Chapter 48: Eight-Legged Dreams

Sorry if this is abrupt, but I really didn't think I would manage to wrap up so soon.

I did. This is it. This is the last chapter of Stow Away.

I don't know how to feel about that. Part of me feels like I should've pushed to reach chapter 50. The other part of me likes that 48 has the number 8 and 49 has a square root.

There will still be an epilogue/"post-credit scene" and (hopefully) a surprise (if I can get myself to sit down and complete it). But that will be short, less than 1000 words if I can get myself to be concise. I probably won't post that until after the new year because life and finals. And then the sequel will come at some point. Not sure when yet, but it will most likely be called "Hide Away". On AO3 it'll be paired with Stow Away in a series.

On a happier note, happy December holidays!

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dragoscilvio: You know me, always choosing their words carefully ;)

Peter stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was mostly used to his new look. He didn't even really consider it new anymore. It already felt like he'd been this way for ages. Not forever, just a long time.

MJ hadn't run from this face. She hadn't been disturbed by it. She hadn't even told him that she missed his old face.

She said his fangs were adorable.

She appreciated his purring.

She liked him.

Peter still felt a little rumble in his chest whenever he thought of her acceptance.

Because she accepted him. MJ didn't mind his spidery-ness. Of course, she hadn't witnessed the full extent of it yet, but they were off to a great start, far better than Peter had dared to hope.

He brushed his teeth with his cinnamon toothpaste, examining his fangs in a new light. He had viewed them as weapons this whole time, a danger to others. But now he could see how they could be aesthetic. Tandy had called him a vampire elf or whatever, but MJ said they made him look like a puppy or a kitten. A lot of baby animals had fangs too which were very visible when they yawned, but they were still cute and sweet.

MJ thought he was cute and sweet!

When he was done, he went back to his room. He'd already said goodnight to May. Even though he hadn't told her much, she still had a knowing glint in her eye. In a few days, he would ask for dating tips. Until then, he just wanted to relish the idea that MJ wanted to go out with him.

He'd dreamed of asking her out for ages. Most of the time he'd been too afraid that he was too much of a dork. Lately he'd been afraid he was too much of a dork and a freak. A dreak. A frork. A fork?

MJ didn't mind.

Speter joy! Phoebe called excitedly from the closet. MJ Crush make Speter joy?

Peter blushed as he let Phoebe out. He had never heard her call MJ by name or nickname before. "Well, yes. I really like MJ, and now she told me that she likes me back, and that makes me joy."

MJ Crush? What crush? Charlotte asked as she came out from the pile of stuff on the floor. Peter took her in his other hand.

"A crush is when you like someone, but you haven't told them yet. I think. I've never really heard a definition if I'm honest."

Speter found mate, then?

He nearly choked on air. "You're getting ahead of yourself, Charlotte! MJ is still just a friend! But maybe, just maybe, she'll become my girlfriend. And if that goes well, then . . . then I guess marriage is years in the future." He did not want to think that far into the future. "Let's focus on the present and the fact that she doesn't mind me being half spider, okay?"

Okay, Charlotte said. Or, well, she didn't say it. She didn't use as many human words as Phoebe did. She used more concepts and images like the other spiders. Peter just preferred to think in words. Speter too young for mate regardless.

"We can agree on that." Was Charlotte aware of his spider puberty? Peter didn't know, and he wasn't going to ask. "Do you want a cricket tonight?"

No, still full.

Charlotte didn't eat as much as Phoebe. That made sense considering she was several times smaller and an adult. It just felt a little weird to eat in front of her when she hadn't eaten in over a day, especially when she lightly criticized his use of already dead crickets.

Speter play Bug Game? Phoebe asked hopefully.

Peter smiled sadly. "Um, can we wait just a couple more days? I dealt with a lot today already."

Okay. Speter teach Charlotte sky webs?

'Sky webs' was Phoebe's term for constellations. "Of course. We'll show her the basics."

