chapter three!
003. don't touch the artwork

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    NINA HITCHED a ride on the subway to the Upper West side of New York City. From there, she followed the maps on her phone to where Fisk was holding his estate sale. As she walked through the streets, Nina Hart configured the best story she will play. It wasn't the first time she has stuck her nose into a place it didn't belong, hoping to gather information and report back to her favourite webslinger at the time. She has managed to come up with many last minute game plans and alibis that got her into places Nina just as herself could never dream of seeing. She was surprised that so far, only twice has she been caught▬but never arrested. Either she would manage to talk her way out of it or Peter swung in to save to say. And some part of her found that frustrating, to somehow▬no matter how hard she tried not to be▬always end up as the damsel in distress. The girl falling to her death in her dreams. She hated experiencing that▬terrified of it, actually.

    This time, however, she wouldn't have Spider-Man to help her escape if things went downhill. Nina needed to be smart and not slip up▬at all. Fisk may now be in prison, but his gang were still out on the streets: dangerous people with dangerous tempers. Nina wouldn't be surprised if this Rose Rosemann had one of these people as close as a text or a phone call away.

    It seemed unlikely that coming here would lead to anything. But Nina had a feeling that she couldn't ignore▬not just a feeling, really, because that would be relying on intuition alone. Nina knew of how Fisk worked. Last year, the Kingpin created his Fisk Foundation▬his attempt to showcase to the city he had come back to New York as a changed and generous man. He raised money through charitable auction houses, claiming he was going to improve the lives of those living terribly in the streets. Instead, he laundered the money at his auction houses and construction sites. Peter's determination to end Fisk once and for all during those days had led to a lot of problems▬and a lot of dangerous slip ups. Nina supposed all that had happened with Fisk, Blood Spider and Echo was enough to push her already boiling troubles over the edge.

    But what had happened helped Nina understand the cruel mind of Wilson Fisk. He was not just a launder of money, but also a craft and cunning player in the game of chess that was organised crime. He knew not just how to use people, but how to use placings and things to hide things and how to hide them. He would hide knives and biological weapons in his walking cane. He would hide hard drives in the frames of paintings and payroll files in ancient statues.

    Perhaps it was risky, but if Wilson Fisk had a blackmail file on Norman Osborn, Nina just knew this was where he would hide it.

    Or ... at least she hoped. That was the very dangerous truth she was yet to admit.

    But as her feet came to a stop outside on the velvet carpet and she stared at bold lettering of the sign propped just under the veranda▬Nina knew there was no going back now. She glanced upwards at the rounded parapets and stone columns of an old nineteenth century facade. Rosemann's auction house looked quite like the lair of some horror character▬the banners of her newest sale were so dark-red in the night, that when the street lamp lights or passing cars gleamed across them, the shock of light made them freakishly look closer to the colour of blood.

    (And now Nina was making it worse for herself).

    She took a deep breath, quickly going over the story she will tell as she forced her feet to push herself onwards. Nina fiddled with her pen▬a stupid pen she bought last year that she couldn't seem to find herself able to get rid of (or use up all the ink). She turned the pen around in her fingers, brushing over little Spider-Man masks. Nina really should have gotten rid of it ... but she hasn't.

    It was colder inside. An air conditioner even in November. Nina fixed her jumper and followed the red carpet towards the main desk. Nina felt as though she had stepped into a museum. The walls of the auction house were polished oak. A dark, wooden varnish finish that gleamed a dim yellow from the focus lighting hanging above. Nina glanced around. Some items were on display outside from the main showcase: antique Japanese armour and tea sets behind illuminated glass cabinets.

    Nina tapped her pen against her notebook, gazing with a bright stare at the pieces. Fisk may be a terrible person, but she couldn't shame him for his taste in historical artefacts (even if some of them may have been shipped and purchased illegally). She was so distracted, that she didn't realise someone had approached her until she heard a very sharp and stern:

    "Uh▬excuse me?"

    She spun around, momentarily surprised. Around the front desk, came storming over Rose Rosemann▬Nina didn't need a name tag to make the assumption it was her. Not in the way she held herself with such importance in a way only someone who owned this auction house could. Nina swallowed any nerves she had to plaster a kind, eager smile onto her face. Rosemann matched the carpet in a designer pant-suit of crimson▬and she did not look happy. She eyed Nina up and down. She took in her knitted jumper over her scuffed jeans and the uneven lace of her boots. Nina stopped her before she'd finish her impression, having a feeling it was already far from something good.

    "Hi," Nina quickly blurted out, extending out her hand. "I'm Nina Hart."

    Rosemann didn't take it. Nina wavered slightly. Her hand fell back to her notebook▬she picked up her pen to fiddle with it again. The curator scoffed a little▬both annoyed and surprised. "Hello," she greeted, strained. "We close in five minutes."

    "Oh," Nina chuckled, shrugging sheepishly. "I▬I know. I just▬It's just▬well, I'm currently studying an Art's degree at E.S.U. and I really wanted to write my paper on Wilson Fisk's collection ... he has such unique and amazing antiques..."

    "Well," Rosemann wasn't impressed, "you can easily just come back tomorrow when we open."

    "Wait, no▬" Nina shuffled forward, "▬please, can I just look around? I won't take any longer than five minutes, I promise. I've been working and I've been so busy▬this paper is due at the end of the week▬" before Rosemann could cut her off again, Nina slumped. "Just, please? I really need to see this collection today."

    She wasn't sure whether it was how pitiful and desperate she looked, or whether it was because Rosemann knew she wouldn't take no for an answer▬but either way, in the end, she caved. "All right, fine," she said. "You can have a look around."

    Nina bit back a smug smile. She continued to fiddle with her things. "Wait▬" she backtracked. "A▬are you sure?"

