Chapter 9: I Hadn't Thought of That
At this point, classes have started for me. I'm glad most of my classes are remote. Call me a worrywart, but I'd rather not miss a semester because I'm in the hospital. I don't know how classes may affect these updates, but this is at least a very busy chapter. Inspiration struck me, and it hits hard.
Pink Lemonade: These things always have a habit of getting away from us, don't they? Here I was thinking this might be 20k tops, and I just noticed it's already twice that, and the end is nowhere in sight! I'm in utter shock right now. Ah, but I'm going to have so much fun with those two characters!
Em jeet: No (nods head). Yes (shakes head). You'll see ;)
Guest: Thank you so much! If you like that, then you might like the end of this chapter too . . .
Peter sat in one of the stiff-backed chairs in Fury's office. The chairs were rarely used, only brought out for exceedingly long meetings or the few friends of the director. Or, as in this case, when a guest was recovering from a concussion.
Truth be told, that last one was usually the only reason Peter ever got to sit in this office. If Sam wasn't already the Bucket Head of the team, Peter might have considered asking for a helmet to wear over his mask.
He had a sudden fleeting image of Spider-Man in a football helmet and comically huge protective gear.
Nah, that just wouldn't work.
Fury sat at his desk, hands steepled. The vein in his temple was visibly pulsing. The team stood next to the desk, staring down at Peter. All of their masks were off so he could see the harsh glares they were giving him. Ava's glare was the worst, although it wasn't nearly as bad as he had expected.
Out of everyone, she had the most right to be angry. He had lied to her directly about this.
Peter hunched in the chair, feeling quite small. Why did everyone look so much taller just because he was sitting? Fury was sitting too! He shouldn't seem so extra imposing!
"I am told," Fury began, voice forcibly even, "that you have a reason for why you were on an unscheduled patrol fighting against Taskmaster alone."
"It—It wasn't a patrol," Peter said quietly. He cleared his throat to speak a little louder. "I've been going to a store on that street recently, and I overheard a guy and a girl talking about meeting someone in that alley. It sounded suspicious, but I never knew Taskmaster was involved! I never heard any details! I was thinking more along the lines of some mundane scenarios like dealing drugs or joining a gang." He paused. "Well, relatively mundane scenarios, I guess. Or maybe not really mundane at all. I also have a feeling that they might have powers."
"Why didn't you tell Shield about this?" Fury asked.
Peter shrugged. "I . . . wasn't sure, I guess. I didn't think a few snippets of eavesdropping warranted a full Shield investigation into their lives."
"That's exactly what Shield is for, Parker. Most of our info comes from overheard conversations and spying. Not every villain yells their plans from the rooftops."
"Oh," was all Peter could say for a moment. He hadn't thought about it that way. "But still, I'm sure not every clue is connected to a full-blown villain attack. What were the odds that Taskmaster happened to be involved? I just saw him last week and—"
It hit Peter that the last time he had seen Taskmaster was in the Savage Lands incident. He had been trying to recruit Ka-Zar with Kraven then. That should have given Peter the hint that he was, in fact, still trying to recruit young supers.
He really needed to work on his detective skills.
"I see you've noticed the pattern," Fury said dryly. He then released a large breath that might have been a sigh. "But I suppose I have been less than forthcoming about Taskmaster recently. Perhaps it's time to bring you all up to speed."
Fury clicked a few buttons on his computer and a holo-display lit up behind him. It showed a list of names and faces. Ka-Zar's picture was there. And Adrian's. Peter also recognized Ty and Tandy. He didn't say a word yet.
"Who are those people?" Luke asked.
"Shield has been keeping track of some gifted young individuals. Some of them seem promising as future agents. Others may just be too dangerous to leave to their own devices. They have all proven difficult to reach though. Worse than that, it appears Taskmaster has compiled a similar list. I fear he may be responsible for why we've lost track of a few of these kids."
"So that's why you had me get Ka-Zar," Peter said. "Is he one of the promising ones?"
"He is, in fact. He and Zabu are a formidable pair, although they're nowhere near field ready."
