Peter hadn't said a word in the drive to the hospital and neither had his Uncle Ben, they both sat there in silence not saying a word to each other. But Peter knew this wouldn't last forever and as soon as he pulled up to the hospital Uncle Ben turned to look at Peter.
"You got lucky Peter, Miss Jones agreed to testify that Flash assaulted Gwen in the girl's bathroom. His family agreed not to press charges as long as they didn't," Uncle Ben stated.
Peter felt a bit of relief and quite a lot of gratitude towards Jessica, She didn't need to back him up but she did it anyway 'I'll need to thank her somehow.' he thought to himself.
"I'm disappointed in you Peter." Uncle Ben said as he looked towards his nephew.
"I know things haven't always been easy and that you're in a time in your life where things are constantly changing, but hurting that boy as badly as you did..."
"That is not how me and your Aunt May raised you," He said with a stern look on his face.
"He hurt Gwen!" Peter said incredulously.
"And he would've gotten away with it too! They would've swept it under the rug like they always do!" Peter shouted.
"So you decided to take this matter into your own hands?" His uncle asked calmly.
"Damn right!" Peter replied.
"I won't let Flash get away with it anymore, he's escaped justice too many times and for what?! Because he can throw a ball at really far!" Peter almost growled. The anger he felt from all the times he'd been hurt by Flash bubbled beneath the surface and threatened to overwhelm him.
"Justice?" Uncle Ben rose his brow.
"That boy's injuries weren't the result of justice Peter, that was vengeance," Uncle Ben said severely. He then let out a long sigh. "I know you have a good heart," Uncle Ben continued. "You got the best parts of your parents. But you've got to learn the difference between righting a wrong and settling a score." He reached over and put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "These next few years are going to shape the man you become. I want you to think hard about who you want that man to be."
Peter swallowed. "What, you think I'm turning into some kind of criminal now?"
"No," Uncle Ben said immediately. "This isn't about becoming a criminal. This is about responsibility. That boy you hurt, he probably won't play football again. He may never hold a pen in that arm properly again. I want you to sit with that for a minute. Whatever gifts you've got now, you have to decide how you're going to use them."
Peter stared straight ahead.
Uncle Ben leaned in a little closer. "Peter with great power—"
Peter cut him off. "Look, Uncle Ben, I don't need the lecture right now. Thanks for the ride. I'm going to go see Gwen."
He yanked the door handle, stepped out, and slammed the door behind him harder than he meant to. The sound echoed across the parking lot. Uncle Ben stayed in the driver's seat for a long moment. He let out a long sigh, dropped his forehead against the steering wheel, and closed his eyes.
Peter walked toward the hospital entrance without looking back.
_____________________________________
Peter walked down the hospital corridor with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, histhoughts louder than the squeak of his trainers against the polished floor.
He was still angry.
Still replaying the car ride over and over in his head.
He could not believe Uncle Ben had not taken his side.
Would Uncle Ben really have stood there and done nothing if someone had shoved Aunt May the way Flash shoved Gwen. Would he have talked about restraint then. About consequences. About being the bigger man.
Peter exhaled slowly through his nose.
That was not fair.
He knew it was not fair.
He forced himself to focus on the room numbers instead of the argument in his head.
198.
199.
200.
201.
He stopped outside the door and stood there for a second longer than necessary, suddenly nervous in a way he had not expected.Then he knocked once and pushed the door open. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and something floral from the bouquet sitting on the windowsill.
Gwen was propped up on pillows, looking a little pale but otherwise fine, her blonde hair falling loosely over one shoulder. There was a small bandage near her temple and her arm was in a sling. George Stacy sat stiffly in the chair beside her bed, while her mother Helen Stacy was on the other side, holding Gwen's hand.
The moment Peter saw her chest rise and fall relief hit him so hard his knees almost felt weak. He crossed the room without thinking and wrapped his arms around her carefully, conscious of how strong he was now. "I'm so glad you're okay," he whispered into her hair.
She hugged him back without hesitation. "I'm okay, Pete," she said softly.
It seemed they'd hugged for a moment too long as Mr Stacy cleared his throat.
Peter pulled back immediately, feeling a blush warm his face. "It's good to see you, Mr and Mrs Stacy," he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Helen smiled kindly and stood up. "It's good to see you too, Peter. It has been far too long since you came over. You need to stop by soon."
"I will," Peter said. "Things have just been busy the last few months."
