13. HERO
The weekend came and Peter was freaking out. He and Ned sat side by side on his bed. They tossed a foam ball to hit Peter's closet door so it would ricochet to the other person's hands. Peter called Ned over to hang out and then go out and find something unhealthy to eat. Peter was craving churros at the moment.
But his hunger for churros was unimportant compared to the massive weight on his chest. He sat with his shoulders slumped.
Ned saw that Peter wasn't feeling the ball toss and he let the ball roll off of him. Ned cleared his throat. "So... what was it like?"
Peter turned toward Ned, lifting his leg to rest on the bed and let the other one dangle off to the side. He seemed eager to answer. "It was better than my first. But it's a really weird, indescribable feeling, man."
"Huh..." Ned rubbed his chin. "So kissing is overhyped?"
"No, no, no!" Peter gasped. "It's totally worth it. Although it takes some getting used to. It's really awkward the first time, trust me on that. And... I think I tasted barbecue sauce when MJ and I kissed." He didn't sound too sure.
Ned cocked his head to the side in disgust as his eyes narrowed. "That's... disgusting."
Peter shook his head, his voice slightly going higher. "It was surprisingly pleasant and kinda tasty. And besides, you put hot sauce on everything like an animal!"
"You go big or you go home!"
"You don't need to go big every time you eat something!" Peter scoffed.
"Wait, if she tasted like hot sauce, does that mean that you'd feel the burn from the spiciness?"
Peter did a double take. He opened his mouth to refute and say that you wouldn't be he wasn't entirely sure, so he just stuttered, "No! I-maybe... probably. I guess. I don't want to find out, Ned."
Ned blissfully stared off into the distance, lost in thought. "I'm going to kiss a girl with hot sauce and it's gonna be hot."
"Why don't you talk to that cute girl, Dulce?"
"Hey now," Ned warned with a slight chuckle, "careful who you go calling cute. Your girlfriend might get jealous. And I dunno... Dulce is way out of my league. I think Betty likes me, but she has a boyfriend and that's problematic."
"Ooh," Peter cringed. "That is problematic. But MJ made it explicitly clear that we are not dating. No labels. No boyfriend, girlfriend. And don't put yourself down, Ned! Dulce would be lucky to have you."
"She's kinda scary though. Lacross makes her intimidating. She's big and tough... I think she threw Flash before."
"Anyone can throw Flash." Ned nodded in agreement. Peter gave him a smile. "But she always talks to you in class. I think she likes you."
"Haha. Funny." Ned fiddled with the foam ball, squeezing it with his thumbs, clearly uncertain of himself. A moment passed before he spoke again. "I hope she tastes like hot sauce."
"That's gross."
"You're gross for kissing a girl that tastes like barbecue sauce!"
"We both had ribs, man!"
"God, now I'm hungry!"
"Me too!"
The two of them lurched from the bed and made their way out of Peter's room. As they left, Peter snagged some loose change from his desk and his brand new backpack with his Spider-Man suit. They said goodbye to his aunt while she worked on grading. The plan was that they would go out together and get something to eat while Peter did some patrols as Spider-Man in hopes of finding some answers for the terrorist attacks... somehow.
Ned and Peter went downstairs and began their walk around town. Finally, they flagged down a vendor who sold churros and they each got two before they sat on a bench to chill. "So," Ned said after two bites, "that new hero guy, Paradox, have you met him? I've seen him on the news. He worked with Daredevil to take down a small scale drug cartel."
Peter blinked and nearly choked on his churro. "He did?! I've never taken down a drug cartel. Am I supposed to take down a drug cartel?" he wondered out loud and began to panic. "Would Mr. Stark get mad at me for taking down a cartel?" His eyes enlarged and he shifted in excitement. "Or wouldn't he?"
"Dude, that would be dope."
"So cool." Peter sighed. Then, he stuffed the churro down his throat. He coughed.