"How many do you believe Taskmaster has reached?" Danny asked.
"We don't have a definite number yet, but—" The picture of Vulture enlarged. "—Adrian Toomes has dropped off the map in the past few days. He had been avoiding our attempts to contact him before that."
"Not Adrian! We just saved him from Doc Ock not too long ago!" Sam pouted.
"Agents are still investigating, but it doesn't look good." Fury turned his full attention back to Peter. "Are those two teenagers you spoke to on this list?"
Peter hesitated a second, but at this point it was a no-brainer. Taskmaster already had his sights on them. "Those two," he pointed.
"Cloak and Dagger, Tyrone Johnson and Tandy Bowen," Fury said, enlarging their pictures and their short bios. "Their powers are mystical in origin, although we're not sure of everything they can do. Sources say Cloak can teleport and Dagger can produce blades of light. We do know they've been using those powers to break up drug rings."
"Oh, cool." Peter brightened. "They're already fighting bad guys. And they've got awesome names. They'd be ideal to recruit for Shield."
"Dagger, potentially. I have my reservations about Cloak. He's too much of a wildcard, and we believe his powers come from a Dark source."
"But if he's doing good—"
"Some of the drug cartel members he's fought are in a catatonic state today. Scared into insanity."
"Oh . . . that's not so good."
Fury clicked another button, and more images of Ty and Tandy filled the display. In these, they appeared to be in costume, their Cloak and Dagger personas.
Tandy was dressed in a white jumpsuit. As Dagger, the moon-shaped mark around her right eye was bright and clearly visible. Peter refrained from saying 'aha!'. He knew she had had a strange mark there.
Ty, on the other hand, had a completely opposite color scheme going on. True to his name, he wore a cloak. It was black striped with even darker black, if that was possible. He wore a hood low over his head and his eyes shone blinding white. In pictures where the cloak flapped outward, it only revealed pure shadow beneath.
Peter could see how he could come across as a little evil looking.
"They both sounded nice when I heard them talking," he offered.
"Perhaps we could have given him a chance, but now it looks like Taskmaster already has them both," Fury said, voice hard.
"Hey! You just admitted you kept us in the dark! I had no way to know their background!"
Fury turned off the display. "You're right. That's why I won't penalize you. Today."
"Director," Ava said respectfully. "It sounds like one of your most successful recruitments was when Peter convinced Kazar to stay."
Fury considered her for a moment. "That would be correct."
"Why don't you assign us to help you, then? We're living proof that it's beneficial to be teenage Shield agents."
"Teenagers guiding teenagers is not always the safest route."
"Ava has a point though, sir," Luke said. "Teenagers are at least more likely to listen to someone their own age. Besides, listening to one of Pete's responsibility spiels is enough to convince anyone to do good."
"Thanks, although I do resent you calling them spiels," Peter muttered. "Way to make me sound like your friendly neighborhood salesman."
"I'll think about it," Fury said. "For now, get Parker back to the Med Bay so Connors can make sure his concussion is clearing up."
"Wait a second," Sam cut in. "We never heard the explanation for these." He hefted the bag of Peter's purchases.
"Is that really more important than my brain health right now?" Peter tried.
"Your concussions always heal fast," Sam said dismissively. "Come on, Webs, I think we all know what this means anyway."
Peter could feel the color rising in his cheeks. This felt ten times more embarrassing than Flash's teasing earlier. Because unlike Flash's misinformed deductions, this was entirely true.
But how much truth did he have to say? He didn't have to mention anything about Phoebe. He couldn't say anything about Phoebe, not if he wanted her to live past tonight. The moment Peter breathed a word about her, Fury would probably send that cleanup team back to his house. So he would have to say that he had bought all the bugs for himself.
Except . . . oh no. This was the one time he bought live bugs. And that was four buckets anyway! Granted, they were supposed to last all week, but still, his team would just see their leader buying a bunch of bugs to eat.
What would they think of him?
Scratch that. Sam was right, the evidence already pointed in one direction. They were already thinking how gross he was.
