Hello friends! I apologize for the delay!
Anyway, a heads up, if you notice that the chapters have become more "rushed" I would say, is that this chapter and some of the next ones should serve as "extras", you know? Like a bridge to the time skip I'm going to do! I kind of added a few thousand words, but they were supposed to be shorter. That's all.
Thank you very much to everyone who is following along, from the bottom of my heart, enjoy!
Her eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted, her breathing short.
She saw...
Peter turned around when he heard a noise. His senses were already returning to normal. The vulture was trying to move, but to no avail. He grunted, his eyes blinking rapidly as he stared at it in anger.
A futile feeling for an incapacitated man.
The vulture wasn't his problem now... the girl in front of him was. He turned to her again.
She saw...
Shit... Peter squeezed his mask lightly in his hand and took a few steps closer to Bea, who, still surprised and confused, took a few steps back. Not in fear, no, far from it, just... shock.
He advanced towards her and gently pulled her by the wrist, leading her into a nearby alley after hearing, in the distance, the sound of approaching sirens. She didn't resist, but she didn't say anything either.
As soon as they were clear of the destroyed area and hidden from any prying eyes that might appear, he stopped and looked directly at her.
"Peter... Peter, you-"
"Bea, just shut up and listen." He interrupted her, perhaps a little rudely, but not exactly angrily. She shut up, still staring at him with such intensity that he even felt uncomfortable. "Look... what you saw here? Forget it."
She blinked in surprise, remained silent for a few moments and then shook her head.
"What? You're kidding..."
"No! I'm not! Just forget it."
"How the fuck do you expect me to do that?!" She asked. Her words and tone of voice were rude and agitated, unusual for her personality. "You saved me! Besides... Peter, the same person who comes to my house every week is the one who saves people, stops bandits and dodges bullets! Do you really think I can just forget?"
"Look, this isn't a joke, Bea! You follow the news, don't you? You know what the authorities think of me, the best thing you can do is forget about it and not tell anyone!" He said, his voice low but firm, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Peter-"
"No, Bea, listen!" He interrupted her again. "No matter what you think of me, the best thing now is for you to just never touch the subject again, okay?" He asked, anxiously and expectantly...
"I..." She took a deep breath, clearly torn between several thoughts. He understood, he'd lose his mind too if it were him in her situation. "Okay, fine... I won't tell."
"Promise." He tilted his head slightly, assessing every detail of her expression.
She hesitated for a moment, but then nodded.
"... I promise." Peter relaxed slightly, but his heart was still pounding.
It was then that Bea let out a sigh and wiped her hand across her face. "Fuck... Peter, you could have died."
What did I just say?
"What were you doing here? We're a long way from your house." He asked, trying to change the subject.
"Peter, we're only an hour away from the band's first gig!" She said, and he blinked a few times, processing the information.
"What?"
"The gig, Peter! It's today! Did you forget?" she asked with a sigh, her hands were shaking and she simply couldn't take her eyes off what was left of Peter's suit. "At The Groove Spot! You said you were going!"
Oh, shit... I completely forgot...
No one could blame him, he'd been so absorbed with the Daily Bugle, then with Otto, his camera, Aunt May, his job as Spider-Man... yes, it was safe to say he'd forgotten.
"Okay, ah, yes... yes, I'm still going. I was on my way home, until I was attacked out of the blue." He said, lowering his gaze and clicking his tongue as he did so. His costume was ruined, and he practically had his chest out... argh! That would be so much work to fix... in fact, he'd better create another costume from scratch, that one was too torn. "Right, I just... need to clean myself up first."
Bea crossed her arms, still trying to take it all in, but ended up letting out a small smile.
"I can't believe our manager is a hero... that's incredible!" She said, and he grimaced at her, who just rolled her eyes. "All right, all right, never mention it again, I get it."
Peter shook his head, sighing once more.
"Give me thirty minutes." She arched an eyebrow.
"Fifteen."
"Twenty."
"Okay... but if you don't go, I'll tell the others." That's a low blow.
"You can't tell... but I will, don't worry." With that, he looked around once more before jumping up, hanging onto the wall above Bea, who just watched him with wide eyes.
How could he want her to forget if he was doing that right in front of her? Never!
"Turn around, go the other way. There will be a lot of police, journalists... you could end up being late." He said, without waiting for an answer, and ran up the building.
Bea watched him for a few more moments, still disbelieving what she had just seen. But, well, maybe she shouldn't be so surprised, now that familiar feeling made a lot of sense.
