Sorry I'm late. It's basically early Autumn weather right now and I fell in love with the outdoors. Also ate a little fancy and had a lovely seared tuna with pineapple and spice.

Rule number 1 of a fight: don't escalate unless you're sure you can handle whatever comes next. It was just like playing a game of cards: everything is safe until you no longer know what's on the table. Things could be relatively even if it was just fists on the table, but once someone brought out a pipe (or in this case: a bat or a crowbar), that's when things started getting messy.

They started out only one person at a time. I dodged their first strike, countered with a quip about personal space, and evaded their second swing, placing my fists on my waist and chiding them for not respecting my boundaries.

"Dude, come on," a feminine sounding voice called out, "just hit him!"

"If we're going to get violent like that, at least take me out to dinner first," I joked, not yet putting my hands up. So far these guys were treating me as a joke, which was exactly how I wanted things to be.

"Man, forget this." Someone else, the one who I was pretty sure was the one marking locations, stepped forward and tried to Happy Gilmore a swing at my head. I ducked underneath it, giving the guy a not-so-friendly shove from behind that ended with him flat on his face.

"Tag, you're it!" I shouted, grinning to try and mask the anxiety coursing through my veins. "No touch backs, though, so you gotta hit someone else!"

Move.

I dove in place, kip upping backwards instead of forward. "Hey, wait your turn!" I scolded another bat Thug, pointing my finger at him disapprovingly. That act was apparently enough to set everyone in motion. Jokes, some of them sounding lame even to my ears, flew out in place of punches and kicks, though I was more than happy to help give people a helping hand towards greeting the floor or being more appreciative of the fall. "Hey, that one was actually pretty good," I muttered to myself, sliding my foot back underneath me from someone's surprise trip courtesy of Arachnid Air. "Not sure where I heard it from, though."

"C'mon, guys! He's just one dude! This shouldn't be that hard!"

"Hey, the one dude is called Spider-Man, and I think he's pretty spectacular!" I shouted back to Screwball. "Heck," I dodged another swing, spinning around and giving one of the guys with a crowbar a 'gentle' shove forward that had him crashing into one of his unarmed companions, "I'd downright say at this moment I'm pretty amazing!"

"Man, enough of this."

Danger.

I shot forward, surging through two thugs and back-handing the inside of the guy's forearm with my knuckles. His hand reflexively opened, and in one smooth motion, I flung his gun high up at one of the buildings and webbed it in place. "Nu-uh," I said, wagging a finger. "None of that, now."

"The fuck was that?!" he shouted in alarm.

"Screwball, cops are on the way!" The guy with all the lighting said, looking up from his phone.

"Crap. Sorry, Thugs, livestream over. The pigs are on their way to pick up scraps. I promise we'll give you all a better showing next time!"

A few of the Thugs tried to give me a parting swipe or two as they ran off towards their cars. If I was more experienced in what I was doing, maybe I would have followed after them, but as it was I simply pulled myself to the roofs with twin web lines, roof hopping my way to relative safety because unmasking myself and shoving it into my backpack. "Did that just happen?" I asked myself, leaning up against an AC unit. My nerves were still a little shot from the adrenaline, and I found myself hyper-focusing on various details of the roofs around me. A few lit doors here, some potted plants there; between the moments that the moon was and wasn't visible, my mind kept playing back the fight. I still wasn't sure about actually hitting anyone just yet; no matter how many times I managed to crater all sides of a box without breaking through the cardboard, knowing that the same fist that could literally punch through a car door was meant to hit a fleshy meat bag and not utterly pulverize it was terrifying, so all I could bring myself to do was grant a little extra momentum to the bulls I danced around.

After a couple minutes of doing nothing but breathing, trying and failing to calm my heart rate down, I sent Cindy a message through my burner phone, slowly making my way towards the bar she was (illegally) hanging at.

/ - /

Double lives were hard, I decided. I'd gone from fighting off ten people without a scratch before bed, and upon waking up and riding the bus, I was quizzing MJ on her upcoming math test.

I flipped to the next card, briefly admiring the neatness of her handwriting before vocalizing the equation listed. When she answered wrong, I made a quiet buzzing sound with my mouth and set the card aside before continuing on.

Seriously, how did any Peter manage this? Especially as a teenager and all on their own? Going from life and death situations to ordinary mundane was for adults, drinking age or otherwise, not high schoolers.

"Nice work." I nudged MJ gently once I finished the stack, organizing the questions she got wrong on top for easier reference. "88% correct. Pretty sure that's your highest lead in this semester."

MJ gave a restrained sigh of frustration in response, staring at her cards.

I waited until after the next stop light before I leaned closer, pressing my shoulder against hers. "Your dad giving you grief again?"

"Hm? Oh, no." She shook her head. "It's Cindy. She told me to try and apply myself as hard as I could for at least one Semester before I graduate. I already know I can hit C's and B's, but the question is can I hit A's and B's?"

