiet. "I'm not going to lie. What you're saying is true." Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Did you really just dream all of that?"

Parker went quiet then. Logan could hear his breath and heartbeat. Both were fast and shallow. "So it is true. All right. Okay. Um—yeah, I think it's a subconscious thing. You know," he raised a shaky hand to gesture at his head, "repressed memories and all that jazz." His voice became noticeably higher pitched as he spoke.

Taking pity on him, Logan offered the only thing he could: food. He pushed the plate of burgers towards him. "Here, eat something before you pass out on me. I don't need you distracting the doctors from letting me out of here."

"I couldn't—"

"Just take 'em. I'm not hungry anyway," Logan lied through his teeth.

"Well—um—then there's something else I want to ask you first. Did Ka-Zar mention if the poison had any—uh—side effects?"

Logan's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Parker finally pulled off the mask. Logan was ready to see anything from eight eyes or giant fangs. But Parker's face looked fine. It was the same face Logan had had the displeasure of seeing in mirrors for a few hours. No large mandibles, no coarse hair, only two eyes. Except . . . wait . . .

"Did you get contacts?" Logan asked.

"No, I—My eyes have a tapetum lucidum now," Parker admitted shamefully.

Logan stared at him blankly. "A what?"

Parker picked up a burger, looking down at it dejectedly. The slight movement of his head made his eyes flash a brighter green. "It's the reflective part of the eye that lets some animals see in the dark. Cats have it. Wolf spiders have it. Now I have it."

"That's all?"

The kid looked up to glare at him, and Logan had to admit, the green glow made the glare intimidating for once. "My eyes shine bright green! I can see in the dark! And that's all you can say?!"

Logan shrugged. "It's not the strangest mutation I've ever seen. You'll get over it."

Parker stared at him for a good minute before a small grin made its way onto his face. "Yeah, I guess you're right. This is nothing compared to having eight limbs." The grin turned into a smile. "Thanks for saving me, by the way." He took a large a bite of burger.

"Don't mention i—woah." Logan averted his gaze. "You didn't tell me about your teeth."

The kid froze mid-bite. Logan wished he hadn't. Those flexing fangs were on full display. Then Parker finally closed his mouth to begin chewing.

"Ma wa?" he asked around the mouthful.

"You don't know?"

Parker chewed and swallowed quickly as he rushed to the bathroom. Seconds later, a strangled cry came from within. Logan sighed, pressing the nurse call-in button. It looked like the kid wouldn't be able to put the jungle madness incident behind him anytime soon.


Peter sat on the medical bed and stared at his reflection in the handheld mirror Doctor Connors had given him. The doctor himself was off in a corner of the lab, assembling the tests results into a coherent conclusion. They had gone through all of the tests fairly quickly, which Peter appreciated. He was pricked and prodded by super villains far too often to find doctor visits anything but disconcerting. Of course, the checkup had still been quite awkward and embarrassing. It had taken them both a while to figure out how to get his fangs . . . moving again.

Because that's what his fangs did now. They moved.

He still couldn't believe it.

Just to make sure (yet again) that it wasn't an illusion, Peter slowly brought the wooden tongue depressor back up to his mouth. When he just bared his teeth, they looked entirely normal. His fangs had always been just a little bit longer than most people's. But it ran in the family; his father had had the same smile. At just the right angle, it looked vaguely vampire-ish, but it wasn't immediately noticeable.

Now, however, when he opened his mouth wide, the fangs became even longer. And when he paid very careful attention, he could feel the movements of small muscles that had probably not been in his mouth before yesterday. But aside from that, it felt as natural as swallowing. So again, Peter had no way of knowing if he had had them yesterday at dinner. May hadn't noticed anything, but then she didn't exactly watch him eating.

It was sickening.

And the wider he opened his mouth, the longer the fangs got. A quick trial showed that, if he stretched his mouth as wide as it would go, they could be nearly an inch long.

He hadn't tried that again since.

But the absolute worst part was when he bit into things. So, taking a deep breath, Peter placed the tongue depressor sideways in his mouth like a dog might carry a stick, and he bit down. The effect was immediate. His fangs extended and hooked onto the stick. Still startled by the sudden movement, Peter bit down too hard, snapping the stick into pieces.

He immediately spit the pieces out, throwing them with the rest in the waste bucket before leaning back onto the bed, covering his face with both hands.