The dressing room was small and cramped, but not bad at all. The place was clean, the mirrors looked new and the set of lamps gave the place charm. Bea closed the door behind her after entering, letting out a sigh as she rested her hands on her knees.
Who would have thought that a secret would make her feel so... exhausted, and so soon. Heck, she had just learned about her friend's secret identity, and she felt drained.
"There you are! I was getting worried!" Liz's voice made her raise her head, and she forced a small smile.
"We heard about Spider-Man's fight. Are you all right?" MJ asked with a slightly worried look on her face, approaching at a calm pace.
"Yeah, yeah, when I heard all that destruction, I went around the block, so I ended up taking longer." She made up an excuse, which seemed to work.
"You're panting... are you sure you're all right?" Gwen asked.
"Of course, Gwen, I'm just... nervous! Come on, it's our first official gig! Of course I'd be nervous." She said, forcing another small smile and walking over to one of the empty chairs. Technically, she was telling the truth.
"That's normal." Liz said, adjusting her black tank top, which clung to her torso and left a little of her navel showing. Bea just arched an eyebrow as she watched the girl adjust the cargo pants she was wearing. "First big performance, everyone feels a little cold in the belly."
"That's an understatement." MJ said, crossing her arms. She was wearing black jeans ripped at the knee and a red blouse with black details. "If I miss a beat, we're screwed."
"Well, if I miss a chord, at least I can pretend it was intentional." Gwen joked. Bea had to admit, she had never imagined seeing Gwen in black clothes with a few blue details, it didn't seem to be her style. But she hadn't looked bad at all.
"Just to say, you look wonderful. MJ, red really is your color." Bea said, and the girl in question sent her a grateful smile.
"Thanks, Bea. You look great too." She said.
"Yeah, you're going to make all those fat old men drool." Liz said, amusingly interrupting the little moment.
"Argh, Liz, thanks for being such a spoiler!" MJ said with a grimace. "Wow, now that you mention it, that won't get out of my head." She shivered, and Liz just laughed amusedly.
"If that's the case... It reminds me of when 19th century scientists presented electricity to a group of aristocrats and half of them thought it was witchcraft. Only in this case, we're the electricity and they're the confused aristocrats." Gwen said, laughing to herself at her own attempt at a joke. Bea smiled slightly, while Liz and MJ looked at her with extravagant grimaces.
"And Gwenzilla strikes again!" MJ said.
"Hellooo? Being a nerd is Peter's job! I thought we'd established that!" Liz said, agreeing with the redhead.
"Speaking of Peter..." Gwen said, looking at the clock on the wall. "It's almost time. Where is he?"
"Late. Which isn't exactly a surprise." Liz said, sitting down in the chair next to Bea, who had become unusually quiet.
"Oh, if he doesn't come, I swear I'll make him regret being born with legs! Because I'm going to break both of them!" MJ said, crossing her arms and looking at her watch with an arched eyebrow.
Gwen, upon hearing this, laughed a little louder. "Oh, this is insane."
"What?" MJ asked.
"I was just thinking... a few months ago we were watching him get thrown down the corridor, stuck in the locker, kicked and called all sorts of names without doing anything. Now we're here getting angry because he still hasn't shown up for our show. How the tables have turned."
She said, and MJ ended up silent, pensive. It was true, and she didn't quite know how to react. It just sort of... happened. Naturally.
Just a conversation in a library and that was it, nothing more.
"He's a nice guy." Bea said sincerely.
"Nicer than I thought, I admit." Surprisingly, it was Liz who said. "... Maybe I should apologize to him."
"Yeah... definitely..." Gwen said, and the silence lasted for a few moments, each trapped in their own thoughts. This, mixed with the anxiety of their first concert, meant that they didn't exactly have the words to speak.
"And that's why he has to come soon. Because if he doesn't come, I won't apologize for anything." Liz said a short while later, crossing her arms in an attempt to lighten the mood.
There were three knocks on the door, which startled them for a moment. But soon, the door opened and the venue's partner appeared.
"Okay, girls, ten minutes. Are you all right?" He asked amiably, and they exchanged a few glances before turning to him.
"Absolutely, Rick! We won't disappoint." Gwen said, appearing confident on the outside, but almost freaking out on the inside.
"Great! Well, we're all set. There are a few people who want to see you, so after you've finished, you can go on stage." Rick said, waving to them before turning and leaving, leaving them somewhat confused as to who exactly wanted to talk to them.
The first person who appeared made Gwen's eyes widen slightly, her father, the police captain himself. "Dad?"
"Why the surprise?" He said with a small smile, pulling her into a small hug.
