[Third Person Pov]
"What do you mean you have to save your daughter?" Peter asked, his tone shifting from playful curiosity to firm concern. The earlier light-hearted atmosphere that had been circling the group evaporated almost instantly, replaced by a tense stillness.
"None of your business! Now let me go!!" Marko barked. He lurched to his feet, muscles tightening, and swung his cuffed hands toward Peter in a clumsy but desperate punch.
Peter smoothly twisted aside. "Woah, man— I'm just trying to help you." He noticed Lizzy and Felicia tense, both ready to jump in, but he raised a hand to stop them. "Let me handle it," he murmured, still keeping his voice calm.
He stepped lightly around another of Marko's wild swings. "Just talk to me. If your daughter's in danger, we can help save her. But you need to tell me what's actually going on."
"You can help me by letting me go!" Marko's voice cracked, raw with panic. "She's my daughter! I'm the one who has to save her! She's only in this mess because of me!" His face twisted with anguish as he threw another punch, more plea than attack.
Harry and Aria ran over just in time to see Peter stop moving entirely. Marko's fist collided with Peter's cheek—hard—but the impact barely made Peter flinch. Marko, on the other hand, recoiled with a cry of pain, clutching his hands.
"Ah—! Damn it!" he snarled, doubling over.
Peter sighed. "Feel better?" he asked dryly. "Do you need a Snickers, too?" His expression hardened as he reached forward and grabbed Marko by the front of his shirt. "Enough. Stop swinging and start talking."
Marko's eyes widened, stunned by the sudden steel in Peter's voice.
"This isn't the time to play the lone-wolf dad," Peter continued. "You said your daughter needs saving, which means she's in danger right now. You being stubborn isn't helping her. We're heroes—helping people is what we do. So let us help you. Let us help her."
Marko's breath shook. He glanced around the beach at the lineup surrounding him—Spider-Man, Spider-Kat, Firestar, Nightwing, Arachnid, and now Ghost and Scarlet-Spider arriving fresh from their last rescue. Every angle he looked, he saw people capable of stopping him in an instant.
And with his abilities still shorted out and no way to fight or flee, his resistance finally cracked.
His shoulders sagged. His fists unclenched.
"My past…" he murmured. "My past is catching up to me. And now it's caught up to my daughter too."
A heavy silence fell.
"Before I got my abilities… back when my daughter was in the hospital, I was desperate." Marko swallowed hard, shame flickering across his face. "I needed money. Bad. So I went to some loan sharks. They gave me what I needed, but the interest was…"
Several of the heroes exchanged quiet, understanding looks, but none interrupted him.
"I only managed to pay them back recently." His expression shifted as the pieces clicked. "Which… I'm guessing was because of you, wasn't it?" His eyes drifted toward Peter. "Even after what I pulled last time, none of you came after me. That always bothered me. Everything in my life suddenly got easier…"
Peter awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
"The story…" he mumbled, clearly not interested in being thanked.
Marko exhaled shakily. "Yeah. Well… right after I paid off the original debt, they told me I still owed them interest. A lot of it." His jaw tightened. "They knew about my abilities. They knew how our fight went down last time. They wanted me to work for them—robberies, heists, whatever they pointed at."
His voice darkened.
"I refused. Obviously."
He looked down at his injured hands, voice barely above a whisper.
"I got lucky getting away the first time. But I wasn't going to risk getting dragged into that again. Not when I have my daughter to think about. So… I said no."
Marko's expression slowly warped into something far darker—a mixture of rage, guilt, and fear. "They didn't like that I told them no," he said, voice low and trembling with fury. "To force me to comply… they attacked my ex-wife while she was out with Keemia. They grabbed her right in front of my ex-wife and took her."
The group collectively stiffened.
Gwen stepped forward, her mask tilting slightly. "Is your ex-wife alright?" she asked, lenses narrowing in genuine concern.
Marko swallowed, jaw tight. "She's… shaken up. Terrified. I barely got anything out of her before they cut the call. But she's alive. For now." His eyes drifted downward, watching lingering grains of sand crumble and fall from his palms. "This whole thing has her traumatized."
Peter folded his arms, expression tightening. "Then I take it that Martin—the guy you were screaming for earlier—is the one responsible? And he was on the cruise you attacked?"
Marko let out a harsh exhale and nodded. "Yeah. Bastard kidnaps my daughter and then thinks he can just go enjoy himself on a damn vacation." His fists clenched.
Peter shook his head. "Marko… look. I understand why you did it, but that doesn't mean I approve. You could've seriously hurt someone. Or worse." The reprimand in his voice was firm but not cruel.
"He took my daughter!" Marko snapped, his voice breaking with desperation. "What choice did I have?!"
Peter shot back just as strongly, "You always have a choice! You could've contacted us. We would've helped you! It's literally not hard—we have an app for this kind of situation!"
Marko's glare hardened. "Easy for you to say. Look around, Spider-Man. You've got all of these people with you. You don't know what it's like to only have yourself. People like me don't get to ask for help."
Peter let out a slow breath through his nose. "You're right. Maybe it is easy for me. But you're still a father, Marko." His voice softened, but the words were heavy with meaning. "And that means you don't get to think selfishly. You have to think responsibly."
Marko's posture stiffened as Peter continued.
"Even if you saved her on your own… what would happen afterward? If you wound up in prison, your daughter would still lose her father. And your ex-wife would have to raise her alone. What good would that do to anyone?"
Peter reached forward, gently resting a hand on Marko's shoulder. "I'm not lecturing you as Spider-Man talking to Sandman. I'm talking to you as one dad to another. We don't get the luxury of acting on impulse, not when our kids need us. We have to be role models—whether we feel like it or not. The only question is what kind of example you want to set for your daughter."
With that, Peter unclipped the power dampener and removed it from Marko's wrists.
Sand immediately rippled up Marko's arms, swirling around him like a storm trying to reform. His expression darkened as he stared down at the sand reshaping his hand. His fingers morphed, twisting into a heavy Morningstar.
He swung.
A whoosh of air tore past Peter's face as the spiked mass halted mere inches from his nose.
No one moved. Not Gwen. Not Harry. Not even Aria.
Peter didn't flinch.
Marko's arm trembled violently… then slowly lowered. His hand re-formed back into flesh. "Are you really a father?" he asked quietly, almost disbelieving.
Peter jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Aria immediately struck a pose with over-the-top confidence.
"Yo!" she chirped, giving a two-finger salute.
Peter smirked. "A chip off the old block."
Marko blinked at her… then at Peter… and finally exhaled, defeated but calmer. His hand settled back to normal.
Peter's voice softened again. "If you ever need help, all you have to do is ask. Just say the word."
There was a long silence. Marko stared at the floor, shoulders shaking slightly. Then he closed his eyes, breath hitching.
"…Please." His voice was barely audible. "Help me save my daughter."
Peter placed a reassuring hand on his arm and smiled gently. "Of course we will."
He straightened and looked to the others.
"The Spider-Family is on the job."
The team nodded, voices overlapping with determination as they stepped into formation behind Peter—united, ready, and already preparing for the rescue mission ahead.
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