Yet . . . they didn't really look grossed out. Sam was grinning. Luke had a raised eyebrow. Ava looked curious. Danny looked at peace with everything, like he usually did.
Maybe they wouldn't be quite as disturbed as he originally assumed.
"I—um—well—did you know insects contain a very large amount of protein?"
"You really do eat them?" Luke asked, beginning to look a little disgusted.
"Mostly just for the nutrients. I—They fill me. They're a good late-night post-patrol snack."
"Do you, like, crave them?" Sam asked, grin still on his face.
Peter looked down at his hands in his lap, picking at his gloves. "No more than I crave sweets and stuff," he said in a small voice.
"So you do like them," Sam confirmed. "Man, I've never tried eating bugs before! At least, not Earth ones. Are they good?"
"Um, yeah, I guess."
"How long have you been enjoying this delicacy?" Danny asked.
"Just the past few days."
"So your craving for insects began last week?" Fury deduced. Peter saw where he was going with that line of questioning.
"Yes, but I think that's only because I tried it for the first time last week."
"You've been Spider-Man for this long and you just tried eating insects?" Sam asked incredulously.
"Well, yeah . . ."
"If I was you, I'd—"
"You don't think this has anything to do with your incident in the Savage Lands?" Fury interrupted, ignoring Sam, like usual.
"I'm pretty sure it's not related." Aside from the fact that Phoebe was the one who introduced him to insects, but he wasn't about to say that.
"Mention that to Connors too. See how this may affect your nutrition. Aside from that, you're dismissed."
Peter stood, and the team filed out of the office. Sam hardly wasted a second.
"What kind are they? Can I try one?"
"Uh—crickets. And sure, yeah, if you really want to," Peter said, slightly bemused. He had expected Sam to be annoying in a different way. "One of them is already opened."
Sam pulled out the specified bucket. "Crickets, huh? Cool!" He put one in his mouth. "Ew, they're so crunchy and gooey at the same time! Luke, I double dog dare ya!" He threw the bucket and Luke caught it.
"You say that as if this is really intimidating." Luke took one. "Anyone else want to try one before Sam dares you to?"
Danny and Ava each took a cricket. Luke then shook the bucket toward Peter. Peter didn't take one right away.
"You guys really don't have to do this just because of me."
"We're not. We're doing this because Sam won't rest until we eat at least one. Go on."
"I really won't let this go," Sam agreed, picking at his teeth. "Hey Pete, how do you get the gunk out of your teeth?"
Peter took a cricket. "I floss. You have heard of flossing, right?"
Sam stuck his tongue out at him.
"This better not make me puke," Ava said warningly.
"You eat bloody red meat," Sam countered. "I have now tried both and I think yours is way worse."
Somewhat synchronously, Danny, Luke, and Ava popped their crickets in their mouths. Peter followed. The crunch and ensuing squish were quite pleasing in his opinion, regardless of how embarrassed he was by that right now. This opinion was obviously not shared by all of his teammates.
"Not bad, I guess," Luke said, although the way his face twisted betrayed other feelings.
"Not puke-worthy, I guess," Ava conceded, although she gagged a little.
"I have had better crickets," Danny said.
"You've eaten crickets before?" Peter asked.
"Yes, on various trips to India as well as Egypt and the Middle East. They make all sorts of insects, all quite good." Danny frowned thoughtfully. "I also enjoyed some roasted spiders, which I do regret now."
"That wouldn't offend Pete," Sam said. "Spiders are cannibals. Maybe we should buy some for him."
"No thanks. I really mostly eat these for the nutrients," Peter insisted as they entered the Med Bay. "I swear I feel fuller when I eat a handful or so. And anyway, don't mention the roasted spider thing to Goblin or Kraven. I have a feeling that would inspire them far too much."
"Who would be inspired?" Dr. Connors asked as he looked up from a microscope. "Ah, Peter. How are your injuries?"
Peter hopped up onto the bed. "I'm fine. You probably just need to change the bandage. It stopped bleeding now."
"Great! Now you see why I prefer you guys to work as a team?" Connors asked. "You get far fewer injuries then."