"I thought you were working." She said, returning the hug for a few moments before pulling away again.
"I asked to leave early, I couldn't miss my daughter's first concert." He said. "Hi, MJ, Bea, Liz."
"Hi Mr. Stacy." MJ and the others returned the greeting. "Good to see you here."
"I say the same."
"Where's Mom?" Gwen asked, a little worried.
"Oh... she didn't want to come. She... well, you know what she thinks." He said, running a hand along the back of his neck. Gwen merely nodded, she knew her mother's opinion well, so it wasn't a surprise.
It was still disappointing, though.
"Anyway, don't think about it, you've got a show in..." He looked at his watch. "7 minutes. Good luck to you. You're going to rock." He said, giving Gwen a gentle pat on the shoulder as a form of encouragement.
"Of course, Mr. Stacy. You can leave it with us." MJ said, slipping her arm around Gwen's neck and pulling her in without even a hint of politeness, making the girl glare at her.
"Right... how many songs are you playing?" He asked, watching Gwen grunt as she slipped out of her friend's grip.
"Well, considering we're the main band... I'd say all the songs we have. In that case, 8?" She said/asked.
"The last one we did isn't complete yet, so, yes, 8." Liz confirmed.
"Okay... I can't promise I'll stay until the end. If I leave before then, call me when you've finished and I'll get someone to pick you up." He said, without having to explain why, they already knew about the destruction that had taken place earlier.
"Okay, that's fine. Thanks, Dad." Gwen thanked him, and he smiled again, wishing her good luck once more before leaving.
Gwen sighed and turned around, looking at the clock. She was getting more and more anxious...
Well, a few moments after the door closed, it opened again.
"Ah, finally, Pete-" MJ interrupted her own speech and her eyes widened slightly as Peter entered, causing the others to stare at him.
They were silent for a few seconds, something Peter noticed, but didn't pay much attention to at first, it could have just been nerves. Little did he know...
Peter Parker had always had that awkward way about him, baggy clothes, a hooded sweatshirt thrown over his head and a relaxed posture that didn't let much show. Not to mention the fact that he always walked with a curved back, making him look smaller than he really was.
But now... The tight black T-shirt highlighted a physique that none of them had ever imagined he had. The jogger pants fit well, too well with those muscular thighs. And his hair, without being messy or hidden under a cap, gave him a much more confident air than the stripped-down Peter they knew.
Gwen blinked a few times, MJ crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly as if to analyze him better, Liz arched an eyebrow and Bea... well, Bea just looked at him, holding back a slight smile that threatened to escape.
Peter looked around and, as if he hadn't noticed the girls' expressions, clapped his hands together.
"Sorry for the delay, the streets are in chaos, traffic, people fighting, I think I even saw a pigeon mugging a hot dog. I left home thinking it was going to be a normal walk. Twelve catastrophic events later, I'm here, unharmed but deeply traumatized." He said exaggeratedly, running a hand down his neck and walking over to the mirror.
He grimaced a little... his Aunt May had chosen those clothes, he felt so... weird. Almost as if he didn't look like himself.
He then turned to them, and only then realized that they were staring at him. He just arched an eyebrow in confusion. "What?"
"... Since when the fuck do you go to the gym?" MJ asked, pointing to his chest that was literally marked by his shirt.
Ah, fuck, Aunt May... why...?
"Ahm... since a few months ago." He said. "Anyway, it doesn't matter, you have something else to worry about now. Gwen, do what you did that time on the bridge, remember? That transition was amazing, so just repeat it when the time is right.
She raised her eyebrows, surprised that he remembered, and then nodded with a small smile.
"Okay."
"MJ, on the second chorus, hold the tempo a little longer before you come in with the backing vocals. It gives it more impact."
She pursed her lips thoughtfully and then nodded.
Bea and Liz exchanged glances, and he pointed at them both. "And you guys, just keep doing what you do best. Really."
Bea smiled, finally relaxing a little. "Thanks, Peter."
They stared at each other for a few moments, but Peter soon looked away.
"Well, that's all I had to say." He said, looking at the clock on the wall. "It's time... get out there and make some noise." He raised his hand for a high-five and Gwen was the first to knock, followed by MJ, Liz and, lastly, Bea, who hesitated for a moment before doing the same.
When he stepped away from the door, they took a deep breath and left the dressing room, heading towards the stage.
Peter stood there for a while longer, and when they had gone far enough, he let himself fall onto the sofa in the corner.
Man... how exhausted he was.