This wasn't fair. First his eyes, now his teeth. He hardly looked like himself, let alone human. Connors insisted the changes were subtle. But when it was your face you were expecting to see in the mirror, it didn't feel subtle at all.

Peter wished he hadn't been so forthcoming with Logan. He really hadn't meant to address their mission at all, let alone tell him about the eye thing. And he certainly hadn't expected to find out he had fangs. But he had cracked. His swing over to the school (the nearest lift to the Helicarrier for those who couldn't fly) had been . . . alarming.

Perhaps he should have predicted it. He had already made similar comparisons in his nightmares (he didn't want to call them dreams anymore). But it was still strange considering the memories were still dreamlike. They shouldn't have been real enough to remain so vibrant while he was awake. Yet the fact remained that the short run through the rooftops had reminded him forcibly of his run through the jungle.

And suddenly the memories had felt so real.

The contrary smells of life and decay mingled with the scent of pizza, hotdogs, and other foods, beckoning him like the scent of the dinosaur had. Noises came from everywhere. The buildings stood like enormous trees, offering the same safety and mode of transportation. And on the roofs was a clear, quiet, open space where he was free to run and leap to his heart's content.

Of course, none of those feelings were nearly as clear as he feared they were. They were all indistinct and fleeting visages of what had once briefly been. But that was the issue. At most, the jungle was supposed to remind him of the city, not the other way around. Walking around the city while thinking of the jungle felt too much like . . . like missing something that wasn't supposed to be his. He had only been in the jungle for a several hours. Several terrible hours, really. And he was a city boy at heart.

So why did it feel like there was hole in his heart in the shape of the Savage Lands?

Yet no, it wasn't the jungle itself. It was the shadow of the freedom he had felt there that seemed to be lacking. For all the swinging and flipping he could do along the skyline, it was suddenly apparent how many other instincts he suppressed on a daily basis. And now that little trip had put them all in the spotlight.

Maybe that was the worst part. Peter had been aware of most of these instincts before yesterday. Now they were only harder to ignore.

But ignoring them was exactly what he was going to do.

While Peter was still wallowing in the first bout of self-pity he had allowed himself in months, the sound of the medical bay door sliding open announced some visitors. Peter didn't want to look up, so he counted the number of footsteps he heard instead. There was one steady pace identifiable as Nick Fury. Then there were Ava's quieter steps. The guys on the team had less characteristic gaits, but if Ava was there, then it was a reasonable guess that three of the other footsteps belonged to Sam, Luke, and Danny. And then there was one more. Peter wasn't sure who it could be at first. But then the musky scent reached his nose, and he realized Wolverine must have come too.

Under his hands, Peter's face flushed as he realized he had deduced all of that from scent and sound. He hadn't felt so self-conscious about his heightened senses since he first got his powers. Then there had been a brief period of time when he had been comfortable using them to his advantage while on patrol. That had been shortly after Shield recruited him. But now they reminded him of his inhumanity again.

"Parker," Fury said. "Wolverine has just regaled us with the previously overlooked details of your mission yesterday. Is there a reason why you did not include them in your report?"

"I'm telling you," Wolverine said, gruffly. "He doesn't remember a thing. He had no idea until I mentioned it earlier."

Peter didn't uncover his face, but he did perk up at that. Wolverine was taking the blame, and saving him from having to tell anyone his own blurry memories. He appreciated that.

"And yet you didn't bother telling me until you realized there were some lasting effects," Fury responded coolly. His footsteps approached Peter. "Show us, Parker." It was still an order, but the tone was noticeably softer.

Despite the sudden silence, Peter was all too aware of the presence of his team. Of course, he knew he had to show them. That didn't make it any less awkward though. Trying not to look too hesitant, he removed his hands from his face and sat up. It was harder to look them in the eye than he had expected. After a few seconds of seeing the shock on their faces, he let his gaze drop to the floor.

"Whoa, you look different," Sam said. "Did you get a haircut?"

Peter snorted, but didn't allow himself to fully smile.

"Your eyes aren't that different," Luke said. "And that's a nice color anyway. It's like a seafoam green. Or algae. Looks cool."

"Uh, thanks, I guess," Peter muttered.

Fury took another few steps forward, entering Peter's personal space. "Let's see the teeth now."