    Rosemann forced a very fake smile on her face. "You're here. No moment like the present. I'll even take you around▬show you the key pieces on display." (To make her take as less time as possible▬Nina could easily understand what she meant by that).

    She forced this bitterness down, breathing out a long sigh of relief. "Oh, my God▬" she shook her notebook in her appreciation. "Thank you. Thank you, so much."

    Nina shuffled forward at the gesture of Rosemann's arm towards the room behind the counter. "Let's get started."

    Nina followed Rose Rosemann through the collection. As she spoke about eighteenth century theatre masks and fifteenth century tatami armour, Nina's attention drifted to other items in the room. They passed the centre display cases that held intricate tea sets and fans. There, Nina's eyes locked in on what was set out in the dim light at the very end. She hovered back slightly, her breath hitched as she recognised the blue-wrapped hilt of a sleek, well-looked after katana. This chill spread down her spine, knowing that was the same blade that nearly killed Peter the first time he and Fisk fought.

    Noticing she had fallen behind, Rosemann pursed her lips and motioned for Nina to speed up. "Come on," her words were clipped. "We don't have much time."

    "Yes," Nina rushed onwards, leaving the blade behind. "Sorry."

    She glanced at each artefact, artwork and tapestry on display▬Nina tried to think where she might find this file that was whispered about in OSCORP earlier today. So far, it seemed as though she was going to have no luck▬but she didn't let it stop her, just yet. She chewed at her bottom lip, reading a few of the labels as she tried to think. She wrote a few notes as she went along, purely just for show.

    They wandered into the second room and stopped by a golden historical piece▬a Baku, a creature in Japanese mythology that would devour dreams and nightmares with the trunk of an elephant, the tail of an ox and the feet of a tiger.

    "Here," Rosemann was saying. She eyed Nina in a way that she couldn't quite pinpoint▬and it set her on edge. "This will be a wonderful addition to your paper: a one-of-a-kind Kakiemon Baku."

    "Kakiemon..." Nina murmured as she quickly wrote the date of the sculpture on her notes. "Japanese porcelain?"

    There was a brief moment where Nina seemed to have impressed Ms. Rosemann. "Correct," she said with a small, surprised hum to herself.

    "It's beautiful."

    "Yes▬Mr. Fisk has ... exceptional taste."

    Nina glanced over the edge of her notebook at the way she said that word. She bit on her tongue for a second, not too sure whether she would be risking it too much to ask the questions that started to pick at her mind. But just gazing at these artefacts wasn't going to get her closer to finding this file. She had to try something different.

    She pursed her lips and brushed some of her hair out of her face, trying to act very casual as she asked. "Just curious. Did you ... uh ... did you know him well? You know, Fisk, before his arrest?"

    Rosemann chose her words carefully as they moved onto the next piece. Nina followed, her thumb hovering over the cap of her Spider-Man pen. "In a ... professional context," she decided to say in the end. "I handled many of his sales. Let's move on, shall we? I'll let you take a picture of the next one."

    "Oh▬" Nina quickly grabbed her phone out of her pocket. She readied her camera as they rounded towards a seventeenth century tapestry of Misshaku Kongo and Naraen Kongo. Statues of them were often found outside Buddhist temples in Japan; they protected the temple from evil spirits and demons. Nina once had to help a friend study back in college for his exams. He had majored in Japanese history▬and now, she was considering herself very grateful for those frustrating long nights. "Right. Thank you."

    She held her phone up, but she didn't take a photo. "Now," said Rosemann, "this exquisite piece exemplifies the traditional tarashikomi puddled-ink effect."

    "I can see why Fisk liked this piece," Nina murmured as she lowered her phone. She smiled. "Definitely his style. And of course, all the money from this auction will be put into his foundation?"

    "Of course," Rosemann clasped her hands in front of her suit blazer. "It was important to him to help people less fortunate."

    "I know its off topic..." went on Nina carefully, "... but I'm just so curious. Was there ever ... you know ..." she dropped her voice into a whisper, playing her part very well, "... anything strange in any of the sales you handled for him?"

    "No!" exclaimed Rose Rosemann quite abruptly. She shook her head▬she seemed quite startled by her question. "No, of course not! Not that I was aware of."

    She turned her back and continued on. Nina followed with a slight frown on her face. She didn't trust her answer▬she knew Rosemann wasn't telling her things. And it wasn't surprising. She housed Fisk's estate sales since he returned to New York, there was no way she wouldn't have done that without knowing he was laundering money. "If you look over here, you will notice the intricate gold inlay on this ceremonial tea set."

    Nina wasn't finished. She clicked her pen. "It's just▬somebody once said to me that Fisk used art sales to launder stolen goods: money, artefacts off the black market. And then hide them in other artworks? Wild shot, but have you heard of that?"

    That suspicious eye was growing from Rosemann. Nina's heart skipped a beat, thinking that perhaps she had taken a step too far. The way she glanced at her with that intrigued frown and then look away just as quick made Nina wince to herself. Perhaps she was too ambitious▬way too ambitious. "I'm sure ... I wouldn't know anything about that. Maybe we should stick to questions about the artwork? You know, for your college paper?"

    Nina pursed her lips. "Right," she muttered. "Yeah, 'course, just▬"

    She froze when she heard Rosemann's phone start to ring. Nina chewed at the inside of her cheek, frustrated▬knowing she had lost the little time she had to figure this out. Annoyed and defeated, Nina watched Rose Rosemann take her phone. "Dammit," she muttered as soon as she saw who was calling. "Wait here, please."

    Nina nodded and watched her go. She marched towards a pair of double doors that opened up into what looked like an office. She leaned sideways to try and see inside as Rosemann disappeared, answering her phone▬her breath hitched.