The stage seemed bigger than they thought... or was it just nerves? Seeing all those unfamiliar faces staring at them in such a way almost made them feel exposed. Bright lights illuminated every corner, and the place was very busy. The bar was full, not surprising given that it was a Friday at the beginning of the month.
Mary Jane adjusted the drumsticks in her sweaty hands, tapping the drums lightly as if to test if she still remembered how to play. Gwen held the guitar tightly, her fingers trembling slightly as she adjusted the tuning, and Bea fiddled with the buttons on the keyboard, checking everything for the third time. Liz, with her bass resting on her hip, took deep breaths, trying to look relaxed. Of them all, she seemed the most... confident? Not exactly the best word.
"... There are more people than I expected." Bea said quietly, just for them to hear.
"... If I make a mistake, pretend the battery's broken." MJ said.
"Relax, it'll be fine." Gwen said, trying to comfort them. The microphone squeaked as Gwen stepped forward. She took a deep breath and looked at the crowd. Her father was standing near a table, a bottle of beer in hand, leaning against the wall as he smiled gently in her direction.
Somehow, this calmed her down and made her even more nervous, as she wanted to do well in front of him.
A high-pitched, uncomfortable sound echoed through the bar. Mary Jane lost her rhythm for a second. Liz looked at Bea, who blinked in surprise.
The audience fell silent.
Gwen felt her heart race, but before she could hesitate, Peter appeared in the corner of the room with a funny grimace. He made a few dramatic movements, drawing a smile from the girl.
It was then that MJ took the lead, starting with light, low, waiting beats. Gwen realized this and took a deep breath and played again.
This time it was right.
Mary Jane's drums came in hard, Liz's bass kept pace, Bea filled in with the keyboard chords, and everything fell into place.
The music grew, the audience began to move, some bobbing their heads to the beat.
She admitted that her voice came out a little stronger than usual on the microphone, but everything was fine so far, honestly, she was surprised she didn't mess up the lyrics. Mary Jane sang along on the second verse, her voice blending in perfectly with Gwen's. Well, that wasn't exactly what was supposed to happen, her voice was supposed to be a little higher and Gwen was supposed to be the backing vocal on that part, but it wasn't too bad.
Peter leaned against the back wall of the bar, letting the weight of his own body support him for a few seconds. He didn't exactly feel tired, well sort of. His body was in good condition thanks to his healing factor, but he felt a heavier weight. Maybe it was all that stuff with his senses.
Something had changed inside him, and he didn't know exactly what had changed or what to think about it.
Anyway...
He looked around, at all those people enjoying the music or chatting among themselves while they ate and drank. Then he looked at the stage, more precisely at one of the band members.
He shouldn't be there... he felt he shouldn't be.
He should be researching, investigating or, at the very least, staying away from public places. Especially with a bounty on his head circulating among criminals. But at the same time, he couldn't miss it.
Not that. Truth be told, he only offered to help MJ because he could use her at some point in the future. A girl like MJ had the same value as a queen in a game of chess. Well, it would have been Gwen, but Gwen didn't have what MJ had.
No...
MJ's charisma charmed hearts much more easily.
That's how he used to think... or does he still? He didn't know exactly, but he knew that part of him wanted to be there.
And he was proud.
His eyes swept the stage, watching each of the girls. Mary Jane twirling her drumsticks between her fingers as if she were in control of the situation, even though Peter knew she was nervous inside. Liz, normally so confident, discreetly tapping her foot on the floor to mark time and calm herself down. Bea, trying not to look anxious, but clearly thrilled at the idea of playing to so many people.
And Gwen, who held her guitar with trembling fingers and watched the crowd with restless eyes.
So much potential being wasted on people who don't care about you.
Join me! Imagine what we could achieve together... or what we could build!
Think about it, hero!
He clicked his tongue and his eyes immediately went to Bea. Peter felt a knot in his stomach as he saw her there, touching, smiling, completely involved in the moment.
She knew who he was.
And that meant she was in danger.
If any of those mercenaries discovered his identity, the first thing they would do would be to lure him somewhere... thinking along those lines, they would use everything they could against him. So, kind of everyone who interacts with him more than a stranger would, could be in danger.
He lowered his head... damn, how complicated that was. With that line of thought, the sensible thing was to stay away from everyone and everything.
Gwen hit a perfect chord, and Mary Jane entered the chorus with the right harmony, and the crowd reacted, which made him raise his head again. They were doing very well, going into the third song soon.
He paused for a few moments, and thought to himself...
Should he leave?
Time passed... Peter was still leaning against the wall of the bar, his arms crossed over his chest. They had already played six songs, and there wasn't long to finish.