George studied him for a long moment. "You're lucky, Peter," he said finally. "I got a call from the Thompsons while I was at the precinct. They were very eager to see you in handcuffs by the end of the day."
Peter winced visibly.
Gwen's head snapped toward him. "Peter Benjamin Parker. You did not."
Peter gave a tight smile. "I might have overreacted."
"Overreacted," George repeated flatly.
"I just got mad when I heard what he did to you," Peter admitted.
"You idiot," Gwen said, swatting his arm with her good hand. "You could have gotten expelled."
"I only got a two week suspension," he said defensively.
She slapped him harder. "That is not any better."
Helen hid a smile behind her hand. "Come on, George," she said gently. "Let's get some coffee. And a juice for Gwen." She hooked her arm through her husband's and steered him toward the door.
George paused before stepping out. "Peter," he said. "We will talk soon."
Peter swallowed. "Yes sir."
The door clicked shut.
Gwen let out a slow breath and sank back into her pillows. "You are unbelievable," she muttered.
Peter dragged the chair closer and sat down beside her bed. "I couldn't just let it go," he said quietly. "He hurt you."
"It was a shove," she replied. "He didn't mean to hurt me like that."
"It doesn't matter I won't let him hurt us anymore," he said finally. "You. Me. Ned. Anyone."
Gwen reached out and took his hand. "You have to be careful, Pete. With your abilities you have to be more responsible. There are consequences to your actions."
He gave a small laugh.
"You sound exactly like my uncle."
"Maybe he's right," she said gently. "You have these powers for a reason. And I don't think that reason is beating up assholes like Flash."
He sighed and looked down at their hands. "Let's not talk about that," he said. "I was scared, Gwen. You have no idea how scared."
Her expression softened. "I am okay," she said again. "Just a nasty fall. It is not enough to put me down."
She flexed her skinny arm with exaggerated effort.
Peter laughed despite himself. "Very intimidating."
"Terrifying," she agreed.
He leaned in and kissed her softly. "I cannot lose my first girlfriend a day after getting her," he murmured.
She snorted. "Don't try to kill me off yet, Parker. I plan on sticking around." She reached up and booped him lightly on the nose.
He smiled at her for a moment before he checked his watch. "Where is Ned. I thought he would be here by now."
"He came earlier," Gwen said. "While you were probably being lectured by the principal. But he had to leave quickly. Apparently he forgot to tape the season finale of Lord and Commander 3 and that was an emergency."
Peter nodded solemnly. "Understandable."
"How long are they keeping you," he asked after a moment.
"A few days," she said. "Observation mostly. Dad pretends he is not panicking but I can tell."
Peter squeezed her hand. "Guess I will have a lot of time to visit," he said with a small smirk.
"Oh maybe I should not let you," she replied teasingly. "As punishment for getting suspended."
He leaned slightly closer. "That seems excessive."
Before he could close the distance he heard footsteps approaching. He leaned back immediately just as George and Helen reentered the room carrying two coffees and a juice box.
George set the drinks down carefully. "Peter," he said evenly. "Visiting hours are almost over. I am sure Gwen appreciates the visit. But we would like some time with our daughter."
Peter stood quickly. "Of course. No problem, Mr Stacy."
He looked at Gwen. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She smiled at him, "Later, Pete."
Helen gave him a warm look. "Come over soon." She rubbed his arm.
"I will," he promised before he walked toward the door and stepped back into the hallway. As he left he turned round once more and looked at Gwen. He had to remind himself she was fine and that he'd see her tomorrow, otherwise he doubted he would've left.
...
Peter stepped out of the hospital into the cold night. He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and blew warm air onto them. The sun had dropped hours ago, and the cold bit straight through his jacket. He pulled out his phone, typed a quick text to Uncle Ben telling him he did not need a ride and would walk home himself, then shoved the phone back into his pocket.
He jogged down the hospital steps and turned onto the familiar streets of Queens. A few blocks later he slipped into a narrow alley between two apartment buildings. He glanced both ways to make sure no one was watching, crouched and pushed off the ground. His body launched straight up. He slapped one palm against the brick wall halfway up, kicked off again with his feet, and kept going, bouncing from one side to the other until he cleared the rooftop edge. He flipped forward and landed on the gravel in a crouch.