"I swear I wasn't expecting to get into a fight!"
"I know, I'm only teasing. All of you get hurt anyway."
"Hey!" Luke said indignantly. "I never get serious injuries!"
"Okay, almost all of you get hurt anyway."
Connors gave Peter a more in depth physical now. Peter was right, all he needed were new bandages. The bruises on his stomach would be gone by morning and there was no further evidence of concussion. They were done within minutes. And Connors hardly batted an eye when Peter mentioned the new addition to his diet. The doctor was actually glad Peter had found a way to get more nutrients.
So now May was the only one who didn't know. Again.
Peter felt like an awful nephew.
He stood, ready to get home and face May, but Connors put a hand on his shoulder.
"One second, there's one more thing I'd like to discuss. The rest of you might want to know too. It's about Peter's—you know—spider puberty."
Sam and Luke chuckled. Peter put a hand over his face. "Can we please not call it that?"
"My apologies. It's just a very fitting name."
"Right, well, what is it?" Peter asked almost hesitantly. He would have preferred this conversation to be more private, but Connors would only insist the team stay if it was something they needed to know about. What could it be, then?
"Remember how I said I would be monitoring your DNA to try to predict when anything else happens?"
The entire team nodded.
"Well, I took advantage of your wound to take a sample of your blood, and I've been noticing a trend these past few days. On a related note, do you know how little progress has been made sequencing spider DNA?"
"Just barely enough that you're able to identify the trend?" Peter asked hopefully. At this point, he wanted to know to appease both his worry and his curiosity.
Connors nodded. "Yes, actually, probably because it's such a common and important feature in spiders. Do you also remember how I said your fangs are hollow, but I wasn't sure if you would develop venom?"
"Yeah, you're not saying . . ."
"Now I'm sure you're going to develop venom glands in the next few days."
Peter's jaw dropped, which had the unwanted effect of extending his fangs. "You have got to be kidding me!"
"Wait, like Venom venom or regular venom?" Sam asked.
"Regular venom," Connors said. "The symbiote Venom is an entirely different substance."
"What counts as regular venom?" Peter asked. "Do you know what it'll do? How strong it will be?"
"Well, no, I won't know any specifics until I can get a sample. I was only using Sam's term. If it's anything like 'regular' spider venom, then it will probably act as a neurotoxin or cause necrotic lesions."
"Aren't neurotoxins used in chemical weapons like nerve agents?" Luke said.
"Yes, but there are all sorts of different neurotoxins and each do slightly different things. They all affect the brain though, hence the name. Common effects are slurred speech, lack of coordination, and pain."
Peter slumped. "That doesn't sound good at all."
"What is a necrotic lesion?" Danny asked. "It sounds like death might be involved."
Peter felt the blood drain from his face. He remembered that term from his spider research. "That sounds worse."
"Not necessarily. It's just cell death in the area immediately surrounding the bite. I'd say neurotoxins are the worst of the two."
"But either way, Pete can't go around biting people," Sam concluded.
"I don't bite people anyway!" Peter asserted.
Sam shrugged, leaning against the wall. "I'm just saying."
"I just wanted all of you to know, just in case," Connors said. "I'll be telling Fury next."
Peter understood why. If, for whatever insane reason, he managed to inject someone with his venom, the team needed to be ready to act.
"Right," he said, sighing. "So . . . any idea of how or when this is going to happen?"
"I'm sorry I can't give you anything that precise," Connors said sincerely. "My best guess would be that small glands would form right above your fangs in more than two days but probably less than a week. Once they do form completely, I'll take the samples to analyze and create an antivenom."
"Okay, thanks Doc."
"Don't look so down about it. I'm sure you'll hardly notice the difference at all."
That didn't make Peter feel better. It just meant he would hardly be able to tell if he was suddenly deadly. Or deadlier than usual, he supposed. His strength alone was enough to be lethal, which was exactly why he pulled most of his punches. This was really just another thing he would have to be careful about.
The room was silent for a moment.
"Well," Connors said somewhat awkwardly. "I'll just go tell Fury now. I'll see you all around." He left.