Yay!

They sat by the window for a long while, even though all the images came from an old astronomy book Peter got for his tenth birthday. Charlotte wasn't too interested in the distant balls of flames or the tiny dots on the paper, but Phoebe was so eager to explain everything she could remember, so Charlotte listened patiently. It was very relaxing, although Peter was a little distracted. He kept remembering the warmth in MJ's eyes as she insisted that he wasn't a freak. How she felt in his arms . . .

At least Phoebe and Charlotte didn't know how to tease him about it, so he wouldn't have to deal with teasing until he told the team tomorrow. Because he had to tell them soon. He was probably going to be gushing about MJ for weeks. Maybe even months. Years.

When bedtime came (late, as was his new usual), Peter tucked Phoebe into her bed. Even though she liked warmth, she didn't like to be covered, so there wasn't much actual tucking her in. He simply placed her down and stroked her a bit. She didn't sleep the whole night, but she napped for a while so she could be awake when Peter woke up in the morning.

Charlotte claimed one of his old shoes as her new little burrow home. Apparently wolf spiders preferred little crevices to hide in. She was still thoroughly stuffed by her cricket and was ready to relax. Peter tried to remember the last time he felt stuffed, then remembered that the chicken had come surprisingly close.

No, he wasn't going to let that get to him. He'd eaten the wings today and had been fine! Maybe his fangs had stretched a little, and maybe he felt a teeny tiny urge to dissolve them with his saliva, but he hadn't and that's what mattered. He'd eaten them entirely like a human. He was fine!

Peter settled into his own bed, yawning. He felt sleepier than usual at this time. That might have been due to him only spider napping last night, but he wasn't entirely sure. He had tried to sleep last night, and he certainly hadn't been fully conscious the whole time, but the lack of nightmares or dreams in general made him think he had only spider napped.

This was less human and less fine, but he'd been afraid of what nightmares he would have to deal with. Sue him if he wanted to avoid them for as long as possible.

Tonight, he would sleep though, and maybe he could even keep avoiding those nightmares. Because everything had gone alright, right? He was safe, his identity was safe, his family and friends were safe, Phoebe was safe.

MJ liked him.

MJ liked him!

Actually, hadn't she also used the word 'love'?

She'd said love, hadn't she? Peter had been very distracted by any sort of affection from her, but now that he thought about it . . .

Did that . . . did that mean anything? Had she really meant it? Was she exaggerating? Did she only use the word to make him feel better? Was everything she said just meant to make him feel better?

No . . . no, this was madness. He had to trust her. He'd done his hardest to explain how nonhuman he was, and she'd accepted all that. And if he'd missed something . . . dating wasn't permanent. She could break up with him whenever she wanted to.

Peter rolled over, pulling the covers over his head.

Now he was letting the anxious thoughts come back. Why did this always happen after midnight? Why couldn't he go to bed without worrying about everything in his life? It didn't help that he wasn't even safe—

Peter frowned. If he pushed away the anxious thoughts, he could feel his spider sense thrumming ever so slightly, in the way that meant he should remain alert. He felt unsafe, and he didn't know why.

He poked his head out from the covers, focusing on his spider sense, trying to trace back the issue.

Phoebe. His room. The spiders. What if the spiders came back? What if they realized he didn't want to hurt them, that he was all hiss and no bite? Except he wasn't. What if he did bite? What would Phoebe think of him? He needed to keep them all out. He needed—

No. No! He was not going to put up a web here. He'd decided that long ago, and he wasn't going to change his mind now! The web at Taskmaster's had been a necessity. This wasn't. So. No. It wasn't gonna happen.

He was only going to sleep. That's what he was going to do. On his bed. Without a web.

He was going to sleep.

So his spider sense could shut up any minute now.

He covered his head again, pretending like shutting out the world made him feel safer, even though he wanted nothing more than to feel more, feel if danger was coming.