"But," Ned brought their dreams back to reality and chewed off more of his churros, "this Paradox guy? He seems pretty chill on the news."
"Eh..." Peter shook his own hand in the air to gesture a so-so response. "He kinda... rubs me the wrong way. I don't know why. He's a bit creepy, I guess. When we talked, he wanted to be my friend."
"Ew, gross pedos say that."
"I know." Peter gravely nodded. "But the only thing I know about him is that he recently got his powers somehow, and I don't even understand how they work. I think he can walk through shadows, reshape his entire body for some reason and make force fields. That's it."
Cinnamon crumbs speckled the corners of Ned's mouth as he chewed and thought. After he swallowed, he said, "That's kinda badass."
"Yeah, how come I can't do more things like shoot giant spiders?"
"That would be horrifying, Peter, you're scared of spiders."
"Shut up." Peter glanced away, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Anyways, I-"
Both Peter's and Ned's bodies shook from a massive explosion. Their ears popped once the sound pierced the air like an angry screech. Ned's churro fell out of his mouth and Peter's hand shook so hard he dropped his treat.
Another one was happening... not again.
Peter faced his friend, who sat petrified with his milky eyes wide. Ned couldn't even move. Peter gripped his shoulders and shouted, his voice trying to raise over the screams and yells from the terrified pedestrians scrambling around them. "Ned! Ned! You have to go back to my house!"
Ned seemed to be staring at nothing. He might have been in another world if Peter hadn't shaken him from his daydream. Ned blinked and clamped his gaping mouth shut.
Seeing that Peter had gained his attention, he pointed back where they came from. "I need you to be my guy in the chair! Go now!"
"I-I-" Ned scooted away from Peter until he found his footing. He rose, his legs slightly shaking from beneath him. "You can stop this, right Peter? Right?"
"I will, I promise." Peter gripped the straps of his backpack, trying to think of a place he could change into his suit without getting discovered. he didn't have a lot of time. He begged, "Go, Ned, please."
Ned backed up a few steps and gave his friend a salute before he spun around on his heels and made a break back toward the Parker residence. Peter went the opposite way and rushed by people until he found an alleyway. He hid behind a dumpster and unzipped his bag. Peter changed as fast as he possibly could and decided that- as much as he didn't like it- to toss his backpack in the dumpster so then someone wouldn't steal it like last time.
Spider-Man went back to the open street so he could have enough room to zip around on his webs toward the explosion. Dark gray smoke rose in the air, the fiery mushroom poured out from the smoke like a monster creeping through the shadows.
He went straight for the darkness.
"Karen!" he cried. "Do you know anything?"
"The Queens Pride House was hit," she said gravely, "it's bigger this time, Peter. Much, much bigger. Multiple stores around the Pride House have been caught in the explosion."
Spider-Man cursed. Karen highlighted the shortest path to the Pride House on his monitor and Spider-Man made all haste to get there. Once he arrived, fortunately, he could hear Ned's voice in his suit, just like Karen's. "Yo, this thing on? Is it working? Hello? Peter?" wondered Ned.
Spider-Man managed a smile. "Ned! The link worked!" The pair had spent some time trying to link Ned with Spider-Man's suit so that he could work as a second pair of eyes from his chair. "What's happening, man?"
"Hang on," Ned strained. Spider-Man could hear vigorous typing on the computer that Ned was using before Ned finally answered, "I hacked into the security cameras around the area. People are scared. They are running... oh, my god. That's disgusting."
"What?! What is disgusting?!"
"I think I'm gonna-" Ned cut himself off and Spider-Man could distinctly hear him hurl up his lunch.
Spider-Man had no idea what to expect. Once he arrived in front of the Center on top of a building from across the street, all he could see was carnage. He could understand why Ned threw up. Bodies. Pieces of bodies. Oceans of blood. Glass shards. Clunks of buildings. Burned flesh. The stench alone made Spider-Man gag.
"Oh my god," gasped Spider-Man, his hand hovering over his mouth.