"Anyone wanna play a late-night basketball game?" Sam asked.
"No, I want to get some sleep," Luke said, yawning.
"As would I," Danny agreed.
"Whatever, that just means I can't lose," Sam muttered.
Saying their goodbyes, the guys left for their quarters. Ava stayed, watching Peter. He looked back at her warily.
"You're upset at me, aren't you?" Peter guessed.
"Yeah," she said. "You lied to me specifically. I would have gone with you if you told me. Sure, then we would have both been in trouble and I probably would have been upset at you anyway, but . . . it's the principle of the matter, I guess."
"I thought I would just have to show my masked face. I know you really aren't a fan of using our publicity."
"That's true." Ava kept staring at him, studying him. "Were you going to tell me about the bug thing too?"
Peter shrugged, beginning to sweat under her gaze. "Eventually, sure. Our conversation was kind of cut short today."
"That's true too."
This time she didn't ask another question. Peter waited patiently, wondering where she was going with this. Was she going to call off their future chats on senses? She didn't look that upset. She looked more curious than anything else. Maybe she wanted to have another chat right now?
Peter was just making wild guesses at this point. He really had no idea how to read any girl, let alone Ava.
At last she moved, grabbing the plastic bag Sam had left. Rifling through it, she pulled out the bucket of live bugs. Peter grimaced.
"You like them moving too?" she asked.
His mind raced. Did he dare lie to cover up another lie? Wasn't that what usually cracked most cover stories in movies? But he couldn't let his friends' perception of him vary too much from the truth. Peter didn't want to receive gifts of live insects for his birthday.
"Uh—no, I haven't even tried them live yet. I guess I bought the wrong package."
"Four buckets," Ava said next, hefting the bag. "How long should that last you?"
"Weeks, definitely. I only eat a few a day."
"You confessed to this really easily."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? You're literally holding the evidence in your hand."
"Your aunt is going fishing next weekend. You could have said you were buying bait for her."
Ah, he hadn't thought of that. "Wait, you wanted me to keep lying about it?"
"You also didn't make any jokes about it," Ava continued. "You've been very serious."
"I thought you wanted me to be more serious as the leader. I'm getting really mixed signals here."
"I'm just getting the feeling that you're still covering something up."
Peter did his very best not to look guilty. "But I told you everything." That I could, went unsaid.
"Maybe I'm just reading too much into this," Ava conceded. "Or maybe it's something personal that honestly doesn't matter. But if it's anything else, at least one other person needs to know. And I do owe you a favor."
One sentence stuck out to Peter: at least one other person needs to know. It reminded him of his aunt and uncle's conversations when he was younger. They both worked, so they always had to have at least one person on call to watch Peter in case they had to take overtime. That made Peter realize he had no nannies for Phoebe. If Taskmaster had succeeded in capturing him, Phoebe wouldn't have gotten breakfast in the morning. She might not even have gotten dinner depending on what sort of stronghold Taskmaster had this time.
Maybe he did have to tell at least one other person about Phoebe's existence. But could Ava be that person? Even if she 'owed' him, she was a stickler for rules. Although, having a spider wasn't really against the rules . . .
"Maybe you're right about it being a personal thing," Peter said carefully. "Would you really keep it a secret if I told you?"
"Well, it depends."
"I promise it's nothing bad or extreme. So if you really want to know, I guess I'd be willing to show you."
Ava folded her arms. "Show me? Why can't you just say it now?"
"Because it's one of those things where it's a lot easier for you to believe me if you see it for yourself."
Ava thought about that for a minute. "Okay . . . where is this secret?"
"My room."
"Does Aunt May know about it?"
"No, but you'll see why."
"I'm having a really hard time imagining what it could be."
"Want to try Twenty Questions? It's not larger than a breadbox." For now.
"No thank you. I'll just wait to see it. I really do have to study with Danny tomorrow after patrol though. How about I come over to your place the next day?"
"Sounds good."
"Great, I'll be there." Ava threw the bag at him as she walked to the door. Peter caught it easily. "Oh, and by the way, Pete. My fangs are definitely more impressive than yours."