Considering how long he had stayed, he even began to think that he would stay until the end of the show. But of course, peace never lasted for long.
The sharp, jagged sound of a police radio invaded his ears. His listening device picked up the police frequencies, and this made him cluck his tongue, already considering ignoring it.
"Cars destroyed-"
"Multiple wounded-"
"Exoskeletons... military-"
"The targets... are gone."
Peter froze. It seemed he couldn't even have a night's peace... what do you mean, the targets are gone?!
He closed his eyes for a second, letting the words sink in. Vulture and Shocker had been taken.
Someone had freed them... son of a bitch!
Peter turned away from the wall, casting one last glance at the stage. Gwen was totally immersed in the music, Mary Jane was hitting the drumsticks in perfect rhythm, Liz and Bea seemed completely connected to the moment.
Good, they wouldn't notice him leaving.
Without wasting any more time, Peter walked out of the back door and into the dark alley next to the bar. The first thing he did was rip off his shirt, shivering slightly as he felt the cold wind on his bare chest, marked by the remnants of some wounds that had yet to heal. Well, he would have to go that way, he hadn't taken an extra change of clothes with him and his outfit was destroyed. There was no time to improvise another suit.
He folded and hid his shirt in a place where he hoped it wouldn't get dirty and no one would get to it, leaving only his pants, sneakers and mask. Taking a deep breath, he shot out a web and launched himself into the air.
When he reached the site of the attack, he landed silently on one of the beams of a nearby building, his eyes scanning the scene below.
It was a massacre.
Cars were overturned, some on fire. The ground was littered with gunshot marks, blood and ammunition casings scattered everywhere. The bodies of police officers lay like broken dolls, some still holding guns they hadn't had a chance to fire.
"We need reinforcements! Reinforcements now! They've come prepared - Agh!" - The radio of one of the policemen rattled on the ground, soon silenced by the sound of a distant gunshot.
I'm getting really fed up with these mercenaries...
He jumped off the building, landing next to one of the wrecked cars. The metal was still hot, indicating that the attack had just taken place. His gaze moved quickly until he found footprints amidst the wreckage.
Someone had survived. Someone had escaped.
Peter followed the footprints, moving silently among the ruins of the confrontation. The trail led to a narrow alley behind an old warehouse. There, he saw a fallen body - a cop. But he wasn't dead, he was still breathing, mumbling something in between unconsciousness.
Peter knelt down beside him, lightly touching his shoulder.
"Hey... can you hear me?" He asked, analyzing his condition. Unfortunately, he had been shot many times... it was almost a miracle that he was still awake. Peter could hear... he didn't have any more time.
"... Y... you..." The policeman muttered, staring with weak eyes at Peter's mask.
"Two bullets pierced your lung, another pierced your intestine... you're bleeding internally, there's nothing I can do." He said, his voice neutral but laden with a certain sorrow. He didn't want to see someone die in front of him again. The cop blinked a few times, his eyes conveying various feelings that Peter could only imagine.
"What I can do, though, is go after whoever did this to you... where did they go?" He asked, unable to hear anything that could serve as clues. The place smelled of blood and gunpowder, there were lots of cars moving around... hard to say for sure.
The officer took some time to answer, and when he did, he didn't say a word, just pointed in the direction. Peter merely nodded and shot a web at the building next door, launching himself upwards.
He swung in that direction for minutes, listening behind him to the sound of the propellers of a press helicopter following him, until he spotted what looked like an ambulance. Something normal that wouldn't stop him. However, he could hear what they were saying.
The red and white vehicle was turning a corner quickly, its tires screeching on the asphalt. Anyone looking from the outside would only see an ambulance carrying a critically ill patient.
He landed directly on the hood of the ambulance.
The driver barely had time to react. Peter grabbed the side of the vehicle, raised his fist and smashed the driver's window with one punch, pulling the man out and throwing him onto the asphalt.
The vehicle began to lose control, skidding down the avenue. Peter prepared to take the wheel, but then...
There were few cars, few pedestrians. But in the distance he heard more propeller sounds, not just from the press helicopter, another one had joined in...
He looked through his mirrors and noticed several red lights flashing around him.
From nearby alleyways and buildings, mercenaries emerged, armed with high-tech rifles, some already aiming at him. On nearby rooftops, snipers took up position. A helicopter appeared just above, pointing a beam of light straight at the ambulance.
Peter's eyes widened.
Before he could react, the back doors of the ambulance exploded and more mercenaries jumped out, heavily armed.
