"Yeah. Yeah. I know, but we gotta work within our budget. I'll see what I can do, Dr. Connors. I worked on this thing for a whole month, after all. Call me if anything else comes up. Yeah, talk to you later."
Peter leaned back in his chair, slumping. He stretched, grunting, before letting himself relax. Even though the Emily-May Foundation now has a small facility, it was mainly used as a place for operations. Peter's office was still in the garage. Now that he's resumed his duties as Spiderman, it turned out to be great for him - no longer needing to worry about losing his job. He could work, go out when the call came, and resume where he left off.
"It took long enough, but finally some balance in the world..." Peter said to himself before getting out of his chair and out of the garage.
Going inside the house, Peter could smell Mary-Jane cooking something in the kitchen.
"I smell something good in here." Peter said.
"Gonna be a little while, just started." Mary-Jane said from the kitchen, "How's work going?"
He made his way to the kitchen, "Great! Now that I managed to get Dr. Connors back on board, the work load's finally gonna lighten up. The facility our sponsor gave us is actually kinda great for a small place."
Mary-Jane chuckled, "For you to get Connors back, you must of had to do some sweet talking."
Peter grinned, "You know how I can be."
Inside the kitchen, Mary-Jane was making grilled-cheese sandwiches,
And the change didn't go unnoticed.
"You cut your hair."
Mary-Jane ran her hand through her bob cut, "Does it look weird?"
"No, not at all. Its a nice change, actually. How's things going with you?"
"Viewership's going up. Also getting some nice messages from them - saying that they feel like I one of the few reliable sources of information these days."
"Sounds a little daunting don't you think - letting them talk about you like that?"
"Yeah, but, the people have spoken. The New Normal has a place to stay."
Peter went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water when he noticed some papers on the kitchen counter, "What are these?"
"Print-out copies of messages some viewers have sent to me. Crime-related stuff. But, what's odd is that some of them talk about people going crazy out of the blue and having this weird smell on them."
Peter picked up the papers and started reading through some of them, "Yeah... Miles said the crooks he was supposed to deal with the night we found our Imposter smelled funny."
"Some are even survivor accounts, talking about how they were cut with some sort of red knife."
"Did the police ever get these knives?"
"Yeah. But I got a source at one of the stations - every time one of these knives are taken for evidence, they always disappear."
"...Huh." One message caught Peter's eye about how a sweet old grandma suddenly went berserk at the place she usually sits in the park, swinging her cane at the birds, yelling words, even trying to bite someone that approached her.
There came a buzzing in Peter's pocket.
He pulled it - duty called.
Mary-Jane chuckled, "Go get'em, Tiger. These'll be done by the time you get back."
Peter flashed a smile before running out the back door. Off went his clothes and on came his mask. With one thwip of his web shooters, he was then flung into the sky, the air of New York blowing against his body as he went through the air, heading towards the location of where the alert came from the Friendly Neighborhood app.
Approaching the crime scene, Peter couldn't believe his eyes when he saw a school bus rocking back and forth. Through the windows, he could see the teenagers inside were bashing their fists on the windows, ramming them as they raved in mad screaming. The moment he landed, the one tackling the back door barged through and fell to the ground with a loud thud. The others in the bus heard the back door fly open and rushed to get out.
"Spiderman!" Peter looked over and saw who could only be the bus driver covered in nicks and scrapes and small cuts, "They started going crazy, I dunno what happened. Just don't hurt them, please!"
A piercing screech split the air, the teenagers set their feral eyes on him, their hair disheveled, faces creased with ferocity, and teeth barred from which harsh and animalistic panting could be heard.
They dashed at him, screaming and and wailing, disturbing the image of their humanity just by the feral nature they showed.
"My god..." Peter's face scrunched under his mask, "Okay, not all of you are jocks, you guys should know bathing is important by now."
One of the teens threw themselves at him, springs unknown now releasing from that body of theirs, launching themselves with alarming momentum. Peter kicked off of them and shot his webs to incapacitate them as he flipped in the air.
"Sure you should be hitting those books instead of signing up for the football team?" Peter said as he landed.
The other teens rushed for him. There was no planning to their attack, it was all feral, primal, an animal instinct to put down any opposing force in their way. As per the request of the bus driver, Peter held back and only resorted to using self-defense should the situation demand it, making sure the amount of force he used was not enough to break anything.
And even then, they weren't making it easy for him -
"This is why. We say. To. Stay. In. School!" Peter said as he bobbed and waved through the waves of arms and bodies, webbing the teens one after another.
Some of them he had to web more than necessary as their sheer strength in struggling to get out them made their hands bleed and nails crack or break. He would have made a quip about them looking like cartoon characters getting angry if they weren't gritting their teeth so hard that blood started oozing out from their mouths.
"I know your teens can be rough but this ain't a good outlet, guys!" Peter said, webbing more of the teens, half of of them incapacitated.
