A lot had happened and it didn't take much to put him to sleep once he was inside again. He woke up in a fog, hardly able to open his eyes despite the pain thriving through his body.

He picked up his phone to look at the time and couldn't make sense of the numbers but a series of emails caught his attention. He swiped on his notifications and read the summary car four times before it clicked. "You have 17 new subscribers." "Congratulations, you've reached twenty subscribers." 

He stared, going through his email, watching as three more came in to bring his count up to 30.  Peter sat up and opened up OnlyFans, going through his notifications and blinking at his notifications. He knew he had been very lucky to have his original ten subscribers. They came along within the two weeks and he'd stood fairly stagnant since save for the couple that had dropped their subscription and came back later.

He rubbed his face and moved, gasping when the skin around his wound pulled and immediately began to ache. He rolled to his side to read through his four new comments and swapped over to his email again, glancing through the junk and leaving Jameson on read for later. He checked his junk mail for any client injuries and noticed a strange influx in notification emails for this social platforms. He raised a brow and went over to his professional account.He had to look twice when he noticed the few hundred notifications he had. He contemplated looking at his notifications tab but he was starting to get a bad feeling.  He went back to his emails and was thrown back into his junk mail. Before he started digging into all of this sudden attention he wanted to know what Jameson wanted in case it had nothing to do with what was going on with his accounts but something caught his attention.

He'd submitted a few photos to a few newspapers throughout the year when someone wanted something on Spider-Man, those he submitted to a few weeks out of the year occasionally offered him a complimentary online subscription. There was one smaller publisher he had worked with in the past that had an all-caps breaking notice within its latest story notice. 

BREAKING NEWS: Has Spider-Man been found?

Normally he wouldn't bat an eye at this kind of headline, but that was because he'd only ever seen it online or from gossip magazines. As much as he hated to admit that newspapers were good for anything, he'd admit they were more trustworthy than any other form of local media you could easily access. Especially when it was coming from a small publisher like that, a family-owned business that was limping along.

He opened the email and followed the link to the full story and his heart immediately dropped as the events of the night before resurfaced as he stared at a picture of himself standing sideways on his apartment building, Wade mid-sentence with his hands raised like he was trying to tame a wild animal. 

"Is Peter Parker, well-known vigilante photographer in newscast and journalism Spider-Man?"

A cold stone formed in his chest as he jumped through the article. Surprisingly the piece didn't accuse anything, something he wasn't used to given Jameson's propaganda against him, but there were several speculations and allegations. 

"Peter Parker, a photographer known for his action shots of the vigilante, Spider-Man, and often featured in The Daily Bugle, was captured in a compromising position while in an argument that moved outside of his apartment. As seen in the photo above, Parker was caught defying gravity not unlike the hero he is generally associated with. There is speculation that this evidence may point to the artist being related to the vigilante Spider-Man or taking advantage of the media's need for content by taking his own shots as Spider-Man and submitting them under his civilian name." Peter read on as the article went into his background, reporting where he went to school, his dead parents, his father's employment. Sweat began to moisten the back of his neck as he read the reporter's connections between him, his father and other Oscorp dramas. Between Spider-Man's powers and the number of villains that had been produced by Oscorp, it wasn't far-fetched to see where Peter Parker and Spider-Man could be related. Thankfully Oscorp had yet to respond to questions submitted regarding the topic of his father's employment at the company.  "If any of these events are truly related it begs the question of how legal Parker's actions have been and whether he will be faced with legal actions from insurance companies relating to damages caused by Spider-Man and the media outlets he has worked with in the past." 

His hands were shaking and he couldn't read on. He quickly scrolled to up to the top of the article and stared at the photo credit.  The photographer must have had an automatic cloud upload which meant that his efforts to destroy the evidence was fruitless. He wondered if the reporter mentioned his violent actions in the article or not. He wanted to know but he also couldn't bring himself to read another word so he focused on the photo, frowning when he noticed the credited name. It didn't match the name he'd been given the night before. Allan something. He looked for the article byline and frowned. 

By E. C. A. Brock.

E. C. A.? He opened a new tab and searched the name and a social media and resume profile popped up quickly. Edward 'Eddie' Charles Allan Brock.  He blinked. The Globe journalist? Why was he writing for this little paper? Why the fuck was he digging into him? How long had he been investigating? Brock was known for being a pushy and thorough reporter but he liked to focus on genuine problems and criminals, so why was he looking into Spider-Man? 

He didn't know the guy personally but he'd met him before. They bumped into one another at a few events where Peter had been hired out or he decided to attend something with the intention of selling photos. 

"What the fuck," he muttered, pulling at his hair as he stared at Eddie's smiling profile photo, that cold stone that had settled in him quickly warming as it began to steam, quickly on its way to molton. 

He jumped when his phone began to vibrate, a phone call coming in. His anger quickly dissipated and he internally tucked his tail between his legs, terrified that Jameson was going to be calling him. He wasn't prepared to deal with the man, he had no idea what he'd think or say . . . thankfully it didn't matter because it was Wade. Though the man was next in line as far as people he didn't want to talk to went. Nevertheless, he answered the call. 

"Hello?" he answered quietly. 

"Peter!" Wade sounded breathless. "Did you see the article?"

He looked up toward his ceiling, unsure whether he was relieved to talk about this or not. "Unfortunately," he confirmed.

"I can explain," Wade rushed.

"You don't need to, there are a few ways that he could have gotten the photos. He probably had a wifi SD card. You can use your hotspot and it'll upload photos in real-time to the cloud."

Wade paused, his heavy breathing catching for a moment. "What?"

He rubbed his face. "I should have thought of it. Even I do that when I can but I wasn't thinking clearly last night. I'm sorry," he said softly. "For acting the way I did and . . . I just, I don't know I'm under a lot of stress and I freaked out." 

He listened to the phone for a second. Wade didn't say anything but he could hear him breathing heavily. "Are you okay?" He frowned.

"Oh, uh yeah. Sorry. Um, can I meet you?" Wade asked, "At your place?"

"Maybe? There might be people outside, I haven't checked yet. I just woke up. I don't really want to check," he admitted. 

"That's fine. I'll come to you. If there are people outside I'll find another way in or let you know and we can wait them out. Alright? Just hang tight for a minute, okay?" the man said. 

Peter's throat tightened. He wasn't sure when it happened, but he realized that Wade's voice was an anchor. He felt like somehow things were going to be okay as long as he got here soon. "Okay." he managed to squeak out, fighting tears that were beginning to burn his eyes.