Peter grinned ear-to-ear as he slipped on the mask. Welcome back, Peter. Karen greeted, a slight tone of happiness apparent. "Hey, Karen.", Peter returned, scaling a building excitedly. Man, he could feel the familiar adrenaline rush.

His father, after having him run a refresher course, had allowed him to go be Spider-Man again. Taking a breath, he shot out a thread and swung from the next building. The cool air felt so rejuvenating, he could do this forever.

Peter stopped and hid in an alleyway, watching and processing the scene. Armed mugging, but it was just one person. One small remark and a few web-shots later, the man was de-armed and tied up at the moment. The victim sighed a thanks and took off.

The teen smiled to himself, nodding in pride before swinging off.

The patrol itself was pretty standard, but really helped him get back into the swing of things. In the teen's first actual fight, the gang managed to give him a couple of bruises though; nothing he couldn't walk off. Most of the time, he was either swinging through the brisk air or watching the night sky. The stars seemed to shine a little brighter that night.

Sitting on the edge of a building, the teen quietly watched the people below him. "Spider-Man, Spider-Man, does whatever...", the teen hummed his made-up theme song. He leaned one hand on the concrete roof before stiffening up. Peter's heart pounded in his chest, Spidey Senses screaming at him.

His head hurt.

"Not again.", he muttered, slowly moving away from the edge. Shutting his eyes, the teen laid down, trying to control his breathing.

Concrete.

Dust.

Darkness.

He was trapped. He couldn't breathe.

"HELLO?! HELLO?!"

He was alone. Who could hear him?

"PLEASE! ANY- ANY- PLEASE! I'M DOWN HERE! I'M DOWN HERE! I'M STUCK! I'M STUCK! I CAN'T MOVE! I can't-", he screamed in between panicked breaths.

He was alone. No one was coming. The Vulture was going to win. The boy stared at his reflection, the mask half caught. Mr. Stark's...Dad's...Mr. Stark's voice echoed through his head. If you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it.

No. No, he refused. He refused to believe that. He could do this. He was Spider-Man. "Come on Peter.", he whispered in encouragement. "Come on Spider-Man.", he said a little louder. The debris above him shifted. He was doing it. He was doing it!

"Come on Spider-Man!", he yelled, getting up as the metal moved off of him.

His breathing steadied, as the city around his reappeared in the teen's vision. The breathing steadied as he released himself from the fetal position the boy had put himself in. Incoming Call: Mr. Stark

"Hey, Pete. Is everything alright?", his dad asked in a calm but concerning voice Peter had grown accustomed to. "Your heartbeat shot through the-" "It happened again.", was all the teen answered with, taking deep breaths in recovery. The man nodded gently in understanding.

"Hey, son?", he asked, keeping his voice low. "Yeah Dad?", Peter responded, sighing a little. He had remembered Tony Stark's original name for him a while back, but... he didn't want to change it. It was kind of relieving, calling his idol/mentor/father figure what he had wanted to for months at the time, instead of being worried about it slipping out and the awkwardness of afterwards.

"It's, uh, getting a little late. Think you can swing on back just fine?" Peter moved his head slowly, pain dissipating, but still present. "Yeah. See you in a bit. End call."

Standing back up, he stretched for a moment before shooting a web onto a building and swinging away.