Bad day to be out of uniform.
He tried to jump from the hood of the ambulance, but it was too late.
With a dry shot, one of the mercenaries shot a cylindrical metal device, which exploded in the air and shot out a reinforced metal net. Peter barely had time to react before the net wrapped around his body and threw him to the ground.
An electric wave ran through the metal mesh, making his muscles twitch for a second. His body convulsed with the discharge, his senses scrambling again.
Oh, no... not this time, no!
The mercenaries advanced cautiously, guns pointed directly at him. The helicopter's beam of light highlighted him like a captured animal.
One of the men approached and kicked him in the arm to test him.
Peter gritted his teeth and forced his arms against the net. The metal wires were reinforced, but not unbreakable. With a shout, he tore through the net with sheer brute force, the metal creaking and breaking around him.
The mercenaries had no time to react before he was free.
The first one who tried to raise his weapon was kicked straight in the chest, flying backwards and colliding with another. Peter spun in the air, dodging a burst of bullets and landing in the middle of the group.
He grabbed the rifle of one of the men and crushed it with his bare hands. Another tried to hit him with a club, but Peter ducked and punched his enemy in the stomach, sending him straight to the sidewalk.
Without holding back now... they would survive, for sure, they all had some kind of armor, probably bulletproof... but the consequences would remain.
Three fell too quickly. The snipers wasted no time.
From a nearby rooftop, one of the snipers fired. Peter threw himself to one side, the projectile whizzing through the air where his head had been moments before.
Running straight into a pole, he shot out a web, pulling himself up fast enough to avoid any more shots. He landed on the first roof, where one of the snipers was already reloading.
With a spinning kick, he knocked the man off the roof, causing him to fall onto the bodywork of the ambulance.
The second sniper tried to flee, but Peter pulled him up with a web around his ankle, dragging him to the ground and finishing him off with a punch to the face.
The helicopter spun above, casting more light on him and began firing with a light machine gun. Peter leapt around the building, dodging the shots. In the air, he turned his body and shot a ball of webbing towards the man using the gun. The ball hit him as hard as a rock, knocking him backwards with blood dripping from his forehead.
The third sniper took aim, but before he could fire, Peter leapt into the air and shot a web straight down the barrel of the gun.
The man pulled the trigger...
And the shot exploded inside the chamber, burning his hand and making him scream in pain. This scream didn't live for long, and was soon interrupted when Peter kicked the man in the chest with both feet, throwing him violently against the wall.
He looked back, ready to continue, only to realize that they were retreating... at least the mercenaries on the ground, the helicopter was still in the sky.
Reinforcements...
Peter looked around, analyzing the situation. Armored cars were approaching from the side streets with rockets on each side. The helicopter adjusted its aim. More men were coming down...
There were too many...
He turned in the air, shooting a web straight at the helicopter's landing gear.
The line caught firmly, pulling Peter violently upwards, causing him to crash into the metal side of the vehicle.
The mercenaries inside didn't have time to react before Peter ripped the side door off with a kick, throwing one of the men out in the process.
The others drew their weapons, but he was already in their midst.
A punch to the jaw on the first man.
A knee to the stomach on the second.
The third tried to shoot, but Peter grabbed his gun, turning it so that it fired at the control panel. Sparks flew, and the helicopter shook violently.
He moved towards the pilot, who was desperately trying to stabilize the helicopter. The man looked at Peter with pure desperation, his eyes wide.
"No, NO, WAIT-"
Peter punched the pilot's helmet, and the helicopter tilted sideways, losing control.
The emergency alert began to sound.
The aircraft spun wildly in the air, plummeting towards the streets below.
And right below it were the armored cars, still full of mercenaries. They would survive. But they wouldn't be able to hunt him down any longer.
The impact created an absurd explosion, light and fire illuminating the night. The shockwave threw bodies and debris in all directions.
Peter landed on a nearby rooftop, watching the chaos below.
Cars were on fire. Mercenaries were trying to escape, some wounded, others fallen, unable to react, but alive, their hearts still beating in their chests.
He looked around again, surprised to see that the press helicopter was still in the air... the vulture and the shoquer weren't there. There was no point in continuing there, and he was already getting uncomfortable with his bare chest.
Frustrated, he shot a web away and jumped out.
Peter was sitting in his chair facing his computer, next to him was a bowl filled to the brim with chopped fruit topped with natural yogurt and granola. His feet were resting on the table while his computer loaded the Steam page. That morning, he didn't want to think about vultures, mercenaries, bounties... nothing.