Licking his dry lips, Peter grabbed another tongue depressor. This time he tried his very hardest to not break the stick. It was a weird sensation to not only be conscious of the movement, but also to try to control it. Somehow, he managed to succeed. This left his new fangs on display for longer than he felt comfortable with. Everyone was gawking at them. At him.

But then they all looked away, turning to Doctor Connors before Peter even buckled and closed his mouth. He let out a relieved sigh, throwing the latest stick away.

"Connors," Fury called sharply so Connors would finally look up from his work. "Do you know what's going on?"

The doctor pulled a few choice documents closer to him for reference as he began to translate the jargon he had been reading through for the past half hour. "With no samples of the poison Kraven used, I can't be too sure. Peter's body already flushed it out of his system. But that's good news too. That means it only had a limited amount of time to work on his body. The bad news is, it seems to have already started a cascade effect."

Peter's stomach lurched. "What do you mean?" He was aware his voice was pitched a bit high.

Connors paused, as if searching for the right words. "It's . . . nothing you haven't already dealt with, I suppose. This actually fits in with the hypothesis I've had for a while now. You see, I'm fairly certain that your body adapted to the changes caused by the spider bite so well because you're in the midst of puberty."

All of the teenagers in the room shifted awkwardly.

"Your puberty so far has only involved your human genes, because that's all your body knew how to do," Doctor Connors continued, oblivious to the change in atmosphere. "But now that your spider genes had a quick chance to shine, I believe they're in for the puberty ride as well."

Peter distantly wondered if the paling of his face was counteracting his fierce blush. His mouth refused to work, so it was Fury who asked the important questions.

"What exactly are you implying? Will there be more changes? How far will this go?"

"I doubt this will be very drastic. The eye and fang developments were already on the verge of happening anyway."

Now Peter's mouth functioned. "W—Wait, what? You never told me anything!"

"Well, it wasn't like I knew they would develop, "Connors amended. "What I mean is that the genes were already there, but most of them were off. In other words, they were things that could have developed immediately after the spider bite, but didn't. It took that poison to push them the rest of the way. That's the final bit of good news. Any further changes should be fairly minor, and I should be able to predict most of them." He smiled broadly, holding up the documents proudly in his hand. "It's a good thing I always run very thorough tests, huh?"

There was a beat of silence as everyone stared at him. Connors slowly lowered his hand, replacing the papers on the desk. But Fury didn't like to waste time with silence. "Are you sure?" he asked briskly.

"I'm quite sure. I would still like to fully compare the latest data to his archived DNA files, but the preliminary scans are what led me to that theory."

Peter took a few deep breaths. "You know," he said. "You could have led with that last bit of good news."

"Sorry," Connors said. "But there is more good news. You don't have venom, or at least not yet. From the look of things, your fangs are still developing. They won't get much bigger," he added hurriedly when Peter's eyes widened. "Maybe just a teensy bit, and they'll gain some more mobility. And they are hollow, but I don't know if your body will be able to accommodate venom sacs. Nothing may come of that."

Peter wasn't sure how good that news was.

"All right, then," Fury said. "I want you five in the training room, stat. You need to get used to your new vision." His frown deepened. "And I need to call your aunt."

"Can't I tell her?" Peter asked immediately. He knew he had already broken his promise. She would already be the last person to know about all of this. That made his gut twist guiltily, but he still felt like he should be the one to tell her.

"It's part of our . . . agreement that I call her with any news regarding you," Fury said. Then he added somewhat bitterly, "Besides, the sooner she hears about this, the less angry she'll be."

And with that, Fury strode from the room. His last words seemed to echo in Peter's ears. He knew Aunt May would be at least a little angry, and also disappointed. But what else would she feel when she saw him like this?


Today, the training room was set to look like a very generic warehouse scene (because really, way too many supervillains hid out in warehouses). A huge space with piles of boxes and other junk to serve as cover. Chameleon bots disguised as regular thugs shot at the team. But most of the team hung back; they were under strict orders to let Spider-Man do most of the work.

The first few minutes were spent under normal lighting. In other words, much brighter than warehouses actually were. Given that Peter had already spent the past few hours in ordinary room lighting, everything went smoothly. He did notice that staring directly at the lights was a worse idea than usual though. The spots they left on his vision took longer to recede than before.

Peter had expected as much, but, being a scientist, he had wanted to test the idea anyway.