She tapped the amulet on her hip. Its eyes glowed green, and so did hers briefly. Her pupils became slits. Her nails extended into claws. And when she opened her mouth to laugh, her upper and lower fangs were huge.
Peter remained staring at the doorway for some time after she left, mouth slightly agape.
Again, Peter slowly entered his house through the front door, despite how his earlier plans would have had him sneaking in through his window. Again, he found the bright green slippers waiting for him. Again, he looked up into a disappointed face. Again, his stomach churned.
Again, he had bad news.
But this time, he would really rather prefer to think of it as just news. This was going to be his new norm, after all.
A really disconcerting new norm.
"Didn't we have a discussion," May began, "just last week when I said the whole reason I was letting you do this was so that you wouldn't be alone?"
"I know. I'm sorry, May. I really didn't think this would be anything more than showing my face to intimidate them," Peter said for what felt like the millionth time.
"You don't have to solve every problem yourself, you know. That's what your team is there for. That's what all of Shield is for! Your job is not to protect the entire world!"
"I've ended up doing that a few times anyway," Peter said, trying for a smile. His aunt did not return it. "But you're right. I've already promised Fury that I'll call it in next time."
May stared at him for a few more seconds, hands on her hips. At last, her shoulders relaxed. "I'm sorry, honey. I just worry so much when you go out. I don't want to have to worry about you heading out on your own at any moment. Not again, Peter."
He bowed his head, glancing at the bag in his hand. "I understand."
"Come here." May stepped forward to envelop him in a hug. "I can never really be mad at you when you make me so proud. Just please tell me next time. We agreed; no more secrets."
Calm in her arms, Peter waited a second to say what he had to. "Then there's something else I need to tell you. Two somethings, really."
May pulled away to face him. She blinked in that way she did whenever she saw his eyes without the contacts, the same way Peter sometimes blinked at himself when he saw green instead of blue.
"What is it? You're not hurt, are you?"
"No, only minor injuries thankfully. Connors can vouch for me. But I promised to tell you if anything else . . . spidery is going to develop."
May's features crumpled, more disappointed. "Is it anything really serious?"
That made Peter think. What exactly would count as serious? Weren't most bodily mutations serious? Besides, he was serious when he decided just now that he wanted to consider this as normal. He couldn't keep freaking out every time something 'serious' came up. If he did, he would have a heart attack before he graduated high school.
Maybe he should start with the less serious of the two anyway.
"I've been adding some protein to my diet," he said quietly, showing his aunt one of the packages. Her brow furrowed.
"You . . . you eat bugs now?" she asked, as if unsure if that was the correct conclusion.
It suddenly felt ten times harder for Peter to speak. He looked away. "I—well—in a word, yes. It's not like I think they taste super great though," he added hurriedly. "They just satisfy my large appetite pretty well."
"Is this why you haven't been eating as many snacks during the day?"
"Yes," he said, slightly surprised. He hadn't known the effect was noticeable yet. "I thought it would help with the grocery bills. You know, since I could eat a whole box of crackers on my own in one sitting. You won't need to go shopping as much." With some effort, he looked his aunt in the eye again. She still looked confused.
"When did this start? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Well, it's weird. And I didn't want you to feel like you had to cook with bugs or something. They're just my little pick-me-up," Peter said in a rush.
"You don't need to sound so ashamed," May said comfortingly, rubbing his upper arm. "We both already knew you need a special diet for your metabolism. If this keeps you from being hungry all the time, I don't mind at all. And I think insects are probably much healthier than chips."
"Connors thinks the protein can help my healing factor too."
"All the better! Are you sure you don't want me to try to incorporate these into our meals? I'm sure there are some good recipes online."
"I don't want you to have to eat them too. The team already tried some, and they all agree they're not very good."
"But do you like them this way? I can spice them up to mask the flavor."
That idea had never occurred to Peter. "I think they're fine the way they are," he admitted.
"Nonsense! I can make them sweet and salty, or with garlic, or even Thai chili!"