The screen flashed with tempting promotions, and he tilted his head, analyzing the discounts as if he were dealing with a complex equation.
"If I get Ghost of Tsushima... it'll take me around 90 hours to get all the achievements... that's if I focus on getting the most out of the first playthrough... I can start playing next Tuesday, which is when I finish Assassin's Creed..." He muttered to himself, running his hand along his chin and staring at the screen as if he were solving a complex equation.
He opened another tab and checked his Steam wallet.
Available balance: $29.74.
He could add another 60 dollars. That would be $89.74. He could buy two other games with those promotions in addition to Ghost of Tsushima.
He picked up the bowl of fruit and filled his spoon before putting it in his mouth. While he chewed, he decided to check his emails and deal with the games later.
Inbox (47 unread emails).
He started scrolling through the emails.
Pizza promotion: 'Peter, we've got a 30% discount for you!'
"Unless they accept webs as a form of payment, that doesn't help me."
Daily Bugle: 'New headlines! Spider-Man wreaks havoc in the city!'
Nope.
New York news: Compilation of shirtless pictures of Spider-Man.
"What? How did they manage to take all this?"
E-mail from an unknown sender: 'Spider-Man, we know who you are.
Peter stopped scrolling.
His stomach churned for a second, but then he looked again.
Sender: Spider-Man fan site.
He opened it.
"Dear Spider-Man, we know you're a real hero! Tell us, what's it like fighting terrifying villains? Take our survey and win a T-shirt!"
Peter snorted and threw his head back.
"Really? I almost had a heart attack because of a T-shirt promotion? That's emotional bullying."
He closed the email and opened another tab, checking his purchase on Steam.
Ghost of Tsushima added to the library.
Wonderful!
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms after leaving the game to download. He sighed, relaxing against the chair and closing his eyes.
Ah... how peaceful that morning was.
Until a familiar voice echoed from downstairs.
Bea.
Peter immediately became alert, his body stiffening.
Ah, for fucks' sake!
As soon as Peter heard Aunt May's laughter and Bea's voice echoing downstairs, he looked around and was dismayed to notice his suit on his bed.
"Oh shit, shit, shit!" He muttered, realizing that they were literally in front of the door.
Think, think, think, think! Trust your instincts!
He threw the suit out of the window.
Instincts bad!
He took a deep breath, trying to look casual. Which, of course, was impossible when you had just entered evidence destruction mode.
He took a deep breath, trying to look casual. Which, of course, was impossible when one had just entered evidence destruction mode.
The door opened.
"Peter, your colleague has come to visit you." Aunt May said with a smile. "I'm going to finish breakfast, if you want anything, just come down."
Bea walked in with a mischievous smile on her face, holding a cup of tea that Aunt May had probably insisted she take. She looked around, arching an eyebrow.
"... Did you clean the room in 0.5 seconds or do you always live in chaos?"
Peter gave her a forced smile. "Organization is relative." He joked. "First... how do you know where I live? And secondly, what are you doing here?"
Bea laughed and closed the door behind her, then crossed her arms and looked directly at him with an arched eyebrow. "Is this how you receive your guests? I asked MJ and she told me. Besides... we need to talk."
He arched an eyebrow, and moved to his chair cautiously. "Do we?"
"We do. You left before the show was over."
Peter scratched the back of his head, looking away. "Yeah, about that... I-"
"Before you try to apologize," Bea interrupted him, raising her hand. "I already know."
Peter swallowed. "Know what, exactly?"
"That you're an idiot." She said, pointing at him. "And that, for some reason, you didn't have the slightest sense to change your pants and sneakers before going out swinging."
Peter blinked. "What?"
She sighed, frustrated. She picked up her cell phone and pointed the screen at Peter, showing the images from yesterday's helicopter that had followed him, making it clear that he was without his suit. "Peter. You're still wearing the same clothes as yesterday! The pants, the sneakers... if anyone notices, you're done for. Gwen, MJ, any of them might connect the dots if they see you wearing those things after every 'mysterious appearance' of Spider-Man."
Peter looked down at himself. Of course... damn
He hadn't stopped to think about it. In the heat of the moment, he just grabbed the mask and left... in his defense, he didn't have time to worry about it.
He sighed, defeated. "Okay, good. Bad idea. I'll do better."
Bea smiled, satisfied. "Good. Because if I have to give you another lecture on this, I'll charge you."
Peter rolled his eyes. "Good. My secret identity now has a consultant."
Bea crossed her arms and started looking around Peter's room, her eyes analyzing every detail with a curiosity that made him dangerously uncomfortable.