After he took out two of the 'thugs', the lights dimmed to the usual level for an abandoned warehouse that doubled as an evil lair. It took almost no time at all for Peter's eyes to adjust. He webbed up three more of the bots easily.

That was when the lights turned off completely.

"Whoa!" Luke yelled, quickly followed by a soft thump. He had been using the time to run some laps, and had no doubt been caught off guard by the sudden darkness. "Could have warned us!"

For a second, Peter couldn't see anything either. He stayed on the wall he had been in the process of climbing up. But then Iron Fist's hand lit up, and Nova turned up his glow in the distance, but not by much. After blinking a few times, the room came into dim view. The room still looked dark, but Peter could see well enough that he would be able to move around without crashing into something. He could see Power Man rubbing his nose tenderly, the chameleon bots taking new positions, and White Tiger sneaking up on him by climbing the nearest pile of crates. He turned around to face her.

"Night vision is pretty cool," he admitted.

"Of course it is," she replied. "But now Power Man is the only one I can sneak up on in the dark." Her pout wasn't visible behind the mask, but it was clear in her voice.

"Hey, no fair!" Luke called from below. "Just because Nova stole my night vision glasses . . ."

"I just borrowed them," Sam argued. "Your sunglasses are way cooler than mine, and Shield won't increase my allowance! Just give me one more day with them, please?"

"You're still trying to ask that girl out, aren't you?"

"Nope!" Sam said proudly. "Already did! But she wants to spend the day at Central Park, and it's going to be sunny tomorrow."

"If we're going to do more training like this, I need them back. But . . . maybe I'll think about it if you promise to do some of my paperwork for a week."

Peter tuned out their negotiations and focused his attention back on the chameleon bots. It was honestly nice to be unhindered in the dark. He leapt onto the nearest bot, kicking it to the ground. He then used the momentum to launch himself at the next one. He could see its blank features as he rushed closer.

And then he couldn't see anything at all.

The lights turned back on, or so Peter assumed from the burningly bright white that was blinding him. He yelled in pain, crossing his arms over his face to block out the light. A second later he connected with the chameleon bot, and they fell into a heap onto the floor. Peter couldn't manage to even crack one eye open. It felt like each ray of light was stabbing his retinas.

"That's enough," Fury's voice declared. The constant, barely audible humming of the training room stopped, signaling the illusions' dismissal. "Dim the lights too."

Peter felt the chameleon bot extricate itself from beneath him, but still didn't uncover his eyes. Bright spots were dancing mockingly on his eyelids.

"Spidey!" The rest of the team rushed up to him. Someone started to help him up. Peter would have preferred to lie there for a few more minutes, but allowed himself to be pulled up.

"Hurts, huh?" Ava asked knowingly. Peter nodded. "Connors can give you tinted lenses like mine, then."

"So that's how you do it," Peter said. He finally tried a peek. The room was indeed dim again, almost dark. He carefully opened his eyes the rest of the way.

Fury descended into the training room then, stopping in front of the team. "We'll upgrade your lenses accordingly. Your contacts will also be made accordingly. For now, I want you to go home."

Peter frowned at him. "What about the rest of training? We always train together on Sundays."

"You'll test the new lenses tomorrow before patrol. Your aunt wants you home tonight."

"Ah," was all Peter could say to that.

"Do we all have the rest of the day off?" Sam asked hopefully. Fury levelled his eye on him.

"Fine, you're all off the hook today. But I want you all here immediately after school tomorrow."

Sam whooped and flew in a loop, leading the way out.


Peter pushed his wet bangs out of his face and closed his locker, looking at the other male members of his team. They were talking and laughing, always louder here than at the gym lockers at school. It was probably because they were free to talk about anything here. They could discuss TV shows, argue about the latest mission, and complain about the pros and cons of spandex. Of course, they were also a bunch of teenage, superhero guys, so there were downright weird conversations too. But for the most part it was an open space for the strangest yet most truthful of conversations. So Peter decided to use the opportunity for all it was worth.

"Hey, guys," he said, just loud enough to get their attention. "What do you really think about—about . . ." He waved his hand, gesturing at his face. He wasn't sure how to describe it in a way he felt comfortable with yet.

Luke paused halfway through pulling on his shirt so the bottom half of his face was covered. His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "What do you mean? Like, how we feel about your little . . . makeover?"