    There was a piece a part of Fisk's collection that was not included with the rest. Nina's heart stammered with this excited thrill▬she recognised the statue that was standing in that office alone. But soon, that trill turned into a twist in her stomach▬a dreadful feeling because it didn't make sense. That statue shouldn't be here at all. Nina rushed to take a quick picture with her phone. The Nio Guardian depicted on the tapestry Rosemann showed her before stood right there; a statue created out of pegged pieces of wood. But Nina didn't recognise this statue from helping her college friend study.

    Pete told her about this statue▬Fisk used it to hide evidence. It was exactly what Nina was looking for. If anything was hiding that file, it would be that statue. She began to wonder why the police hadn't taken it in the first place. But she did know one thing: she had to get into that room.

    And she had to think of how, very soon.

    Nina was quick to return her glance back to her phone, trying very hard not to seem as though she was showing any interest to what was hidden inside that room when Rosemann returned. She stepped back out into the main hall, closing the doors swiftly behind her.

    "My dear," she began in a very clipped tone▬Nina realised very quickly she was no longer welcome here, "I think it's time for you to go."

    She stammered▬she had to find a way to stay here long enough to get into that room. Nina blurted out the first excuse that came to mind: "I▬uh▬can I use the restroom first, please?" 

    Rose Rosemann sighed. Even though Nina could tell this was the last thing she wanted her to do, she regrettably gestured to the left. "Fine. The ladies is around the corner. Be quick."

    "Thank you," Nina started to walk backwards. "I'll be right back..."

    She started off at a slight job into the next section. She passed the mighty Nio tapestry once again before settling to a fast walk. Nina glanced over her shoulder when Rosemann couldn't see, seeing her immediately call whoever she was chatting with before.

    Nina didn't wait to hear who it was. She ducked around the corner into the theatre. But before she'd walk into the woman's rest room, she stopped. She kept her ears peeled, listening to Rosemann's voice grow distant as she moved on▬walking away as she spoke.

    Quiet, with a lot of effort to calm her pacing heart, Nina retraced her steps. She glanced back around the corner, eyeing Rosemann until she disappeared behind the large glass display of Japanese nihonga paintings and folding fans. Once she did, Nina surged forwards and dropped behind a set of wine trays▬most likely for the showcase that'll be happening at the end of the week. She followed them to the edge, holding her breath.

    Nina was nervous. She knew this was a stupid, crazy idea▬a stupid, crazy thing she was trying to do. She thought she had given all of this up. She had made the right decision to do so▬since then, her life has been normal despite her past. Yet, somehow, she had found herself back in the middle of it. And it wasn't even the thrill of helping Spider-Man that brought her to this decision. Nina had thrown herself into this situation▬and she was yet to figure out the reason as to why. What would she do once this was all finished? How would she get out?

    She was no superhero in a mask. She had no powers nor extraordinary skills. Nina Hart had always just been that▬Nina Hart. Human. Vulnerable, even if she hated that fact.

    Maybe that was it. Maybe doing this made her feel as if she was a hero▬made her feel like she was about to make a difference; to not just let something walk past her. She was trying to do something about this file.

    It was why she wanted to be a scientist. She wanted to do something about the world around her. Nina wanted to be a hero, in her own way.

    She will figure out what she was going to do with this file after she found it, and got out of here. She was doing this alone, but she will succeed in it because she had to.

    Nina hung at the edge of the trays, waiting for the right moment to move. She caught a part of Rosemann's phone call: "Don't lie to me, Craig, I know you've sent a reporter▬and she's clearly not working the puff piece we agreed upon. Yes. Yes. She. And she is here now. You may have thought you were smart, having her come under a pretence..."

    Slow and careful, Nina crossed the exhibit space. She walked on her toes, desperate to not make a sound on the tiles. When she reached the large display case and crouched by the glass, she let out a silent breath of relief.

    Hesitant as she looked around to follow Rosemann, she heard more of the conversation. "What do you mean he had to reschedule?" she stepped into the first room, close to the doors that had the statue hidden behind. She turned her back and Nina winced but swiftly moved across▬she made it to the pile of unopened boxes just in time, hiding behind them as Rosemann turned to face her.

    Nina peered through the cracks. She had to wait for Rosemann to move again before she risked getting closer. Her eyes rolled▬this conversation she was having with Craig was not a happy one. She realised Nina wasn't a student, but her assumption went astray in thinking she was a reporter▬but perhaps it was going to work in Nina's favour. "If she's not your reporter, who is she, Craig? No, don't tell me you don't know. I know you do. Well, then who is in my auction house...?"

    She continued her angry conversation back towards the way Nina had gone▬Rosemann slipped back into the second exhibit room. Her voice got softer and softer.

    This was going to be her only chance. Nina stood up and rounded the group of boxes. She rushed to the lower display cases, crouching and double checking where Rosemann was. Once she was sure she was far away, Nina continued right for the pair of oak doors. Hitching her breath, she opened them and slipped inside.

    She closed them again and resisted the urge to laugh at the absurdity of her luck.

    (She must have her fair share of it to manage that...).

    (But she had more important things to think about).

    Nina let herself take a breath, but not any more as she stepped up towards the statue. She let herself marvel at the sight of it for a moment, enamoured at the intricate work put into it with each piece of wood▬the shape of the robes that folded in perfect manner as in real life. The realism of the statue was incredible.

    She took a few steps to the side of it. This statue opened▬Fisk would hide evidence inside secret compartments. But it wasn't as simple as merely pulling a drawer or pressing a button. Nina tried her best to remember what Peter said▬one of the many things he told her as he lied back, in pain, on the pillow she gave him as she bandaged a gash he got from one of Fisk's thugs with a temper and a knife.

    "I thought you had a sense to avoid these sorts of things," she had said to him.