"No," Peter said firmly, startling them both. He felt his cheeks heating up again. "Really, May, I like them plain."
"Oh, okay," May said. Was it Peter's imagination, or did her voice sound a little hollow, as if she couldn't fathom the thought? "I'll have to try one myself, then."
"You don't have to." Peter put the package back in the bag. He didn't need to see her gag right now. He didn't want to be reminded that it was an acquired taste, acquired from the spider bite.
"All right. So what's the other thing you wanted to tell me?"
Peter found his lips hard to move now. If he enunciated the next sentence understandably, it was only because he had to carefully force his mouth to say the words in the first place. "Dr. Connors thinks my fangs are going to get venom within the week."
"Oh, no, venom?"
Her tone made Peter's heart drop. "Yes, he's not sure what it'll do though."
"Will it be in glands, like a snake?"
Why a snake? Peter wondered. He was inheriting this from spiders. "Probably, yeah."
"Do you think Dr. Connors would be able to surgically remove them?"
That idea hadn't occurred to Peter either. "I—I don't know."
"I've been thinking all week," May explained. "I know eyes are delicate so there's probably not much to be done about that. But there are dental implants. You could potentially have the fangs removed. Then you wouldn't have to deal with those veneers anymore."
Peter was silent. Despite how he had bemoaned all of these changes, he had never considered removing them. The thought that Connors could potentially help him. . . did not relieve him as much as he had expected. He couldn't imagine going through surgeries just to appear outwardly normal.
Because that's all that would do, wasn't it? He'd still be enjoying crickets and crawling on walls. Was it worth going to such lengths to change just a few parts of him? His problem wasn't a few relatively minor additions. His biggest issue was the fact that he was part spider, and nothing short of removing all of his powers would fix that.
With great power came great responsibility, but now that he was used to the responsibility, Peter didn't know what he would do if he lost his powers. He would still have the skills, even if he didn't have the strength. He'd probably insist on using the Iron Spider suit to continue patrolling. But then he'd be in more danger without his spider sense.
With great responsibility, great power made things easier.
Besides, behaviors were built into the brain. Would all of those instincts go away just because his DNA went back to normal? He didn't know.
And anyway, that was supposing that changing his DNA back to normal was even possible. Connors didn't think it was. Maybe, deep down, Peter understood he was stuck like this. Or did he just want to stay like this? Maybe he just didn't mind as much as he pretended to. But shouldn't he be extremely bothered that he was becoming less and less human?
Maybe May was right. Maybe he was already losing sight of what mattered.
"I'll ask Doc Connors tomorrow, see what he says," Peter said noncommittally.
"And you'll let me know the moment you think you have venom, right?"
"Of course."
May smiled. "Good. Now get to bed. You still have school tomorrow." She planted a kiss on his forehead. "Good night, Peter."
"Good night, Aunt May."
Peter did not fall asleep until hours later. This did not mean he didn't have a good night.
That didn't mean it wasn't bad either.
He did try to sleep. Any lack of sleep was not for lack of trying. When Peter first entered his room, he gave Phoebe some crickets and regretfully told her that he couldn't let her out tonight. Phoebe was disappointed, but she didn't press the matter further.
So Peter got into his bed, and closed his eyes, and counted sheep, and twisted and turned, and remained completely awake. Over an hour later, he even decided to try to listen in on Phoebe's thoughts. After several minutes of deep focus, he was able to hear snippets of her playing in the closet.
Both he and Phoebe were very awake. Peter knew better than to think this was a coincidence at this point. He grabbed his phone.
There wasn't much research on spider sleep, but it was known that most spiders were nocturnal. And scientists speculated that spider sleep wasn't nearly as deep as human sleep, allowing the spider to remain mostly aware of their surroundings while in a relaxed state.
Peter had briefly been in such a quasi-aware state while waiting for Ty and Tandy's meeting. He had done the same in the last stakeout. And maybe even at school. Had he been taking mini spider naps these past few days? It would explain why he hadn't felt tired, even when he stayed up late teaching Phoebe.
This was one development Connors hadn't been able to warn him about.