A smile pulled at Peter's lips, but then he remembered his fangs. Sam noticed his hesitation and scoffed.

"You know, the fangs aren't even visible when you smile, only when you're making a big point of showing them off," Sam pointed out.

"Really?"

"It is true," Danny agreed. "Your eyes are the only noticeable change, and they have already proven to be helpful."

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Pete," Luke interrupted him. "Don't worry about it. We already knew you're part spider. You're not that much weirder than before. And you're in a bunch of weirdos anyway. My skin is impenetrable, Danny can put his fist on fire whenever he wants, Sam glows like a flashlight, and Ava has a magic tiger amulet. You hardly stand out on the weirdo-meter."

This time Peter did smile. "Okay, fine." He opened his locker again to finish getting dressed. "Thanks, guys."

Sam, Danny, and Luke waved it off. It wasn't until a few seconds later that the thoughts started to nag at Peter, as terrible thoughts are prone to do.

Sam was an ordinary kid the moment he took the Nova helmet off (yet extraordinarily annoying regardless). Same with Ava and her amulet (although she trained hard enough to still be a formidable threat). Danny's fiery fist could be mistaken for a cheap parlor trick if he were ever careless enough to let other people see it (not that he would ever actually be so careless). And although Luke was the only other 'genetically engineered' member of the team, his skin still looked perfectly normal (and flawless; he never got acne).

So Peter was the only one who would always be significantly less than 100% human.

That didn't bother him too much in and of itself, but . . . he hoped that percentage didn't go down much further.


Peter entered the house with his head hung shamefully. He walked in slowly, looking down at the soft blue carpet that lined their entryway. He walked until he spotted his aunt's bright green slippers. Then he looked up at her. The contacts were in his back pocket. He knew May would ask him to show her anyway. He didn't want to hide it from her at this point.

Initially, she was glaring at him, obviously ready to reprimand him for trying to keep secrets from her again. But her gaze softened the second he looked at her.

Somehow, that didn't make him feel any better.

Her hand came up to cover her mouth, her fingers digging into her skin. "Oh, my little boy . . ." And before Peter could protest, she was hugging him tight.

"Jeez, May," Peter muttered, although he relaxed in her grip. "And I thought I had the super strength here."

"I've been worried sick about you!" She pulled back, holding her nephew at arm's length so she could get a good look at him. Peter noticed her eyes kept lingering on his. "Why didn't you tell me this morning?" she asked, voice sad and disappointed. "Why did I have to hear this from Nick Fury?"

Peter had long been the type of child whose worst fear was that disappointed look. There was nothing worse than letting his aunt and uncle down. They put so much effort, time, and love into his upbringing. It felt wrong to give back anything less than that. That's what had really started the great report cards and well-defined moral compass.

And that's why he withered guiltily under her gaze.

"I'm so sorry! I was going to tell you! I really was! But . . ."

Peter stared at her, the cowardice of his actions finally hitting him in the face. He was supposed to be Spider-Man. He was supposed to be brave! Yet he had fallen apart so easily just because he was startled by his own reflection.

It was pathetic.

"What is it?" May asked, running a hand through his hair. "You know you can tell me anything."

But it was more pathetic to continue being a coward.

"I was . . . I kind of freaked out," Peter admitted. "I was just going to wait until tonight. I wanted to figure it out on my own first."

"Alone? Peter, the whole reason I let you continue working with Shield was so that you wouldn't be alone! And while I may not be a scientist or a superhero, I'm here for you too. I wouldn't have minded if you woke me up in the middle of the night. I hope you know that." She cupped his cheek. "Promise me you'll tell me the moment anything else happens."

"I will, May," he assured her solemnly. For some reason, that didn't make him feel better either.

"Good." May finally let him go, taking a step back. "I have to admit, you look cute with green eyes."

"But they're not just green. They glow."

May waved an airy hand. "Only at certain angles. Now, I want to see how bad the teeth are."

Peter simultaneously bristled and deflated at her choice of words. Bad? She thought his fangs were bad? He knew she didn't mean it. Probably. People usually didn't have flexible fangs. And May had only found out about his spider side a couple of months ago, so she might still be adjusting. Yet he couldn't help but wonder as he obediently opened his mouth wide. Not too wide, but wide enough.