"Mm." After a couple moments, I pulled away, noting that she wasn't as kitted out as she normally was. The usual cosmetics were there to hide the general imperfections of puberty, but MJ hadn't gone all out today. It was probably something -ist or -ism of me, but I approved. "Don't feel ashamed to ask for help if you think you'll need it," I whispered. "I know it's me coming up with the study plans, but it's you guys who are putting in the work to memorize everything. I just happen to have an idea on how you guys best learn."

MJ gave a tiny chuckle. "Like lines on a script, right?"

I nodded. "I can do all the highlighting and mirroring in the world, but if you don't spend the time to memorize your lines or practice your deliveries, there's no point."

"...heh. Alright, Pete." She shuffled her cards a couple times before handing them to me. "Let's go one more time."

/ - /

I dropped the wrapper of my protein bar into the trash, quietly making my way towards Harry's table. It never sat right with me, but a couple years back Harry had gotten it into his head to only eat twice a day. He always got his necessary calories after MJ and I got on his case that first summer, and I was pretty sure he only started doing it so he could try and impress his father with his dedication to working throughout the day.

Harry said nothing for several pages as I got started on my homework from the morning's classes. Ideally I would have been working on ghost writing someone's report, but personal stuff came before side gigs. It wasn't until about halfway through the lunch break that he finally put his book down and massaged his eyes. "Hey, Pete."

"Hey, Harry." I double checked my answer, nodding to myself that everything lined up. "Work from your dad?" I didn't recognize the book title or author, but its phrasing felt very much in line with the required reading for a CEO hopeful.

"More readings from his library. Dad's been really busy lately and so Mr. Menken has been giving me projects in his stead."

I narrowed my eyes in thought. "Mr. Menken the..."

"Personal assistant for my father," Harry provided. "You've only seen him once or twice. He doesn't have much reason to be around the house. I usually only talk to him over the phone," he said with a shrug.

I hummed in acknowledgement. "You have much of a chance to put those readings to good use?"

He gave a humorless laugh. "No. Surprisingly my dad hasn't given me any chances to learn how to 'take over the company'. You'd think with as much as he harps on me for doing that, he'd give me some opportunities for it."

I nodded. Mr. Osborn wasn't someone who collected Father of the Year awards. He was just one of those 'parents' whose children could never be good enough, but the accomplishments of other kids would always be worthy of praise. I did my best to hype Harry up whenever possible, but things like that hit different if it came from someone significantly older than you. "Have you thought about doing stuco?"

"Stuco?"

"Student Council," I clarified. "Not quite as glamorous as an appointed position out in the field, but it could be a stepping point." I stared balefully at my next problem, annoyed by its minor complexity that required actual attention and not just a passing glance. "Same deal with a basic fast food job." I pushed my book slightly forward and crossed my arms. "Spend a couple months working the floor with the rest of the grunts, then see about using your father's connections towards getting a higher position."

"I'd rather try and get a position like that on my own merits, Pete," Harry said dryly.

"And that's admirable, Harry, but as much as we'd all wish otherwise, it's connections that get people places." For a tiny moment, I wished I still had my glasses so I could adjust them for emphasis. "Because of my sister, I know a lot of people on their way into various positions. I've got their numbers, Cindy lets me hang out with them from time to time when their schedules sync up, heck," I sat up, leaning forward. "One of the guys I know, Quentin Beck, he's getting ready to go to LA in a year or two for work in the film and entertainment industry. He's taught me a bunch of stuff about CG editing and sometimes we send files back and forth about different models and rigging. Between the two of us, we've built up an amazing portfolio and I'm pretty sure if I bothered to get the kind of tech he has, I'd probably be able to be there right alongside him on the West Coast.

I cleared my throat, vaguely aware I might have forgotten my point. "What I'm trying to say is: be your amazing self, but make sure to grease some wheels here and there so if you ever come down the line, things can go more smoothly."

Harry stared down at the table for a couple seconds before he pulled his book back into his hands. "Stuco, huh?"

"Mm. I'm not sure exactly where they meet up, but poke your head around. I'm sure a teacher or administration would know."

/ - /

"Thanks, Flash."

"See you, MJ!"

I raised a hand in greeting slash passing as Flash drove off, slowing to a casual walking pace when MJ noticed me.

"Hey there, Tiger." She gave me a tiny once over and smirked. "Not that you need it, but getting more exercise in?"

I rolled my eyes and bumped shoulders with her, making my way to my front door. "Something along those lines. What about you? Rehearsal today?"

MJ announced her presence when she walked in after me (Uncle Ben called back in greeting from his room), taking off her shoes like I did and settling down in the living room while I made my way upstairs. "And some studying with Flash. He was having some issues with his side of the project." She stared at my change of clothes when I came back down for a moment before shaking her head; a graphic tee for some grassroots band I highly doubted still existed considering the logo was starting to fade even before I picked up the shirt. "Think you can check in with him at some point? Make sure he's doing alright?"