'That will never not be cool,' he thought as he stood up and started running across the roof. He slid under a ventilation duct on his knees, rolled to his feet, and leaped off the far edge. He caught the next building then vaulted over the parapet and kept moving. The city blurred beneath him while he jumped gaps, swung around fire escapes, and flipped over antennas.
Then a scream cut through the night from the alley below.
Peter stumbled, his foot slipping on loose gravel. He windmilled his arms for balance and managed to slap both hands down on the roof edge. His palms stuck instantly and he hung there for a second, while his heart was as hammering. After a moment he then peered over the side. In the alley below, two guys had a girl backed against a dumpster.
Peter recognized her immediately.
MJ. Mary Jane Watson.
'What the hell is she doing out here this late?' MJ lived pretty much next door to him, she had no reason to be here this late.
MJ pressed her back flat against the brick wall. Her hands were up in front of her chest like she could push the men away if she tried hard enough. The bigger one, a guy with a shaved head and a thick neck, stepped closer. "Damn," he said. "I haven't seen a girl this hot in years. They sure do make them different nowadays, right Bink?"
The other one, taller and built like he lived in the gym, licked his lips. "For damn sure, Cal. Not even my sidepiece has a body like that, and she's damn near twice her age."
MJ's voice shook. "P-Please leave me alone. I promise I won't say anything if you stop now."
Cal adjusted the front of his pants and grinned. "You assuming you'll be able to say anything after we're done with you?"
MJ started trembling. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She whispered, "Please," but the word came out so small it barely carried.
"You know she seems awfully young for you, don't you think? I mean you're practically a few years away from retirement."
Both men turned.
Peter stood at the mouth of the alley now. He had pulled his jacket hood up and wrapped the bottom of his T-shirt over the lower half of his face like a makeshift mask.
Bink waved him off without looking. "Fuck off, kid, unless you want Cal here to take a piece out of you."
Peter tilted his head. "I guess it could be because you have a tiny dick. Would make sense why you'd want a smaller girl. I bet most normal women don't even know you're there."
Bink's face twisted. He spun around and charged. His fist swung in a wide haymaker aimed straight at Peter's head.
Peter saw the punch coming in slow motion. He leaned his head to the side just enough for the fist to whistle past his ear and smash into the brick wall behind him. A loud crack echoed through the alley as Bink's knuckles shattered against the stone. The big man sucked in a sharp breath but didn't scream.
"Ouch," Peter said. "I hope you have insurance for that. Though I hear there aren't many health benefits to being a thug."
Bink growled and cradled his broken hand. "I'm going to beat you to a bloody pulp and let Cal fuck your broken body."
Peter raised both hands. "Whoa. Starting to think I should've just let you punch me."
Bink swung again with his good fist. Peter ducked under it, jumped straight up, flipped over Bink's head in mid-air, and landed behind him. Bink spun and threw a wild backward elbow. Peter caught the arm at the wrist and twisted his hips. He yanked hard and hurled Bink forward. The big man flew through the air, slammed chest-first into the opposite wall, and cracked the brick in a spiderweb pattern. He slid down the wall and crumpled unconscious on the dirty pavement.
Cal stared at his partner sprawled on the ground. Then he looked at Peter, who stood maybe five-eight and a hundred pounds lighter than Bink. Cal fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a folding knife, and snapped the blade open. He lunged forward, grabbed MJ around the waist from behind, and pressed the edge of the knife against her throat.
MJ screamed and froze.
"You better stay the fuck back!" Cal shouted. "I'll cut this bitch!"
Peter raised both hands slowly and started backing up until his shoulders hit the wall behind him. "No need for that, pal."
Cal's voice cracked. "What are you doing? Stop moving!"
Peter pressed his palms flat against the brick and pushed and the wall groaned and cracked. A fist-sized chunk of masonry broke free into his hand. He closed his fingers around it.
Cal laughed, but it sounded shaky. "Now I'm gonna tell you what's gonna happen. You sit there and watch while I have my way with this fine piece of ass. You move at all and I'll give her a nice red smile."
MJ trembled so hard her teeth chattered. The knife stayed pressed to her skin.
Peter closed one eye, lined up his arm, and flicked the chunk of brick as hard as he could. The piece shot forward like a bullet. It slammed into Cal's shoulder with a meaty thud. The impact jerked Cal's arm sideways. The knife flew away from MJ's throat.
Peter exploded off the wall. He crossed the alley in a single stride. Before Cal could even register the movement Peter had grabbed the wrist holding the knife. He squeezed and crunched the bones in his wrist under his fingers making Cal scream and dropp the blade.