May's eyes widened, and she visibly swallowed. That wasn't a very good sign, was it? "Will they . . . will they make it harder for you to eat? I can make softer food if you need."

Peter shook his head. "No, they're just kind of . . . there. I think they only react to foods I bite into, like burgers, and hotdogs too probably, and maybe—" He gasped in horror. "And pizza too, I bet! Aw, man. I have to avoid eating those things in public for a few days. Doc Connors is making me a set of veneers to—uh—keep them in place."

May hugged him again. "Don't you worry about that, Peter. You're still you, and that's what matters. None of these things change who you are inside."

But she was wrong. He had instincts and other desires that were definitely not human. Peter knew that. He had known for a long time now. He had even tried to explain them to her when she had first learned about his being Spider-Man, but she had only really understood his spider sense.

He didn't try to explain them now.

"All right," she said. "What do you want for lunch, then? Pasta? Chinese food?"

"Oh, um," Peter started, caught off guard by the question. "Maybe Chow Mein? I was kind of in the mood for noodles anyway."

She gave his shoulder one last squeeze before pulling her keys out of a pocket. "Good choice! I'll be back in a few."

Offering a grateful smile, Peter went to put his suit away in his room. On his way, he couldn't help but feel suddenly exposed.

There used to be a constant veil between him and the rest of the world. Not a soul had known he was Spider-Man, and he had handled everything on his own. So even when he didn't have his physical mask on, he always had a suit of lies to maintain. And somehow, that had been easier. Because even though he felt like he was responsible for the entire city, he knew he wasn't causing anyone else to worry. He was responsible for himself, and he was fine with that. It had allowed him to become comfortable with his new abilities.

But now it seemed like everyone knew. And as much as he appreciated the help and the support, he wished he hadn't given all of his secrets away now. It felt like everyone could see through him, but they still weren't really seeing him. Fury, Connors, the team . . . maybe even May. They seemed to think that, because they knew all of his secrets, they knew him completely. Yet none of their words of comfort actually comforted him. Nobody offered the reassurances he was looking for deep down inside.

Unfortunately, that included himself too. While none of it felt right, he couldn't possibly describe what he was really looking for. Couldn't say why his stomach felt like it was twisting in knots most of the day.

However, he still had one secret. One that he would keep no matter what.

Speter! The little spider greeted happily the moment he opened his closet door. Peter pulled the box out.

"Hey, girl!" A relaxed smile formed on Peter's lips, the biggest that day. "How have you been, cooped up in here?"

Okay. Calm. The words were accompanied by a mental image of the spider sleeping peacefully in the dark. Peter didn't freak out this time as he blinked the image away. It was just a relief to know she was happy here right now.

"Aren't you wordy now?" he commented proudly. He was quite sure that the joy that followed wasn't entirely his own.

Okay, it was still disconcerting, but now it was old news. Although the fact that he was starting to get used to this was disturbing in its own right.

He heard May leave through the front door. At last he collapsed onto his bed, gently placing the box beside him so he could look at the spider inside. "Would you mind if I took a load off on you?"

Load?

"Like, to unload. Um . . . to talk about something, or a lot of somethings, that are upsetting you. It helps you feel better. Calmer."

Okay! Unload. Calm Speter.

Peter smiled again. As he recounted the day's events, it all seemed a lot more bearable, even if the spider only understood a small fraction of what he said. Considering he had only been at Shield for a few hours, he finished long before May came back. But he did have trouble coming to a conclusion.

" . . . and that's when she said . . . she said . . . and I . . ."

May's words were still bothering him, even though he was absolutely sure she didn't really mean them the way his mind kept understanding them. But he wasn't sure how he felt about it either way, and he sure didn't know how to put any of that into words, and was it really necessary to when the spider didn't understand anyway?

Speter hurt.

The words cut through his mental rambling like butter.

"I'm not physically hurt," he said halfheartedly.

Thoughts hurt. She elaborated.

He looked at her. "M—Maybe I am," he admitted.

So that meant without a doubt that there was some sort of two-way mental link between them. And somehow, that thought was far more comforting than he had thought it would be this morning. For one thing, it meant teaching the spider really would be much easier than it otherwise might have been. Out of curiosity, he mentally thanked her for being so understanding. She sent a wave of happy calm back.

Peter didn't appreciate most things he had gotten from the jungle, but maybe the spider wasn't so bad after all.