"Peter!" Karen's voice interrupted his train of thought. "You have to focus. There's still people alive inside. The place is on fire and they are suffocating, you have to get them out now."
A goal. A clear goal, something to focus on so that Spider-Man wouldn't get sick right then and there. He swallowed hard and nodded his head. "Yeah, okay, let's do this."
He jumped and brought his arms out forward so he could latch himself on the traffic signal pole that hung over the street. Spider-Man caught the pole and the momentum swung him twice. He launched from the traffic signal pole much like a gymnast would do with the uneven bars before he landed on his feet.
Spider-Man ran toward the front, careful not to run into anyone or over anyone. He ran inside and instantly began to cough, the fumes were too strong. It was unbearably hot. Karen warned him to stay low and she directed a path towards two victims. Spider-Man ducked under the sinking ceiling and avoided tripping over debris. Finally, he found the two victims and assessed the situation.
"Peter?" called Ned urgently. "Peter, what's happening? I don't have any footage inside- not that I want to see any more of all of this."
Spider-Man replied, "I'm trying to find the survivors."
Two men were lying face down on the ground. He scrambled to them, going on his knees. Spider-Man rolled one man over who clutched his chest. His palms were painted red with blood. His eyes were small and distant, not focusing on Spider-Man exactly, but the world around them. The man's throat was dry as he spoke, "Take him."
"What?" gasped Spider-Man. He shook his head. "No, I can take you both. I'm strong enough." Spider-Man turned over the other man. The other man was completely unconscious due to a blow to his head. He too was bleeding profusely.
Spider-Man knew he could lift them both. He has stopped a car, hasn't he? Picking up and moving people should be less taxing.
"No," the first man coughed. Thick blood splurged from his mouth and he wheezed. "I won't... I won't make it."
Spider-Man's throat went dry. "Don't say that. You'll be fine..." His voice got trapped in his throat as he realized that he was wrong. Spider-Man was utterly wrong. The life, the light from that man's eyes were fading. His breathing slowed yet the blood kept spilling out from his chest. Spider-Man had a dozen theories as to how he got hurt but he couldn't ask if any of them were right. His words were stolen from him.
Yet he had to move.
Spider-Man nodded. This made the dying man tug a final smile as Spider-Man lifted the unconscious one from the ground. He heaved the insensible man into his arms and carried him out of the room. The ceiling kept groaning louder and sank lower as the buildings about to collapse in on itself. The heat of the fire was quickly catching up to Spider-Man and had already surrounded the dying man after he left.
Spider-Man emerged from the smoke and haze with the unconscious man in his arms as the fire erupted from behind. It knocked Spider-Man off balance and he stepping faltered but he crashed to the ground, making sure to use his own body to soften the impact instead of injuring the unconscious man any further.
Ned yelled, "Peter!" He cried with relief flushing over him, "I see you! I see you! Are you okay? Is that guy okay? He doesn't look okay. I hope he's okay. Oh my god, you're okay."
Spider-Man placed the man on his back and leaned over him, inspecting his face. The side of his head still bled and the only thing that he could think of that could stop any more blood loss was to use webbing. He carefully maneuvered a web shot and wove it onto the side of his head. Spider-Man swallowed. "Karen, run a facial recognition scan."
"Peter, I don't understand-"
"Run the damn scan, Karen!" he raised his voice, sudden rage fueling him.
Karen noticed. She hesitated at his sudden outburst but she calmly responded with, "Okay, Peter." Files appeared on Spider-Man's monitor and he could see data all about this man. "His name is Zachary Lewis. He is thirty-two years old, married to a Charlie Callahan for four years. They have an adopted son of five years."
That's when Spider-Man's heart truly broke. Zachary Lewis was in his arms right at that moment and his husband, he recognized Zachary Lewis's husband... Oh god. He had left Charlie Callahan in the Queens Pride House to die.
"It's Paradox!" screamed a woman.