He remembered when Charlotte had him 'properly' clean his hands with the brush yesterday. That was way too much more feeling. It had been overwhelming. But at the same time, if he could feel vibrations that strongly, then maybe he wouldn't even need a web . . .

No! Avoiding a spider thing by doing another spider thing completely defeated the purpose!

Speter okay? Charlotte asked. He glanced over at the closet where she was squeezing out from underneath the door.

"I'm okay," he whispered. "I just need to calm down a bit."

Charlotte can make web if Speter doesn't want to.

He considered the offer. It was the best of both worlds. His room received a web to scare off other spiders, and he didn't need to make it himself. "Well . . ."

Speter box need web, she insisted. Keep intruders away. Mark territory. Speter need safe space.

He didn't need to mark his territory, but a safe space sounded nice. "If you don't mind, then . . . okay. Thank you."

Peter watched her for a little while as she arranged some small webs by the window and in the corners. She worked methodically but gracefully. Her individual movements were somewhat jerky, but the results were smooth and perfect. Peter wondered if that's how he looked when he made webs as Spider-Man.

Having Charlotte's webs up didn't stop his spider sense, but watching her patterns did make him sleepier. Slowly, he drifted off.

Peter opened his eyes to see the all-too familiar ceiling of his cramped bunk bed. He wanted to be home. He needed to go home.

"Come on, Peter, breakfast time," Adrien said from down below.

Peter got up to follow him. He didn't want to. His body was moving on its own. He couldn't do what he wanted to here. He had to do what was expected of him.

He always had to do what was expected of him.

Adrien led him to the door in the ceiling. The Bird House. Adrien flew up, Peter climbed up, and they emerged in a round clearing in the jungle. A T-Rex came from a gap in the trees, wings flapping and beak opening in a roar.

"Are you ready, Peter?" Adrien asked excitedly.

He was expected to say yes, to attack the T-Rex. But Aunt May shook her head in the distance. He was expected to behave.

His fangs expected a big meal, venom sacs filling quickly. Peter whined at the sudden pressure.

"Do it," Amadeus said from beside him. "I need the data. I need to know how you hunt."

"I don't hunt often," Peter mumbled. His fangs felt too big in his mouth. "Not often enough for you to collect data."

"But I already have plenty of data." Amadeus gestured at the teetering stacks of reports behind him. "Come on, I just want one more."

And suddenly Peter's spider sense spiked. He gasped as Taskmaster came right next to him. But he couldn't run away, because he was expected to stay.

"You did a good job last time," Taskmaster praised kindly. "Why don't you finish the job?"

"J—job?" Peter's fangs were definitely getting in the way of speech now. They refused to retract at all.

"You bit him. You wanted him to hurt. He still wants you to hurt. So finish the job. Neutralize the enemy."

Peter glanced back at Amadeus. Kraven now stood next to him. They watched him so closely, watching the way his fangs twitched, the way he crouched low, ready to strike.

Kraven grinned maliciously. "Such a lovely little spider. I've never stuffed an arachnid before, but there's a first time for everything. I bet Goblin would pay to have you as a trophy on his wall."

"Come home, Peter!" May called from the distance. "Please come home!"

He was expected home. He was expected to attack. He was expected to get what he wanted here.

Peter considered both. He was still angry at Amadeus, but one of them was a more significant threat than the other. He leapt at Kraven. Kraven blocked the first punch, and the second, but couldn't block Peter's other arms. Soon he was down, and Peter's fangs were buried in his skin. The pressure of his venom finally released, and so did his spider sense.

"Great job, Pete!" Tandy clapped. "You did it!"

Peter purred. It felt good to succeed. He wrapped Kraven's body up in silk and ran towards home.

"May, I'm home!" He said. Or he tried to. His fangs were still too big, and now they blocked his voice completely. He hissed in frustration and went to enter through a window.

He paused, staring at the glass, at his reflection. It was him. Brown hair, lightly tanned skin, blue eyes, two arms, no fangs.

It was Peter.