"Time to go night night," Peter said. He grabbed the back of Cal's head with his other hand and drove it forward into the brick wall. Cal's eyes rolled back and he collapsed in a heap.
Peter dropped to one knee beside the unconscious man and patted him down quickly. No gun. No second knife. Just a thick roll of cash in the front pocket. Peter hesitated. He thought about the stack of bills on the kitchen table at home.
He slipped the money into his own pocket.
He stood up and turned to MJ. She stood frozen against the wall, her eyes wide, breathing in short gasps.
Peter stepped toward her slowly and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay now."
MJ flinched hard. "NO! NO! Get off me! Leave me alone!" She thrashed trying to shove him away.
Peter caught her shoulders gently. "MJ, calm down!"
She kept fighting, completely panicked.
Peter yanked the T-shirt down from his face and cupped her cheeks with both hands so she had to look at him. "MJ. Calm down. It's me. You're safe now."
Her eyes focused on his face. "Peter?"
He gave her a small smile. "Yeah. It's me."
MJ's breathing slowed. She stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time. "H-How did you... I mean when—"
"Maybe we should save the questions for later," he said. "How about I walk you home? We're going the same way anyway."
She nodded faster than she had in her entire life. Peter unzipped his jacket and offered it to MJ, something whifh she gladly took. MJ's eyes flicked down to his bare chest for a second. She swallowed. Peter noticed but pretended he didn't. He pulled the T-shirt back over his head and gestured toward the street.
Before they left the alley he pulled out his phone, dialed 911, and gave the address. He asked MJ if she wanted to stay and give a statement. She shook her head. She just wanted to go home. On her way past the two unconscious men she stopped, reared back, and kicked each of them hard between the legs. Peter winced at the sound.
They walked in silence for the first few blocks. MJ stayed close to him, closer than she would have with anyone else. Eventually Peter broke the quiet.
"So how come you're out so late?"
MJ blinked like she had been somewhere else. "I was at the hospital visiting Flash."
Peter winced.
Another silence stretched out. MJ fidgeted with the zipper on his jacket. "I was pretty shocked when I heard about your fight with him. I thought maybe you'd gone crazy or something. But then I found out he hurt Gwen and put her in the hospital. So I went to break up with him. He was always kind of an asshole, but I never thought he'd actually hurt her."
MJ glanced at him. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... he deserved it."
Peter looked at her in surprise. She caught his expression and smirked a little. "I know we haven't been close these past few years," she said, "but I used to be just as close with Gwen as you were. He crossed the line when he hurt her."
Peter let out a long breath. "That's a relief. To be honest I never understood why you went out with Flash in the first place."
MJ sighed. "It's complicated. Truth is we weren't really dating. I needed money. He offered to pay me if he could tell people we were together."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Kinda makes sense now why you never reacted when he flirted with other girls. What do you need money for that bad anyway?"
"Complicated," she said. "But it doesn't matter now. I called the deal off and told him exactly where to stick it."
Peter chuckled.
Eventually they reached her front steps. MJ stopped and turned to him. "Listen, Peter... thanks for tonight. I don't even want to think about what might have happened if you hadn't shown up."
Peter nodded. "I'm glad you're okay. But if you could do me a favor and keep this on the down low, I don't think I need more attention after the Flash thing."
MJ nodded quickly. "Of course. Whatever you want."
They stood there for a long moment. Neither of them moved. Then MJ stepped forward, rose onto her toes, and kissed him on the lips. "Goodnight," she said with a small smile. She turned and walked inside.
Peter stood frozen on the sidewalk. Shit. Gwen is gonna kill me. He shook it off, backed up a few steps, and jumped. He stuck to the side of his house, climbed straight up to the second-floor window, pushed it open, and slipped inside his room.
He sat down at his desk and stared at the wall. Tonight had almost gone wrong. He had gotten lucky with the rock throw. He needed something that gave him more reach, something he could control from a distance. His eyes landed on his notebook. He grabbed it, flipped to a fresh page, and started writing formulas and sketches.
Web fluid.
Synthetic.
Strong.
Flexible.
Retractable shooters maybe.
'Only suitable for a spider to have webs,' he thought.
(AN: Tbh I really like this story even if it can be a little dark at times. I'm a huge spider man fan but I've not been that encouraged to write it cause it was so terribly written. Anyway hope you guys are enjoying it.)
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