    "I can't avoid everything," he had replied in a meek defence, tired and only just finding a moment to rest▬ironically feeling safe in her apartment with her parents just down the hallway.

    She had still known him as just Spider-Man back then. And yet, even though he wore his mask▬her hovering over him as she looked after him seemed so intimate and gentle, that it almost felt as if he wasn't wearing a mask at all. He knew things about her she told no one else, and she felt as though she knew secrets about him in return. She knew about the scars on his chest▬the one she stared at, troubled, on his torso. Again and again and again.

    That day, her fingers had hovered nearby it before she could stop herself. She remembered the way she felt him shiver underneath her ghostly touch. "Yeah," Spider-Man had said to her in a voice different to how it had been before▬softer, lower ... husky underneath his mask. She had glanced over, admittedly rosy-cheeked. "That was a fun day▬Fisk nearly cut me in half like a pork chop. We love each other, me and Willie."

    "Why?" she asked. "What happened?"

    "He's a leader of organised crime," he watched her fingers as they pulled away and went to find another bandage. Nina had wondered, childishly, if he had missed the feeling. Spider-Man winced as he shifted slightly on her floor. His suit hung around his hips. "Launders money, steals artefacts from the black market▬all the cliche bad guy stuff, you know? He actually has this▬" he winced slightly when she pulled the bandage over the piece she had already placed to help stop the bleeding, "▬this statue. It opens up, and he hides stuff in it. Pretty cool, actually. You move different pieces and boom▬just like that▬secret compartments."

    "You talk a lot," Nina had chuckled.

    She remembered wondering whether Peter was smiling behind his mask when he replied: "Well, if you talk, I don't have to. I can just listen▬I like listening to you."

    "Trust me, I'm not that interesting."

    When she fixed the bandage, Spider-Man had lifted his hand so it covered hers, keeping it there. Nina's heart had fluttered to feel the touch of his fingers without his suit▬his hands were warm and larger than her's. "Hey," he had said gently as she met his stare; she imagined the colour of his eyes, "don't say that. You're one of the most interesting people I've ever met."

    Nina forced herself to stop the memory there. She didn't like thinking about it too much▬thinking about him. Even six months later, the pain was fresh in her chest; aching and hurting. Missing him, and yet knowing it was for the best that she left.

    He told her this statue opened by moving certain parts of it. Even now, she supposed his memory will help her in her endeavour. However much she wished it didn't, it still did.

    But she didn't know which parts were supposed to move▬and in what manner. She glanced around the room. The floor at her feet was a deeper red carpet than the one out by the front desk. The walls the same polished dark wood. There was a large bookshelf to her left, filled from top to bottom. But on her right, was a display case much like the ones outside. Except, this one encased four different gold-plated artefacts. Nina's feet carried her over before she held a second thought.

    As she drew closer, she noticed loose pamphlets lying around. Nina immediately picked them up▬her heart skipped a pace when she noticed the statue was on it. She quickly turned it around to read the blurb. She softly spoke as she read it: "'Notable for its modular design and five distinct points of articulation, this statue can adopt a multitude of poses. The most common is that of the Naraen Kongo: mouth closed, left arm down, right palm facing forward'..." Nina picked out the another brochure that had been slipped inside. She frowned, thoughtful, at the object the statue held in its left hand▬a golden piece with two spear-heads ...

    Her gaze fixed back onto the artefacts. Slowly, it drifted towards the statue. "Mouth closed, left arm down, right palm facing forward..." she murmured to herself again.

    Nina pursed her lips and clasped the brochure tight in one hand. She surged forwards to the statue and raised up onto her toes. Barely able to reach, she gently pushed the open mouth closed. Nina then grasped the statue's chin and turned it▬just like the picture. She followed it very closely▬left arm down ... right palm facing forward ...

    She stepped back with a hitch of her breath when something clicked inside the statue▬and automatically, it completed the pose for her ... falling into a natural state. But one thing was missing.

    Nina narrowed her eyes once more at the golden piece in the artwork depicted on the brochure. She set it back on the group of artefacts in the display case. Nina made her way back over and scowled at them all through the glass. She could feel her anticipation rise as she skimmed over each one with the picture in front of her. She hovered by the middle piece▬it seemed like the one in the picture, except the handles of the spear heads were too round. Nina moved on until finally, she set her gaze on the last one. She placed the picture on the glass right beside it and compared the two. Both spear-ends were sharp; it was smaller than the others, but despite that fact, looked almost identical to the one in the picture.

    She tried to open the display cabinet. But when she realised it was locked, Nina cursed softly to herself. She quickly rushed to the nearby drawer, in the shadow of a framed picture of Rosemann and Fisk (looking quite close, if Nina said so herself▬). She pulled open the top drawer and shuffled through many papers and loose pens▬until she found a small, pointed key.

    Nina grasped it in her palm and returned to the cabinet. Holding her breath, she prayed for that same good luck she had when sneaking in here as she tried to slip the key into the lock▬

    It fit perfectly. She turned it and chuckled, delighted when she could open the display case up. She reached in and grabbed the final artefact▬and it weighed heavier than she expected it to.

    With a little jog to her step, knowing she was already wasting too much time, Nina rushed back over to the statute. Ever-so-carefully, she slipped the artefact into the Nio's left hand.

    She stepped back when its fingers locked around the piece. Nina's eyes widened when a drawer from the statue's pedestal shot open▬she had to stumble back to avoid being hit in her ankles.

    "Wow," she whispered▬not quite believing what she had just managed to do. "I just▬it actually▬" Nina shook her head and crouched down.

    Her grin fell away when she realised that there was something inside. A single file. Nina's heart pounded. She was almost scared to touch it, but she reached out and picked it up. Her frown returned, deep and furrowed, as she read the sticky-note placed on top of a map of New York. A red circle was drawn right in the centre of the island.