Peter blinked, and everything flipped. He was inside looking out the window, at his reflection. Brown hair, no skin visible, green eyes, six arms, fangs and mandibles.

It was . . . Spider-Man. Or, perhaps more accurately, it was Speter.

It was him.

Peter stared a moment longer before turning around, facing the living room. May was sitting on the sofa. She spotted him and smiled. "Hello, sweetie. How's your day been?"

"Great!" Peter replied with a smile that quickly froze on his face.

He had killed Kraven. Was that great?

"That's wonderful," May continued, not noticing his worry. "What did you do?"

Peter bit his lip. He couldn't tell her what he'd done. Besides, he hadn't done those things. Speter had.

"Peter?" May frowned. "Is something wrong?"

So much was wrong, but he couldn't tell May. He had lost his humanity and his vow to never kill. He was too afraid of losing her too.

A shadow suddenly fell over them. "You can't run from this fear," Ty said.

Peter looked up in time to see Ty's dark cloak swoop over him. There was a brief chill, and then the cloak fell away. The room looked the same, but now May looked scared.

"You're not Peter," she said.

He wasn't. His mood had changed. He was in a spider mood again. The same mood that killed Kraven.

"Tell me who you are," May demanded, towering over him.

He shook his head, pointing at his fangs.

May scowled. "Those fangs. Those eyes. All those spiders!" She tsked and shook her head.

Speter glanced behind him. An army of spiders was coming through. Most were heading straight for his room. Speter hissed, jumping in their way. No one was going to hurt Phoebe! But there were so many of them . . . Maybe, if he just put a few lines down . . .

The moment the first silk strand was up, May gasped. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Speter froze. He couldn't tell her that he had to protect Phoebe. He couldn't tell her anything.

"Get down right this instant! I've already taken care of the pest problem."

The front door opened, and Shield's cleaning crew came in. They sprayed the spiders, and the spiders dropped dead.

"W—wait, no!" Peter managed to force his voice out. Because Peter wasn't gone. He could feel more than one thing at once, and he felt so much at the moment. "Don't hurt them!"

"They're just spiders, sweetie."

"No!" Peter lunged at the first Shield agent, and the next, and the next. They dropped like flies. But there were too many. Changing tactics, he climbed up to the second floor. If he could just get to Phoebe first—

There she was. On the floor. Legs curled up. Unmoving. Charlotte laid next to her. So small. So easy to miss. The Shield agents weren't even looking where they stepped and—

Peter woke up in a cold sweat, screaming, images from his nightmares still flashing in his mind. He went to leap out of bed, realized he was actually on the ceiling, and ended up falling on his way to check on Phoebe. Luckily he was by the wall, so he caught himself before he hit the floor, though he still banged his knee. Hard. He didn't pause as he finally got the closet door open.

"Ph—Phoeb—" he tried to ask, but his throat was constricted. Tears were falling down his face. He tried to ask via their mental link instead. Phoebe are you okay? And you too, Charlotte?

Phoebe okay. Speter okay?

Charlotte okay. What wrong?

Peter tried to breathe as he waited for his eyes to focus. Um—nothing's—nothing is—

He wanted nothing to be wrong, but he wasn't even sure what was going on. Was everything okay? That was just a nightmare, right? He didn't see any Shield agents. And no one else was around.

Only dream, Phoebe assured him. Speter calm.

Phoebe's small dose of calm couldn't do much, but it was enough for Peter to begin regulating his breathing again. His heart was practically beating out of his chest.

Wait, that was knocking on his door.

"Peter? Is everything alright?" May asked from the hallway. "I heard screaming. Are you okay in there?"

Eyes widening in fear, Peter slammed his closet shut. His throat was still tight, almost painfully so. Was he crying? Oh yeah, he'd already noticed the tears. And his throat was tight because it was preoccupied with sobbing.

The lock on his door jiggled, and then May was inside his room. She turned on the light, and Peter accidentally hissed at the brightness. She turned the light back off.