Part of Peter was happy he no longer had to be exhausted at school. Harry and MJ wouldn't question the bags under his eyes anymore. But another part of him was disturbed that even his sleep cycle was being affected by his spider side. May had asked him to sleep, and he couldn't even do that for her.
Speter? Phoebe's voice was tentative.
Peter got out of bed. He didn't bother turning on any lights as he brought the terrarium out of the closet again. She looked up at him.
"Hey, Phoebe."
Why water? she asked.
"What water?"
Speter water.
Peter wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "That's . . . that's called crying. I don't really want to talk about it right now, though."
Speter want unload?
"I'm fine. I have a question for you. How do you feel when you sleep?"
Sleep feel calm.
"Do you . . . do you dream?"
Dream?
"It's like playing pretend, imagining things, except you're asleep, so you're not really choosing what you're pretending."
Phoebe's front legs lifted slightly in her approximation of a shrug. Phoebe not sure. Phoebe play pretend a lot.
So there wasn't much of a difference between sleep and wakefulness for Phoebe. Peter wished he had known sooner. He would have made sure the room was extra dark and quiet for her.
"Do you want to sleep right now?"
No.
"Do you want to try a live cricket, then?"
The joy she sent almost felt foreign to him. Yup!
Peter carefully opened the jar. It almost worked well. A single cricket shot out. Peter instantly caught it between two fingers. Instinctively.
He quickly dropped it into the Jungle Box.
It turned out Phoebe wasn't very good at catching a moving target. She ran at least a dozen laps around the terrarium. She had fun the entire time. Watching her try her best went a long way in making Peter feel better.
When she began to slow down, Peter suggested she put some silk across one section and chase the cricket into it. Her web was clumsy, but it got the job done. She radiated pride as she ate her prize.
She didn't ask to share this time. Peter appreciated that.
"Did you like it?"
Yup! Live bug joy!
Peter smiled. "That's great. I'm glad you had fun. Are you sleepy now?"
Yup. Speter sleepy?
"Yeah, I think so," Peter replied, somewhat surprised by his own answer. His clock said it was almost four o'clock. Apparently, spider naps couldn't completely replace sleep. He just hoped he was still capable of normal human sleep.
Perhaps his worries were a bit silly. He had just slept last night, after all, and he hadn't noticed anything strange about it. But he did enjoy dreaming, and he would really rather prefer to retain that ability.
He didn't want to be stuck alone with his thoughts all night.
"Goodnight, Phoebe."
Goodnight, Speter.
Peter put her Jungle Box back into the closet, placing a thicker jacket over it this time to better muffle any noises that might wake Phoebe up. He then got back into his bed, relieved to find himself slowly drifting off to sleep. It didn't take long for dreams to begin and his conscious brain to switch off.
He may have been less relieved if he knew his eyes never closed.
Deep in the city, a man dressed in furs sat at his tiger skin covered table. A smile was on his face; a happy, ominous smile.
He had just returned home after watching Taskmaster and some new cat-themed thief beat Spider-Man, which was always a treat. But better than that, he had analyzed Spider-Man's movements, and he was sure now that there was still a little bit of savageness left in him. The boy was holding back though, which was perhaps the only reason he had lost.
Kraven now knew what a true attack from Spider-Man felt like. Even today he still had the bruises to prove it.
And so Kraven was intrigued. He was no scientist, but even he had to wonder what would happen after he administered another round of the poison. He wondered what would happen without another dose. Would Spider-Man eventually give in to his instincts? Could he perhaps be pushed to that point? That might prove helpful if Kraven lost his last remaining vials of the poison . . .
That sounded like psychological warfare though, not hunting. But perhaps the two were essentially interchangeable when it came to hunting sentient beings. Humans were smarter than animals after all. They couldn't be tricked quite as easily. But after the mind was broken, they really were no different from animals.
Kraven hadn't really thought of it that way before. But what an exciting idea it was!
With that smile still on his face, he grabbed a falcon quill, dipping it into his squid ink. On a piece of fine sheepskin parchment, he wrote the heading: Backup Plan #1.