    Nina's fingers itched their way towards the note. "Norman Osborn..." she read the name▬and she knew that this was the file that those board members at OSCORP had been whispering about. But the words written above the Mayor's name in bold marker sent her stomach into a sudden twist. DEVIL'S BREATH.

    Her words hitched in the back of her throat: "Devil's Breath?" she whispered. It was a horrible name▬and a horrible name could only mean a horrible thing. Nina went to open the file and try and see more. "What the hell▬?"

    Crash!

    She froze up and spun around, startled by the sound. Glass shattered outside the closed doors. Nina's heart jolted painfully in her chest. She forced her feet to move forwards until she was at the handles and carefully pushed it ajar enough for her to see through.

    Her stomach churned. Her heart picked up its pace to an even faster beat when she saw the men. There was a group of them▬men in dark suits and white shirts. Each of them carried fire-arms: machine guns with their fingers hovered over the trigger. Nina couldn't see their faces, because they were obscured by these horrific, terrifying black-and-white painted masks▬the only thing she could think to call them off the top of her head were ghosts. Or worse yet, demon masks.

    They marched their way past▬Nina quickly ducked into the shadows when one glanced over. Rosemann was not expecting them▬she rushed up to meet them, "Excuse me▬" she didn't see their guns. Nina held her breath and wanted to rush out there to stop her, but she was too late.

     She flinched when she heard Rose Rosemann scream. She heard a mighty slap▬and then the sound of her knees hitting the tiles. But there was no gunshot, not yet. Nina peered through the crack of the door, her wary confusion turning to terror when one of the men with a mask that had horns aimed his gun right at Rosemann struggling at his feet.

    "Where's the statue?" he demanded.

    "Shit▬" Nina realised the moment Rosemann's raised a shaky hand that she was in danger.

    "I▬In ... in there▬!"

    She had to get out of here. Nina spun around on her feet, desperate. When she saw a nearby door, she sprinted to it. She gently opened it as fast as she could▬footsteps were leaving Rosemann outside and getting dangerously close. Nina slipped out of the room and closed the door. Then, she hurried away and down the stairs▬she ran as fast as she could to find a place to hide, the file clutched tight in her hand.

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    PETER DIDN'T TASTE the cake, even though he knew he probably should have. But to see his Aunt May happy and chatting with those around her as she celebrated the five wonderful years she has volunteered at F.E.A.S.T., the exhaustion in Peter Parker's chest lifted enough to allow him to smile. He supposed after finally taking down King Pin, at least someone deserved a long-awaited victory▬he was glad it was his Aunt May. She may not know the trouble he had at his job this morning, she may not know he was running very late on his rent and she definitely did not know the mask he wore out in the streets▬but at least she was happy.

    He rolled up his flannel sleeves a little more, smiling at passing by volunteers and residents. F.E.A.S.T. was one of the best things New York City could be proud of▬Peter's aunt could be proud of. There were many homeless shelters around the city, and many ones under the banner of F.E.A.S.T.S., but the main shelter where May spent most her days was built upon genuine love and kindness within the bustle of Chinatown. Here, no person who was going through trouble in their life could feel ashamed, or helpless▬they could come and go as they pleased. They weren't patronised, nor were they forced help if they didn't want it. But if there was a chance one day, they wanted a bed and a meal on the table, they had a whole family of people who were going through exactly the same, and a whole family of staff to offer it to them.

    Peter Parker may be Spider-Man, but his Aunt May was the true superhero.

    He found his aunt glancing over and he quickly smiled, shooting her a thumbs-up as she finally enjoyed a slice of cake after making sure everyone else got a serving before her.

    Peter passed on by and caught sight of Martin Li standing alone by the collection of photographs that were set up along the blue plastered wall. The kitchen was full with lively discussion, but despite the celebration, the head of F.E.A.S.T. was just as solemn as Peter himself. He gazed at framed pictures of himself standing with many important people who knew how to smile, others news cuttings from papers that headlined him and F.E.A.S.T. doing great things. But no matter Martin Li's smile, there was always a weight to it that Peter understood.

    He let out a breath as he came to stand beside him. "Hey," said Peter, "thanks again for setting all this up."

    The solemn stare Martin Li held disappeared behind the kind smile he put on▬it made crinkles line on the outer side of mono-lidded eyes. He was a young, middle-aged man, but he sometimes looked much older. "Oh," he chuckled, shaking his head, "I just wish I could do more."

    Peter shrugged. "Well," he slipped his hands into his jean pockets, "May's always told me: 'If you help someone▬'"

    "▬'You help everyone,'" finished Mr. Li and Peter chuckled with a nod. Together, they glanced over to where his aunt listened to whatever a young, college volunteer was talking about underneath a bright, yellow banner: THANK YOU. "Ah, well▬maybe we should send May to City Hall to have a word with the mayor."

    Peter's chuckle was a little more forced at that, thinking of Mayor Osborn with this awkward feeling. He didn't often mention it that he knew the Mayor rather personally through his son, Harry▬they were best friends throughout high school and college (all of Peter's life, really). And while Harry's father wasn't the most popular man in the city, Peter also had this begrudging connection to the man that told them not to race up the penthouse stairs yet didn't say a word when they did anyway.

    Some part of him was glad when he felt the buzz of a phone call. He grasped it out of his back pocket a little too quickly, checking who it was▬as soon as he saw Yuri's name flash across his screen, he quickly turned it away from Martin Li's eyes. His heart pounded with a fresh thrill to think what might be awaiting him outside those doors▬an youthful eagerness for adventure that deep down, has never left him even after years of being Spider-Man.

    "Oh▬uh▬" he shuffled back away from Mr. Li, "▬I gotta run. Um, thanks again for the party and everything. It really means a lot."