"Peter! I'm sorry! What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?" She knelt by him. When she reached out to touch him, part of Peter wanted to get away, but the rest of him wanted to remain in between her and the spiders.

Her hand reached him, slowly slipped behind him, and began rubbing small circles into his back.

Okay. Okay, that was fine. This was his aunt. Of course she was fine.

Peter realized his thoughts and cried harder. May pulled him closer into a hug, and he let her.

"Shh, shh . . . It was just a nightmare, wasn't it?" she asked softly.

Peter nodded against her. It was just a nightmare. Only a nightmare. None of it—Most of it—The worst parts weren't real.

A horrifying amount of it was true.

"Did you think you were back at Taskmaster's?" May continued to probe.

He nodded again. That was true.

"It's okay, you're not there anymore. You're home. I'm here, and I love you, sweetie."

She loved him. Aunt May loved him. Because he wasn't a spider monster. Not really. Not yet.

Probably since Peter wasn't replying, May settled into silence too. She just continued rubbing his back. After some time, his sobs subsided, and then the tears. Peter didn't speak yet because he had no idea what to say. He was also afraid to test his voice. His fangs weren't out, but if he couldn't speak in real life too . . .

He shivered, and May held him tighter.

"Do you want some hot cocoa?" May broke the silence. "Or some cookies?"

Slowly, Peter shook his head. He didn't want warm liquid in his mouth right now. "N—no thanks," he croaked. Thank goodness. He cleared his throat.

"Do you want to stay up a while and watch TV with me?"

That idea was more tempting. Letting his mind be distracted by mindless television could work. Except that would take Peter away from his room, and right now he needed—

His room needed to be safe. For Phoebe, for Charlotte, for himself.

"No, I'm still tired." Peter pulled away enough to see his aunt's face. She looked so worried. So different from the disgusted face that had ordered that death squad into the house. This May wouldn't do that. Real May would never do that.

"You can sleep in my room for a bit if you need the company."

A small purr escaped him. Yes, real May was nothing like nightmare May. "I think I'll be fine. I—I'm a big boy, May."

She smiled wanly. "I suppose you are. But all of those offers still stand. I won't mind in the slightest if you come to me at any time tonight." She kissed him on the forehead. "Can I at least tuck you in?"

Peter considered declining. He didn't need his bed again tonight. But he remembered the countless nights May had tucked him in after a bad dream and he couldn't say no to a tradition like that. "Okay."

May helped him stand. He winced when his knees stretched out. He must have hit himself pretty hard. There was . . . there were specs of drywall on his pajama pants.

"Oh dear," May said. She was looking at a shadow which was a knee-shaped hole in the wall. "I knew I heard a bang. How did that happen?"

Peter opened his mouth to come up with an explanation but couldn't think of any.

"Did you think you were being attacked?" May asked quietly.

Should he agree? It was true. Even if that's not how the hole was made, it was still true. He nodded.

"Oh sweetie, I wish I could make your fears go away." She hugged him one more time before he got into bed. "Don't worry about it. I'll patch that up tomorrow."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief even as he noted how uncomfortable the mattress felt this time. It was so soft that he could barely feel the vibrations of May's steps, and that bothered him. "Okay, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Just try to get some rest." She carefully pulled the covers up over him. "If you have a nightmare where Taskmaster comes to get you, just imagine me chasing him down with my frying pan."

Peter did imagine that for a moment, and the mental image finally made him smile. "Thanks, May."

She smiled back. "Of course, Peter. Sweet dreams." She gave him one last kiss on his forehead and left.

The moment the door closed, there was a notable shift in his spider sense.

Peter blinked. He—he hadn't even noticed it was still going. And it—it considered Aunt May a threat?

No, maybe it just didn't want him to be disturbed right now. Maybe it wanted him to be alone. Or maybe it was being paranoid again. He had learned it could be paranoid back at Taskmaster's.