Spider-Man snapped his head up at the mention of the name. He saw the dark clothed hero assist people out of harm's way using his powers to use the shadows as transports. After the crowd was cleared, he lifted his hands to form a force field over the building to contain the fire and smoke. Once the force field was filled, he drew the nasty remnants into a shadow as if it was a black hole and it disappeared.
Paradox lowered himself to one knee in exhaustion. He kept his head low and rubbed his forehead, his long blonde hair falling in front of his masked face.
Then, the cheering started. People gathered around at a safe distance and began to clap. They whooped Paradox's name and celebrated the late hero for a job well done.
Paradox stood once more and waved at the crowd.
Spider-Man's chest heaved. He rushed as wave toward Paradox with his fists clenched. He went through the personal bubble Paradox had and jabbed at Paradox. "Where were you?!" Spider-Man managed to keep his voice low so no one could hear the rage. "You were late and people died!"
"Where was I?" scoffed Paradox. He rolled his eyes as if the whole matter was beneath him. "Where the hell were you, kid? There were dozens of people out here hurt and needed help, and you run inside a burning building as if you can stop the heat." Paradox stepped away from Spider-Man and placed his hands on his hips. "I actually thought you were a smart kid, Spider. I actually thought that you're the hero that people needed, yet you weren't there when it really mattered."
Spider-Man hissed, "I was here!" He panted, feeling out of breath and in disbelief. "I went in because there were still people inside who needed help! They were going to die and-"
Paradox glanced over Peter's shoulder at the unconscious man on the ground. The hero narrowed his eyes. "I only see one."
Spider-Man couldn't speak. One. He was only able to save one person and that person wasn't even conscious. His husband was killed. His child was without a father. Spider-Man tore a family apart.
Paradox towered over Spider-Man. Even though half of his face was covered, his eyes told a convincing story of his menace. "You're no hero," Paradox said. "Stop pretending to be one."
The crowd condensed. More people came. Flashes of cameras bothered Spider-Man's senses. He heard snippets of voices: "When did Spider-Man get here?" "Paradox saved my life!" "Did Spider-Man even do anything?" "How many people did Paradox save from the explosion?" "Spider-Man didn't do shit! Hey, fuck you!"
"Aw man," Ned gasped, "I think you need to go."
More people joined the chorus of booing and ridiculing Spider-Man. He felt his face get hot and he glimpsed at Paradox, trying to read his expression. Stoic. Spider-Man turned to look at the one man he saved, only to hear the ringing of the paramedic sirens and police sirens. Spider-Man had to hope that Zachary Lewis would be okay.
Before the crowd could get too rowdy and pelt things at him while Paradox took all the glory, Spider-Man propelled himself on top of a building using his web-slingers and disappeared.
.
.
.
The sickness never went away.
He couldn't talk to Ned after he returned home. Ned tried his hardest to reassure him that the situation wasn't that bad. It was only a bad day and there will be plenty of good days. He eventually took the hint that he wasn't going to get through to Peter. Ned wished him good fortune, his condolences and said goodbye. Peter was sad to watch him go, but sometimes there isn't anything you could do for someone.
Peter's aunt baked him cookies. They were warm and the chocolate chips were the perfect mix of sweet and melted. They were amazing, but it didn't help Peter feel that way. He said his thanks and sulked in his room. May knew by now what Peter was like when he was grieving. She knew that he needed time to himself before she could comfort him.
The entire day was agonizingly slow. Peter stared at his ceiling on top of his bed with his arms folded behind his head. The minutes ticked by like hours. Peter didn't understand why, but he tried so hard to fight off the tears. People seemed to hate him. He hated himself.
At night, it was even worse. Nightmares crowded his mind and he was left with a nasty headache. Peter saw the carnage and burned bodies of people who didn't make it, the severed limbs of others, the ghostly faces of Zachary Lewis but nothing compared to being Charlie Callahan's lifeless eyes staring up at him. "Take him," he had said, "No... I won't make it."