    He missed her phone call, but Peter didn't waste a moment to slip back through the main hall and then outside into the evening. Captain Yuriko Watanabe▬more affectionately Yuri▬of the Chinatown Police had left him a voice message, which told him he had somewhere he needed to be. Or rather Spider-Man needed to be. For at least two years now, she has been Spider-Man's eyes and ears in the police department▬ever since a rather fun encounter they had in their mutual determination to put an end to Fisk's organised crime reign.

    Peter hoped it was going to be some break-in or car chase, or maybe even another Fisk construction site and not another police tower he had to unscramble to put back online.

    He ducked subtly behind the building and when no one was looking, leapt upwards onto the roof where he had hid his bag and suit. As he grabbed the new (and improved) design by Doctor Otto Octavius himself, he listened to Yuri's voicemail pressed in between his ear and shoulder.

    "Hey," she had said. "Silent alarm at the auction house holding Fisk's estate sale just tripped. Could you check it out? Quietly? I don't want to make a scene if it's nothing."

    Fisk's estate sale? That was an interesting one. Considering only just this morning Peter took Fisk down and gave him a one-way ticket to the Raft, a silent alarm triggering at his estate sale couldn't be some random coincidence. Peter knew Fisk laundered money at his auction houses▬he had a whole stolen art black market frenzy that Peter has gotten caught up in more than enough times. He wouldn't be surprised if some of Fisk's competitors took this chance to reclaim some prizes for their own desperate grab at gang power.

    As soon as he was in his suit, Peter leapt off the back of the building and swung head first into the Chinatown streets. He liked this new suit▬it was classical, flexible and very easy to breathe in. It was very much like his old ones, all except the large, white spider-emblem across his chest that stood out in the night of New York's streets. A beacon of hope, he supposed (along with some pretty cool gadgets, as always).

    Yuri sent him a message with a location, and the suit's GPS latched onto it straight away. Spider-Man headed directly for one of Fisk's estate sales in the Upper West Side. All around him, New York had started to turn into a light show of windows and street lamps▬a city of stars in the growing evening.

    As he began to cut through Lower Manhattan, he passed at a high arch a place that shook him with sudden memory. He stared at it momentarily, remembering a time where he took a girl up to the top of the building after rescuing her from some thugs. Peter Parker frowned to himself and moved on, having not thought of Nina Hart in a record time of one week▬he broke it, as he always did in the end.

    He was reaching the outskirts of Greenwich when his Aunt May called. She automatically connected into his suit as if he had just picked up his phone on the run. "Peter," she said as soon as he answered, "I lost track of you at the party."

    (Bless his aunt for noticing he had disappeared off somewhere, as she always did). Peter took a sharp turn into an alleyway and up towards the top of the building. "Yeah!" he replied, trying very hard not to sound like he was swinging through the air. Quickly, he thought of a lie: "I ... had to get to the lab. Sorry."

    He heard her chuckle on the other end. "Don't apologise," she said to him warmly. "I just wanted to tell you how much what you said meant to me. I always wondered if I'm doing right by you."

    Peter's chest swelled. He smiled behind his mask. "Well, stop wondering," he told her. He took off at a running start onto the next building, trying to get to the Upper West Side as quick as he could. "After losing my parents, and Uncle Ben ..." that weight returned and his words trailed off. He kept saying to himself that years after, the wound had very much healed. But Peter Parker never stopped thinking of that night. He carried his Uncle Ben and his parents with him, but some days, he missed them as if they had left just yesterday. "There are so many times I would've fallen apart if not for you."

    "Well, that works both ways, Peter. I just wanted to make sure you knew that."

    Peter stopped halfway across the next building. He skidded to a stop right at the edge, almost not sure whether he heard her right. He hitched a breath, at lost for words▬he didn't know whether to ask what she had meant, or whether to thank her for telling him. Either way, it meant a lot. "May, I ..." he managed in the end. He swallowed hard. "I don't know what to say..."

    She sounded as if she was going to say something else, but then back tracked, "Oh▬I think Mr. Li needs my help. I should go." He heard her smile. "See you soon, dear. I love you."

    Peter smiled. "Love you, too."

    She hung up and Peter took another deep breath. He was sure he would think over what his Aunt May said again later, but right now, he had to focus. He sighed it out and shook his shoulders, then, Spider-Man leapt off the building with a loud cheer down towards the citizens of New York.

    It didn't take him too much longer to reach the estate. He sped through the remainder of the way▬zipping through narrow street alleyways and taking shortcuts through the subways until he came across a rather normal building on this side of New York. But his GPS had narrowed in, and while it looked like any other complex, Peter knew he had arrived. The closer he got, he started to see refurbished windows and a velvet entrance. Just inside the porch, was a sign that showcased the sale in bold, purple lettering.

    Spider-Man ignored the front door and climbed his way up to the very top. Yuri wanted to do this quietly, which meant, he had to sneak his way in. He quickly found the entrance to an air vent and slipped his way in through there.

    He crawled his way closer to the centre of the building▬almost immediately, he heard a scream. Peter froze for a moment, the lenses of his suit widening with his eyes. He crawled further along until he could gaze down through the slits of an air vent. Down below, he could see a slender glass display of old Japanese artefacts▬Peter narrowed his eyes when he came across the Samurai sword that had nearly cut him open in two, on display for anybody to pass on by. But that was the least of his worries. The scream had come from the lady that dropped to the floor right below him. Her knees knocked the polished tiles at the mercy of three men in dark, tailored suits. Spider-Man could not see their faces, for they were covered in these painted masks he has never seen before. Scary, dark masks in black and white▬each frozen in a constant expression of anger, fear, horror ... perhaps everything all at once.