He caught one of them trying to wrench up a nearby sewer grater and used one of his gadgets to incapacitate them in a static shock, and had to dodge catch it from the air to prevent any collateral damage.
"Geez, you sure drink your milk. C'mon, guys, I know being a goody-to-shoes can get you bullied but do it for me, please?"
When it was down to a handful left, Peter saw that the ruddy tint on their skin flushed into a deeper shade and their eyes were getting darker. They hung their bodies lower, primate-like, their hands clawing, and their saliva was leaking in loud and heavy drips from their mouths.
"What in the world..." Peter said, "Its... almost like..."
They wailed in a splitting screech that shook their heads and arched their backs.
Obliging to his suspicion, he summoned something within him and his suit become enveloped in white with harsh black lines.
The remaining teens roared again, this time seemingly in fear.
Peter sighed, shaking his head, "Oh boy..." Then sprang into action.
When punching one of them, he felt a familiar sensation on the impact of his fist. It was like he was breaking some sort of barrier that had multiple layers. Each punch peeled back those layers, one by one, until he got to the center. Making one final strike in that vulnerable moment, Peter felt something like the fizzling of a match stick.
"Crap..." Peter said, "Did we somehow miss a nest?"
Like he had suspected, for every punch he made to the teens the more weaker and less aggressive they became until they stumbled or collapsed into a sprawl. Their skin returned to their regular complexion and the few who remained conscious were in a daze, their eyes glazed over, confusion swimming in them as they tried to take in their surroundings.
Curious, he then pulled out an old gadget, so old it was very simplistic in design, made purely for function.
"Hope this still works, haven't used it in forever. To think I used to worry about blood pressure back then." Peter said as he knelt down and took hold of one of the teens fingers and used the gadget to make a small puncture in their skin and take a minute sample of their blood.
Afterwards, he went to the bus driver -
"They're down. I did what I could to not hurt them, but it got to a point that I couldn't hold back."
"What do you mean, what's wrong with them?" The bus driver said with concern and suspicion, even taking a step back.
"Hopefully, nothing wrong anymore with this suit." Peter said, pointing to the anti-venom suit, "I've heard rurmors about people being cut with red knives, they didn't cut you with anything like that, did they?"
The bus driver shook their head, "No. They just started going crazy and having this stench on 'em. At first, I thought it was a fight going on, so I tried to stop it. And you're looking at what happened."
"So then, what happened to make them like this?" Peter said, looking back at the incapacitated teens.
In the distance, police sirens became louder in their approach.
"I'll call the other Spiderman and see if he knows anything." Peter said to the bus driver, "Give the police your account of things, I hope this is just a one-off thing."
"You be careful, Spidey. Don't lose your cool."
"Believe me, I won't. Not anymore." Then Peter zipped away, swinging himself to a far enough distance to then make a call.
"Hey, MJ." Peter said, "Think you can wrap up those grilled cheese for me?"
"Why? What going on?"
"Those reports, about people suddenly becoming aggressive? I just stopped a whole bus of teenagers who were like that, they had that smell on them, too."
"My god... You didn't hurt them, right?"
"For the most part, they gave me a lot of trouble. And it turns out, this might be symbiote related."
"What?! But we wiped them out, all the nests that survived you and Miles took out, right?"
"Yeah. But when I used the anti suit, that aggression went away. I'm gonna swing around, see if there's anything that confirms my suspicion."
"Okay. I'll see what I can dig up and what my viewers bring in. You call Miles about this?"
"About to, thanks MJ and be careful."
"You, too."
The electronic beep signaled the end of the call, making Peter ring Miles.
"Miles, you busy?"
"Taking a break, what's up?"
"Long story short, something symbiote related popped up. Those instances of people becoming aggressive with bad smells? Its being caused by a symbiote of some kind."
"But we got all the nests. All of them should have died out with that particle accelerator blast. Think one was able to stay alive somewhere?"
"I don't know, that's why I'm looking around right now. You should do the same, don't want that mess coming back."
"For sure. Alright, I snoop around the areas where the surviving ones used to be."
"Good idea. I'll look around the neighborhoods. Stay safe and look out, Miles. I had to stop a bus full of agressive teenagers."
"Don't you worry. Call you if I find anything."
Peter swung on, looking at spots that were even remotely suspicious.
Peter was perched on an abandoned water tower beside a suburban neighborhood, taking a break, sipping a cup of coffee. Much needed rocket fuel for his work later with the Emily-May foundation later and anymore of his search and patrols.
He hadn't been successful in the search for any evidence pertaining to a hidden nest anywhere, but something had pulled him in this direction telling him he would find something around here.
But no matter where he looked he only saw a completely unremarkable neighborhood.
Peter sighed, "Why did I come here? The crime scene was all the way back over... uh, there. And its even getting a little late." He pushed himself up to stand, "Guess I should head back."