It could be untrustworthy. He could be untrustworthy.

Tears threatened to blur his eyesight again. Peter wiped them away and got back out of bed. Going to his closet, he asked Phoebe and Charlotte to come onto his shoulders. Then he faced the room again.

He could still see May's face from the nightmare, yelling at him for putting up just a single strand.

But real May wouldn't . . . she would never . . .

She would never know.

Speter catch bug in web? Phoebe suggested, and it was obvious that she meant it as a positive side effect. But Peter hadn't even considered that possibility yet. What if a fly hit his web in the middle of the night? Would it wake him up? Would he eat it on instinct?

That didn't matter. Safety came first.

Peter crawled up the wall and began his web.

This time took longer, because he was carefully examining his room for every possible point of entry. The door and window could let in his enemies, but each crack in the walls and floor was another way more spiders could get in to harass Phoebe and Charlotte. The hole he had accidentally made in his drywall was even worse. Peter didn't know how long it took him to cover them all, but it was still dark so at least he hadn't spent all night on web-making.

Crouched in the corner, looked over his handiwork. This wasn't the haphazard mess he'd made the first time he was playing around with his webs. This was precise and purposeful.

Maybe it would still look like a mess anyway to anyone else, but no one else would be seeing it, so . . .

Well, Phoebe and Charlotte were seeing it.

Perfect web! Phoebe exclaimed, jumping onto the nearest mass of strands. Peter tensed, fearful of experiencing whatever he'd experienced when Amadeus messed with his webs. But he didn't feel the same way. He could feel Phoebe's movement through the strands, and for a moment it was strange, but the more she moved, the more it brought comfort.

Phoebe not threat or meal, Charlotte told him with what might have been a chuckle. Spiders choose what and who is allowed on web.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. That made sense since he'd let Phoebe onto his web before, and he'd even let Luke hop on too. Maybe, so long as he knew who was entering, he would be okay.

Maybe if Amadeus had simply asked for permission, he wouldn't have been bitten.

May Charlotte enter Speter web?

"Oh, yes, of course. Mi casa es tu casa. Or however you say web in Spanish. Not that you know Spanish. Just feel free to hop on." He placed her on a neighboring strand. At first the vibration sent a shiver up his spine, but he could get used to this one too.

Actually, feeling the two friendly presences was . . . nice. It made the web even more reassuring, because he wasn't the only one who could be alerted by an intruder now.

More than satisfied, Peter grabbed a pillow and blanket and settled in the center of the web. Then he set the pillow aside because he wanted to feel the web as much as possible. Phoebe gladly took the pillow all to herself, snuggling on top.

Charlotte stand guard.

Peter looked over at where she was slowly making her way to a corner. "You don't have to. You can do what you want. I'll be fine now."

Charlotte not tired, not hungry. Protect Speter and Phoebe.

Peter smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

Wrapped in the blanket and secure on his web, Peter thought he must look rather ironic, like a fly caught in a web. A very terrified fly caught in his own web of lies . . .

He was too sleepy though, and the thought seemed more humorous than not. His anxiety had drained away as he made the web, letting his exhaustion shine through. He really was tired. It felt like when he used to get by on four hours of sleep after late night patrols before Shield and May intervened.

Within minutes he was asleep.

And the eight-legged dreams returned from where he'd stowed them away in the back of his mind, stowaways as persistent as Phoebe.

Dreams, not nightmares, because he didn't wake up screaming again that night.

No fun facts for this chapter except that wolf spiders prefer the ground and little alcoves as their homes.

Oh wait, I just noticed I'm posting this on December 8th and it's called Eight-Legged Dreams! Hehehe!

Speaking of which, there is a song of the same title I recommend listening to: Eight Legged Dreams by Unlike Pluto. It is so incredibly perfect for this story and I've been using it to get into the spider writing mood since I discovered it last year! I imagine it playing during the end credits.

Thank you so much for reading! I'll see you all again after the new year!