"Yeah, 'course." I glanced through all her papers for a moment before scooting in a little closer. "Alright, so what's got your tongue this time?"

MJ quickly pointed off all her concerns for her day's lessons, moving papers and textbooks as needed. Over the course of an hour and a half, we worked through everything, with her filling in some quieter moments with news from around the school. "Hey, Pete?" she asked as she was finishing up the last few questions of her current assignment.

"What's up?" I saved my file once again, making sure to do the same for the backup.

MJ scooted towards me so that our legs were touching, leaning forward slightly so that she was looking at me from the corner of her eye. "So... what were you and your sister doing last night?"

"Went out to see some of her friends," I answered. It wasn't a lie. Not technically. I didn't really see them, but she definitely did. As a rule they all tried to see each other at least once a month, be it individually or as a group. I kept a handful of salvaged hard drives around specifically for cases where said meetings might have ruined their laptop's storage devices.

"But multiple times the past few weeks?" She pushed a little closer, keeping her elbow firmly against my arm. "I know you convinced her to change the muffler on her car—"

"Baffle," I quietly corrected.

"—but her motorcycle still makes some noise when you guys come and leave home, especially your garage. So?" She nudged me a few times with her elbow. "What has Parker and Moon been up to, lately?"

"I'm thinking about joining in on World Chase Tag," I lied. There was a part of me that felt bad about how easily it slipped out, but what was I supposed to say? 'I'm learning how to control my new spider-based powers'? "Some of Cindy's friends work in obstacle course places. They've been letting me use their equipment while they work on school stuff."

MJ hummed. "And the running's part of that?"

I shrugged and nudged her slightly away, getting a bit uncomfortable with the prolonged physical contact. "I mostly need sprint endurance so technically I should be focusing on suicides, but I don't really think the whole WCT thing will pan out so I might as well keep up my marathon endurance."

She hummed once more and inched away slightly. "Oh, Flash told me to ask if you heard about that 'Screwball' streamer or whatever."

"The girl that streamed her Breaking and Entering?"

MJ's eyes widened in shock. "That's what Flash was getting excited about?"

I nodded, still moderately disgusted by his fascination with the girl. "Apparently she and her crew are trying to take advantage of the crap going on in Long Island. For a bunch of kids with masks on, they're pretty smart about how they're doing things."

"What do you mean?"

"Long Island is having a huge surge in crime right now. Things along the lines of armed robberies, extortions, car break ins, the works." I pulled up recent news reports on my phone as I spoke. "Most of these crimes tend to result in one or more people having to go to the hospital, so police patrols are increasing, especially in the areas where things are kicking off. Screwball and her 'thugs' only carry blunt weapons to break into places and bust stuff up, and all they really take are snacks and junk. They haven't really messed around with stealing actual cash or equipment yet, and her livestreams never show where they're at. It's only sky views or backdrops against plain walls, if not just the inside of the store they're messing up. I have no legal experience—" yet, I thought— "but all things considered, I'm pretty sure they'd get away pretty easily if they ever get caught."

/ - /

For someone whose guardian was set to 'expire' soon, I admittedly wasn't being the best nephew slash son.

I moved through another form, focusing on the way my muscles felt as my arms moved through the circular motions of tai chi.

Peter Parker gained his powers. Uncle Ben dies as a result of his (in)action down the line. It was just a fact of my existence.

I held my next pose for a few moments, internally frowning at the utter lack of strain such an act held. Nearly thirty minutes into my exercise, I should have been feeling something by now. Realistically I knew what I was supposed to be capable of, but testing it like this and actually realizing it was entirely different.

I let out a slow breath. If anyone (namely Cindy) were to ask if I was trying to avoid home, it was entirely possible I'd give a quiet yes. When you had the rest of your life moving on and requiring your attention, how were you supposed to handle the knowledge that someone close to you could die at any moment?

I sighed once more, dropping my stance and instead meandering up a naked I-beam. The previous knowledge I had of Spider-Man as a whole was sparse, even before a decade of unuse. Peter got bit, Uncle Ben got killed, throw in a goblin, a rhino, a shocker, an electric man, and an octopus, and never let Peter have a good year. It always had to be one trouble after another. A good week, sure. A good month? Maybe. But never a good year. Something always had to happen; something always had to go wrong.

I stood upside down for maybe another minute before I reached up and pulled myself into an upright sitting position. "In my mind I have already fallen," I muttered. "And so I must climb."

The life of Peter Parker was supposed to be one of hardship. But Peter Parker didn't normally have the network I did. Teachers, friends; neighbors and store owners; I had help all around me. And most important of all: I had an amazing sister who would probably burn the world if ever it were to turn against me.

"But first thing's first." I shot two webs onto the beams beside me, falling forward the two stories to the ground and landing with far too much slack in my lines. "Can't be much of a webslinger if I can't sling some webs." I mentally marked some targets around me, moving my hands into position. "Alright, Spider-Man. Take it from the top."

Next chapter will be released September 4th.