Peter watched in silence, trying to predict what she would say. And then...
"So this is where the legendary Peter Parker lives."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and over there in the corner is the pile of laundry where my thousands of spider friends live."
Bea laughed, but didn't stop looking at everything. She leaned over the desk, running her fingers through some books and notebooks. "Huh. Quite a lot of science here. Expected."
She picked up a small metal prototype from the table and twirled it between her fingers. "What about this? Some secret superhero gadget?"
Peter snatched the device out of her hand in a reflex. "That's a prototype of the Spider-Byte. And no, it's not a toy."
Bea smiled. "Spider-Byte?" She asked, he grunted, and she laughed.
Peter sighed and sat down on the bed, massaging his temples. He didn't know how to deal with this situation. He never had anyone in his room. He never had time for normal friendships, let alone a friend who found out he was Spider-Man by accident.
And, well, no girl had ever been in there.
Bea noticed the discomfort and was amused by it.
She walked over to a poster on the wall and raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a quantum physics poster in your room?"
Peter shrugged. "I like quantum physics."
She pointed to another poster. "And a Star Wars one?"
"Classic. Untouchable."
She pointed to a shelf full of electronic junk. "What about that collection of junk?"
Peter held up his finger. "That junk collection is an arsenal of potentially revolutionary inventions, thank you."
Bea laughed, shaking her head. "Okay. Eccentric genius, got it."
She then threw herself into the swivel chair and crossed her legs, looking directly at him. "Right, now let's get down to business. You have powers."
Peter sighed. "Yeah... I noticed."
"So... what exactly can you do?"
He shrugged. "Super strength, enhanced reflexes, heightened senses..."
"Heightened senses?"
"Yes..." He didn't like that tone very much.
"Elaborate."
"Ahm... super-sense of smell, I'd say, super-vision-"
"Super-vision?! Like Superman?!" She asked, somewhat excited.
"Not exactly, no... well, almost, but not in the same way. I can't see your flesh, your bones, organs... no. But I can see... things that the human eye can't. If I were to say, I think my eyesight is a few... hundred times better than human eyesight. Maybe even thousands, I don't know, I haven't tested it much, it's quite uncomfortable depending on the environment."
"That's incredible! Gee... what else?"
"Ahm... if you throw something at me, I'll always dodge it." She arched an eyebrow.
"Really? But what about all the times I've thrown a pillow at you?"
"I let you."
Bea picked up a stapler from the desk.
"Oh, no way-"
She threw it.
Peter ducked, and before the stapler hit the wall, he shot out a web and grabbed it back.
Bea cracked a wide smile. "Okay, that was pretty cool."
Peter snorted.
What am I? A circus attraction?
Peter sighed and wiped his hand across his face. "Is there anything else or can I start charging you for this interview?"
Bea spun around in her chair, staring at the ceiling. "Hmm... Ah! How did you get these powers?"
Peter hesitated. He'd never told anyone that before.
"...Radioactive spider."
Bea stopped spinning. "...You're kidding."
Peter sighed. "No. It was a radioactive spider. It bit me. I woke up the next day able to climb walls and lift absurdly heavy things."
Bea thought for a moment. Then she raised her hands dramatically. "So if I get bitten by a radioactive spider, I get powers too?"
Peter blinked. "Ahm... no. I mean, maybe. But most likely, the spider will die from the radiation before it can even bite you."
She slammed her hands on the table, interrupting him. "GREAT. Then just find one and voila."
Peter pointed at her. "Terrible idea. Horrible idea. Don't try that."
Bea smiled. "Relax. I'm smarter than that."
Peter crossed his arms. "You literally threw a stapler at my head two minutes ago."
Bea laughed. "Okay, point for you."
She then leaned back in her chair, watching him with a more interested look. "Right. Last question."
Peter narrowed his eyes. "I'm scared."
Bea smiled. "Can you take me on your next patrol?" Peter immediately straightened up in bed.
Peter immediately straightened up in bed. "What? No!"
"Why?"
"Because you're a normal person, Bea! What - where did that come from?!"
"I don't know, I just think it would be really cool! I won't get in your way, I'll stand on top of a building and watch."
"Definitely not! There are people trying to kill me every night! Do you want to die?"
Bea rolled her eyes. "Dramatic. I just want to see what it's like."
Peter shook his head. "No."
"Not even a brisk walk?"
"No."
"Not even if I-"
"No."
She snorted. "Boring." She said this, but sat down on her bed. Which meant she had no intention of leaving.
Peter sighed again... he wasn't liking that.