That was when he heard a gasp to his left and saw a teenage girl with an unkempt mop of black hair, glasses with cartoonishly large glasses, wearing a red hoodie. A back pack hung in her hand, which slipped out of her hand and fell to the ground with a plop.
"...Spiderman?" Her disbelief unable to hide her voice very befitting of a little sister.
"Hi." Peter said, giving a wave, "Was in the neighborhood and I'm just taking a break."
"Uh, its not a problem." The girl said, "No one really comes up to this place. Well, except me. Its a place for me to get away from things. So you don't need to worry about people yelling at you."
Peter nodded, but he couldn't shake this strange feeling looking at the girl. He kept a cool demeanor as he spoke again, "Shouldn't you be heading home by now? Its getting a little late to be hanging outside for this long."
"My Dad works in FEAST, and he's also seeing a woman, so, he's not going to be home for a while. Plus, I just want to be in a place where I can be by myself."
"But, wouldn't your room be that place?"
The girl became silent, "Just moved here recently after moving around the country. I hang around here to feel... grounded, I guess."
"A place where you can be yourself without the expectations of the world."
"Yeah. Something like that."
Peter checked the time, he needed to get going but something about this girl made him want to stay longer. In fact, he was starting to get worried. He already had Mary-Jane, he didn't want her or the authorities to get upset or get the wrong idea. But he knew with absolute certainty that whatever it was that was making him want to stay wasn't in that way, at all. He just somehow knew that this girl needed help, whatever that help was.
He leapt down to join the girl on the roof, "Are you okay? You seem a bit... worried about something."
The girl shrugged, "What's not to worry about these days with what's happened recently."
"Got any friends?"
"Maybe school friends, but, not any real friends, I guess."
"You in high school?"
"Yeah?"
"Even just one friend is enough to help you through life. Dealing with things by yourself, being alone, it can make you do things you wouldn't otherwise. They're there, you just gotta find them and let 'em in."
The girl frowned, "But I don't like people, way too obnoxious and loud."
"But you want some people close, don't you? People you can rely on?"
"I... I'm not sure if I can rely on other people."
"Well, what's going on? I can make time for some Spidy Counseling. You get a free discount!"
The girl opened her mouth, paused, then smiled shyly, "Well..."
Peter and the girl got comfortable before she began talking about how after her mother died she and her father moved around the country before moving back to New York.
"Sometimes we moved frequently, staying in one place for only just a few months before moving again. The longest was five months. It... made me feel... restless. I wanted to stay in one place, but Dad's job demanded we kept going."
"What does your dad do? You said he works for FEAST?"
"He used to be a scientist. I think he eventually just got burnt out by everything that happened with the family. That's why he wanted to come home to New York. I was more than happy to say yes, after all you and the other Spiderman are here."
"And it was finally an opportunity to have a place to actually stay in."
"Yeah, it was. Is. But moving as much as we did, mom dying, I... I, uh... I keep wondering if I'll ever feel like I belong anywhere."
Peter remembered his younger years, after Uncle Ben died, "You belong with your Dad, and he belongs with you. And after getting some friends, that belonging can grow into something that makes you happy. You just need to realize that you aren't alone anymore."
"...Sure."
Peter looked at the setting sun, "Aw man, its that time already?! I gotta get a move on. Sorry I can't stay longer and talk to you more, uh... Huh, wow, we've talked for this long and I didn't even ask for your name."
"...Cindy. Cindy Moon."
"Cindy... Classy name. Don't really hear kids named that as much."
"Oh! Uh, wait..." Cindy pulled her phone from her pocket, "Can we take a picture?"
"Sure. Only one though, got places to be."
Cindy smiled, "No problem."
Getting close together, Peter felt that sensation in his conscience become some sort of pull, not an attraction, per say. It was almost like... Peter could only describe it with an analogy of being able to feel the sound waves of a bass booster against his body. It was telling him that he knew Cindy, somehow.
But, where? How?
Cindy held up her phone in a selfie shot,
Peter held up a piece sign,
Cindy took off her glasses, making Peter realize that her eyes were naturally that big without having a bulging look,
and she made a small smile.
Click!
"Alright," Peter said, separating from her, "I might swing by the neighborhood to check up on you sometime. Maybe even have more of that Spidy Counseling. See you around, Cindy!"
He leapt from the roof, zipping himself away with his web shooters, swinging out of sight. Cindy kept waving good-bye until he did. But even then she kept staring in silence, the breeze rustling her hair. She looked over at the red setting sun, not flinching or narrowing her eyes, its red glow clearly reflecting in the dark orbs of her pupils.
She then looked at her phone's screen, where it still showed that picture she had taken.
She stared into it long, her eyes glinting with comfort and familiarity, yet once again the light of the screen seemed cold and indifferent, softening her features into somber ambiguity -
"It really is you... Peter."