Darkness encompassed him like a cocoon, surrounding him, welcoming him. He moved through it automatically, not thinking, not feeling and certainly not wanting to feel. He didn't care about himself anymore. This was his legacy, the albatross around his neck, the curse he must bear; for how long, he didn't know, but he was more determined than ever to never let anyone close to him ever again. He would remain forever alone. He was a solitary figure, standing high atop the bridge that he'd watched his best friend and soul mate meet her end upon because he hadn't been fast enough, good enough, to save her, and she'd slipped through his fingers, those super grip digits that stuck to everything. The look in her eyes would forever haunt his dreams, both asleep and awake.
"Earth to Parker! Are you with us?" the principal, Mr. Morita yelled. Peter jerked himself out of his morbid reverie and affixed the middle-aged man with a blank stare. He was beyond caring. It had been months, but he still couldn't move on. "Yes, sir," he said crisply. Even though he was dead inside, there was no reason to be impolite. To be impolite would infer something was wrong.
"This is your new physical education instructor, Natasha Romanoff. Coach Jones was involved in an automobile accident last night. Ms. Romanoff will be filling in for the duration."
Peter looked at the red headed beauty and shrugged nonchalantly. It didn't matter. He faked his way through PE and never had any contact with Coach Jones anyway.
School assembly done, everyone filed out of the gym in groups, except for Peter. He paused in the hallway to adjust his backpack and caught the conversation between Mr. Morita and Ms. Romanoff.
"Is this typical for your school?" she asked briskly. Peter heard rustling and assumed it was paperwork.
"Pretty much," Morita said, "Including Parker being a space case. Can't hardly blame him, though. It's not every day a villain drops your girlfriend off a bridge, and she breaks her neck."
"Gwen Stacy, I presume," Natasha said matter of factly. "I feel for her family. First her dad, then her. That brings me to my presence here. My boss wants me to find out why The Lizard would want to attack a high school."
"By all means. I feel a bit safer knowing that you're here, Natasha," Morita admitted sheepishly.
Natasha watched Peter in gym class. He had to be the clumsiest boy in the entire school, she thought to herself. She watched as a couple of Flash Thompson's buddies tripped him. He stumbled and fell into one of their fists, blackening his eye.
"Guys, lay off," Flash said tiredly as he came up on the scene. Peter had retreated to the top of the bleachers where he sat, alone. "He's had it hard enough since Gwen's death. Give him a break, ok?"
"Oooo, do you like him, Flashie?" One of them sneered. Flash grabbed him by the collar and threatened to punch him.
"No. It's worse. I feel sorry for him," he said flatly. Before he could follow through on his punch, however, Natasha came over, grabbed his arm and pinned it behind his back.
"Mr. Thompson. Two wrongs don't make a right. I don't want to see any of this bullying in my class ever again. Do I make myself clear?" Her voice was brittle yet commanding.
"Yes, ma'am," they chorused and looked down, embarrassed that they had been caught in the act. Flash was no longer their ringleader, and they just weren't very good at being sneaky.
"Now, I just heard the final bell. Get to your busses before I give you detention," she snapped. They bolted for their lockers.
Peter slowly descended the bleachers, kicking his feet out insolently. How he hated this aspect of school.
"Let me see that eye," she commanded, and he obediently stopped. She looked, gently prodding. It looked painful but not debilitating.
"It's not the first time and it probably won't be the last," Peter said pragmatically as he gathered his book bag.
"Would you like me to teach you some self defense techniques?" Natasha said suddenly, surprising both Peter and herself. She didn't normally involve herself in the lives of others, but this boy was such a sad sack. Maybe she could help him out of his doldrums.
Peter perked up a bit. He'd always wanted a bit of official training, even if it was from a substitute teacher. "Yeah, that would be great!"