Peter couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed a thick sweatshirt and sweatpants and put them on. He lifted the hood over his head and pulled the strings to make his face less visible. Peter climbed out of his window and searched through the night.
A few blocks later he was looking at the stars. Constellations and planets were all down to Earth, right in front of him. Peter stood in front of the Jones household.
He paced in front of their townhouse like an idiot. It was three in the morning and he definitely looked suspicious. Would Michelle even be awake at this hour? Obviously not. Yet he still wanted to see her.
It's been a long, shitty day, he realized. Peter sighed heavily. He stepped closer to the building with his head inclined up to find Michelle's window. Peter placed his hand on the surface and it was glued to the building. Peter climbed as though he was climbing a rock wall. One foot in front of the other, one hand higher than the other.
Peter lifted himself to the edge of Michelle's little balcony and heaved himself up. She had blinds cover the window and he knocked. Waited. Knocked again. Waited.
Michelle pushed aside the blinds and pulled open the window. She was half-asleep and half-awake. Her striped PJs were all wrinkled and ruffled. Her hair was wild with fuzzy lopsided curls. Michelle barely had her eyes open and she hunched over, but when she saw him, she stifled a gasp. "Y-You- Peter! What? How? Doing here?" She couldn't form a coherent sentence.
Michelle allowed him to come inside and Peter stepped out from her little balcony (which was meant for potted plants) and into her comfortable, dimly lit room. Peter suddenly felt a hell of a lot more relieved in here. He went to her bed and planted face down onto the soft blankets.
"Peter!" she whisper-hissed. Michelle plopped next to him, making his body bounce from the distribution of weight. "How the hell did you get up here? If my parents find you in here, they will kill you before they kill me and that is a promise, Parker. So start giving me some answers!"
Peter rolled over to look up at her. Her face glowed from the streaking moonlight and the faint orange light from her lamp. Michelle rubbed her tired eyes.
He sighed and tried to think of a good answer. "I have a secret," he said.
Michelle lifted a brow. She was interested. "Do tell."
Peter scratched his cheek, wondering if it was a good idea. "And... the secret is... I'm learning how to do parkour."
"Oh wow," Michelle titled her head to the side. "That's kinda badass and that explains the abs." She gestured to his stomach. "Can you teach me sometime? That would be useful to evade the police."
"Why would you evade the police?"
"Peter, why wouldn't I?"
"...touche."
She sighed, "Why are you here, though? It's three in the morning and I just finished binge watching a tv show, so I am tired as hell." Her eyes drooped and her head kept rocking as if it was too much weight for her to handle.
It was cute.
Peter couldn't help it. She was the one good thing that happened all day after the incident. Just Michelle sleepily trying to stay awake to talk to him made him crack the faintest smile. He was glad he snuck over.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I just had a really, really rough day. Nothing helped. I just thought..."
Michelle noticed that he wasn't going to finish his thought. She probed him, "You thought...?"
"I thought that you- that I- we-" Peter choked on his words and he felt his eyes cloud up. Michelle blurred through his tears and he sputtered. Michelle, perky and awake now, stiffened.
Peter tried to hide his face by lifting the blankets to block himself from her gaze. Michelle swallowed. She laid next to Peter and adjusted the blankets so that it covered them. She rolled over on her side to face him and pulled down the blankets that hid his face. Michelle opened her arms and Peter immediately went into her embrace. He squeezed her tight as he sobbed, feeling worthless and useless yet somehow needed as she absentmindedly worked her fingers through his curls. Michelle shut her eyes. Her movements were slow and tender, and Peter didn't even care that she was messing up the gel he had put in it at the start of the day, it just felt good that someone was here, holding him like this.
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A/N: So the length of the chapters are doubling now? Nice.
Also, this is the first time that Peter had ever really witnessed a death on his watch so I think that is pretty traumatizing for him. He just wanted to save people, you know? He can't even do that right. :(
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