    The man in the centre stepped towards the woman, raising the long barrel of a gun. In a low, deep and gravelly voice, he said: "I am losing patience. Where is the file?" at each word, he stepped so close that the edge of his gun hovered only inches from the woman's forehead.

    She gasped and cowered, doing her best to scramble backwards on the tiles. "There▬There's someone else here!" she cried. "They must have taken it!"

    Just by those masks, Spider-Man could tell these men were within a group▬perhaps a new underground mob of organised crime; one he's never heard of before.

    "There's no one here but us," said the man, pushing his gun forward in a threatening gesture. Then he reached down and pulled the woman onto her feet. She shrieked as she stumbled forward. "We will find the file. Or you will die."

    Spider-Man watched them force the woman onwards in search of this strange file▬he knew he had to do something. If he alerted them, they were sure to kill her. He had to do this carefully. He waited a second before following through the vents above. He followed their footsteps▬the sound reaching his ears even from where he hid. He quickly called Yuri who answered almost straight away:

    "Yuri," he whispered, "the silent alarm was legit. Masked gunmen and a single hostage. It looks like a heist-in-progress."

    He titled his head, concentrating▬he took a right, very carefully picking up the pace when he heard the woman cry out.

    "Copy that," said Yuri in his ear. "I'm sending units your way. I need you to keep the situation from getting worse in the meantime."

    He cracked a swift grin. "Can do."

    This was going to be easy, nonetheless. Masked gun-men? Just an average day in New York for Spider-Man! He should be able to get this done and sneak in a bagel before the next break-in.

    He followed the vents along▬wrapping around so he could try and conquer this group from the behind first. Peter found an opening into one of the back exhibit rooms. He pushed it open and dropped down▬light and delicate▬onto the studio light grids. He crawled along them. While this may be just any night in the city, there was something about these masks that sure did give him chills. 

    He webbed the first gunman▬the only one in this room▬up to the light grid before he could even utter a word. He dangled down, muffled and struggling, in a tight (and very cozy) cocoon. 

    Spider-Man wondered about this file they were searching for as he crept into another vent. Now that Fisk was finally in the Raft, he supposed there were a lot of things the newbies in crime wanted their hands on. Payroll, construction site blueprints, lodgings ... But what he was more concerned about, was this other person Rosemann had spoke of. There was someone else in this auction house▬someone else that was in danger with these masked gunmen. Spider-Man had to find them, too, before they were found, too. And if they had their hands on this file ...

    He had to make his way through these men first. They had Rosemann at the mercy of their trigger. Then, he'll find this stranger. 

    Peter dropped down into the next room. Crouched, he shuffled across the tiles▬he spotted a shadow in the archway. He stood up and passed two cased Samurai helmets, closing in carefully on the man in front of him. As soon as he was close enough, he kicked his knees out from underneath him. Spider-Man webbed his mouth and caught him before he hit the ground. "Shhh..." he coaxed the man. "It's your bedtime, mister▬"

    His webs spread out across his chest, almost like a snug little blanket. 

    (Fisk was right, Spider-Man was like an insolent child, that hasn't changed at all (but it really was apart of the entire charm)). 

    He continued like this. Travelling room by room through the vents and taking out any gunman he found. Slowly making his way towards where they held Rosemann hostage. Even from within the roof, Peter could hear their distant conversation. 

    "My patience wears thin," the gunman was saying below in a room to his right.

    "Someone else is here, I swear! She must have the file!"

    A mystery woman? There was one that came to mind first, and Peter Parker really wished she wasn't involved in something like this again. 

    Peter froze, hunching up at the sudden sound of gunfire. His breath hitched and he glanced backwards, his heart pounding. He stayed there and listened for anything▬and slumped with relief when he heard Rosemann scream afterwards, pleading. 

    "If they're here," growled the man, "where are they?!"

    "I don't know! I don't know▬I just don't know▬!"

    She was still alive. But Peter needed to go faster. Next time, this man might not miss his mark. 

    The next room Spider-Man found himself in seemed like a basement storage. He glanced down from the roof, seeing floor-to-ceiling shelves and unpacked boxes. Two of these guys where here, and they chatted to each other in monotone voices. Peter glanced around▬he had to find someway to separate them. He crawled across the roof, praying that neither of them had the thought to look up.

    He lowered one arm down. Squinting his eyes, he aimed for the cardboard box hidden away in the aisle between two shelves. His webs struck it, and it was enough to cause a slight thud. The two men glanced around. One called out into the silence that followed▬Mandarin, he spoke. With another glance, one of the men gently ushered his friend to check it out. As soon as he disappeared around the shelves, Peter flung out his arm▬his web latched onto the first man's leg and tugged him upwards. In seconds, he was struggling in a prison of Spider-Man's webs.

    Peter somersaulted down onto the ground and caught the final man off-guard. He flung himself towards him and knocked the man out with a swift punch across his jaw. 

    He hovered over him for a moment, frowning at that mask around his face. Peter considered reaching down and taking it off▬but as he crouched down, something caught his eye. 

    He frowned, "What the...?"

    He stood back up and walked towards it. Peter thought he was going crazy▬that he had imagined it, but as he got closer, he realised he wasn't. He stopped to stare at it, right at his feet, and couldn't believe the sight. Regrettably, Peter Parker seemed to hold his breath▬almost scared that if he blinked, it would disappear.

    But it didn't. He crouched down to pick it up. He turned it around in his fingers: a bright red pen with his mask likeness scattered across its side. He clicked it absent-mindedly, a breath of memory hitting him in a very painful place▬right in his chest. 

    There was only one person he could think of that had a pen like this▬that bought it and laughed at the look on his face when he saw her sit it next to that damned Spider-Plush she had as well▬

    "Don't move."

    Spider-Man closed his eyes. He sighed and held his hands up. Slowly, he turned to face the masked gunman. "Buddy, if I had a nickel for every 'don't move'▬"

    Out of nowhere, grasped hands swung the butt of a wrench across the gunman's head. He crumpled to the stranger's feet and the lenses of Peter's mask widened.

    She let out a small breath, meeting his gaze with that same surprise. Six months▬six months, and she has barely changed. At first, he thought she was just some figment of his imagination. A ghost of his past with her dark blonde hair, soft gaze and gentle, shy smile. She gave him that same look she did all those years ago where she stared at him, almost passed out, on the fire escape of her apartment▬with a pen as a weapon and a wide curious stare; one that was hesitant, and yet filled with an eager adventure that was enough to pull him inside and help. 

    Peter has not seen her, nor heard from her▬she may as well have disappeared for the last six months ... and yet, here she stood right in front of him: Nina Hart. 

    Nina shuffled on her feet, at loss for words▬he was no better. There was a long moment where they both just stared at each other. Almost as though Nina couldn't believe he was really here, either. 

    She hugged the wrench close to her sweet-neckline jumper as if she hadn't just clobbered it over the head of a criminal. Her eyes did a slow glance▬up and down ... and then Nina Hart pursed her lips and mustered a little, hesitant smile. "Is that a new suit?"

    Peter frowned, wondering what she meant. Then he realised and glanced down, too, and the white emblem on his chest. "Oh! Uh▬yeah, yeah. It's new ... yeah."

    Nina nodded. They still hadn't moved at all. "It's ... it's nice▬I like it."

    When she awkwardly took a step closer, it was like a surge of momentum sparked inside Peter and he rushed towards her: "W▬what are you doing here?"

    "I▬" Nina went for an explanation, but then she caught herself. The sheepish glance she set him out of the corner of her eye told him everything he needed to know. "It's ... it's a bit of a long story."

    Spider-Man glanced around briefly, making sure they were alone before telling her: "You shouldn't be here. This is a break-in▬have you seen those masked guys? This is dangerous."

    "Yeah, I've seen them," Nina rolled her eyes. "Why do you think I was hiding in here? And they weren't here at first. I wasn't expecting an armed robbery, Pete."

    "What were you doing?" he didn't mean to sound so demanding, but after not seeing her for six months, some part of him couldn't help but be annoyed.

    She made a face, reluctant to tell him. "It's ... it's a long story."

    "I have time." He didn't, but Peter Parker wasn't going to just let this go without an explanation▬let her go. 

    Nina sighed, but she relented. At that, she delved into a brief explanation of what happened▬from arriving at the auction house, to finding Fisk's statue, the file, and then to the mask gunmen arriving. Once she finished, she muttered: "I ... I was on my way to the exit but then ... then I saw you."

    Peter was shocked to silence for a second. Some things haven't changed▬at all. Except this time, he wasn't around▬if something had happened, he wouldn't have been there to step in. It almost made him angry, wondering why she was still throwing herself into these situations after all the reasons she gave him as a reason to leave. "Nina▬" he lifted his hands briefly in a moment of frustration, "▬you▬you are lucky to be alive!" his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. 

    "I▬" she scowled at him for that, "▬that's over exaggerating, I think..."

    "No, it's not."

    Nina made her way over to a group of storage boxes she must have been hiding behind. She set down the wrench she had found and picked up her notepad and a file▬the file the men were looking for. "Just▬listen to me, okay? Whoever these mask guys are, they're after this file. Not just that, but I heard people at OSCORP whisper about this▬not wanting it to fall in the hands of the police. Whatever this 'Devil's Breath' is▬" she tapped the post-it note on the file, "▬it's something serious."

    "And what were you gonna do with it once you got out of here?"

    She frowned at him, struck by his tone. She quickly matched it. "Well, at least I got it. If it weren't for me, these mask guys would have it and we'd be having a different conversation."

    Peter set his jaw. Realising he wasn't going to win this small argument, he ran a hand along the side of his mask and said. "Right▬all right. Look, we need to get you out of here▬"

    "No," Nina argued. He held his hands out to her, taking a deep breath to resist his urge to snap at her. She noticed her pen in his hand. She flushed, but chose not to say anything about it. "You need to help Rosemann. I'll stay here and hide. Once these mask guys are out, I'll make it to the exit."

    "Once these mask guys are out," Peter corrected her, "the police will be here. And I don't think Rosemann's gonna let you get out of here without being arrested. You hide back there▬" he pointed to the staircase door, "▬I'll deal with the bad guys, and then I'll come back for you."

    She didn't look as though she liked the idea, but she didn't say anything about it. "All right, sounds like a plan."

    He passed her back her pen. "Here."

    Nina glanced at it. She picked it out of his fingers, a little embarrassed. "Right," she mumbled. "Thanks."

    She hesitated, then she turned on her feet and started to make her way to the door. But then a last minute thought struck her and she spun around to say: "Um ... it's ..." she tapped her pen against her cheek. "It's good to see you, Pete..."

    Despite his short tone, Peter's chest lifted at her words. He shuffled forward and blurted out quickly: "Y▬yeah, you too." Her brows lifted, and the small smile returned, relieved. "Just ... you know ... not exactly how I pictured us meeting again."

    Nina managed a soft chuckle. She opened the door and told him: "Isn't this how we always meet?" she gave him one final smile before slipping out into the hallway. 

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

    a/n: lol super long chapter sorry. sorry if its boring, too, but there were a few things I just needed to like develop/introduce like Peter and may and stuff like that. 

    sorry, I feel like its super bad its just, games are sorta hard to write like hahaha.

   anyway, Peter and Nina have reunited and you know, just as cute as they always are in every universe. these two are so sweet though, like *squeals*

     (I hate this chapter I'm so sorry you had to read like 9500 words of this shit).