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There's a familiar sensation in the air, or maybe it's not the air, but your mind thinking it's the air, you're not so sure, but something's fishy in this place. Sure, you might not believe that walking in alleyways like this one is dangerous, because you've been so many times here, or places like this, that it doesn't matter. But at this moment, your mind is telling that someone else is watching.
Even as you try to arch your back in order to seem more threatening, it's becoming clear to you that it doesn't work that much, since you're giving your back to whoever is following you.
The rain doesn't stop, either, and it's far from helpful.
Heat goes into your arms, and you wince. It's becoming harder to control. And now, with the weather, and this… stranger following you, it seems that today you need to discharge, let everything burn and maybe, just maybe, watch it transform to ashes.
But.
The thought stops. Abrupt, quickly. It's brief, but the temptation still holds you back. You frown, and grab your head with your left hand. Clutching your bag, you try to drown out the sound of rain falling. It doesn't help.
There's this cold feeling, like death trying to grasp at your body, as if it were theirs. You shiver, a reaction common from cold. It's an attempt to fight back the cold.
Steps. One, two. One, two. It's always like this. Heat. Cold. You feel in the middle of a tug-o-war between both. It's eating your mind and you don't want to see, or know or care who wins. It's useless either way.
The last time it happened, you were trapped in a sea of orange rage. Filled with smoke, you start to cough. Your lungs start to hurt, they fight the fire inside, as if this blood, this fiery, destructive fire were acid.
The follower's voice is deep but you can't make sense of what he says. It's lost in translation. Low signal-to-noise ratio. Your mind stops and searches for something to distract you.
Then, it simply happens too fast.
You hear punches, something else dropping, sharp and metallic, cold, and then steps, but this time, they're going away instead of getting to you. It's relieving, how quickly things change.
But the pain keeps going.
Another set of steps get closer to you.
"Hey, are you ok?" His voice sounds familiar, but you can't place where it comes from.
Silence. A pause. You clutch your arm close to your heart, because you can't help that feeling. You feel as if your arm that's starting to burn is going to be ripped apart.
"Did something happen to your arm?" He speaks, again. Bus this time, he doesn't know what else to do. The suit means that he's either a Spiderman wannabe, or the real deal. But, the voice… "Can I see it? Is it broken? Do you… do you mind if I take a look?"
His questions come rushing through your mind, and there's nothing in you head that can catch those thoughts again. You stretch your arm out to him, and when you see him, finally see him, there's something that clicks inside.
That's Peter Parker. His mask, that he (now that you're aware) uses is destroyed, showing his face.
He seems to realize when he grabs your hand, and sees your face, dirty because of the previous fight you had with that man. Peter quickly recovers from that impasse. Just as he touches your hand, there's a sizzling sound coming from his.
Peter yelps, and when he recovers with the cold water, there's the fact that he doesn't have his mask on.
"Hey… uh, don't we study in the same…? Uh, no, no, never mind! I'm sorry, that was, that was too personal, and, and I shouldn't—shouldn't be showing my face in this place!"
Peter puts the rest of the mask on, but it only succeeded at hiding his eyes and nose.
"It's not too bad, is it? Sorry. I… well. You have powers, too."
As Spiderman makes another attempt to grab your hand, he recognizes the scorch marks around your clothes, and puts out a small flame that's on your neck.
You stand up, shakily, as he pulls you up.
"That's better. Now, uh. We should, you know, take care of this. I can't, well, I probably could hide or leave, but you're completely new at this super power thing, isn't it?"
You nod at his question. Surprisingly, the fact that Spiderman is in your class, and your school, doesn't bother you in the slightest. It's not like he's the only one with powers, now that you think of it.
"Figures." He chuckles, and then he makes a spiderweb up to the roof of the building. "So that means I must show you the drill, or, well, you could just walk away after we take care of this. Considering… you know, your state and the situation. Uh, maybe that didn't come out right."
You laugh for a bit. The thought of becoming a hero? That's… good. It gives you the same feeling you have when you manage to eat until your stomach is full. Helping others, maybe even using your powers for the greater good, fighting the good fight… It's a strange thought.
But in equal parts exciting.
You don't feel the same when you're still standing under the rain. It's almost as if you could catch a cold in this moment.
"It's okay. I… I think I could learn. You, well, you don't know that, but I'm eager to help heroes."
Peter smiles.
"We should go up, then."
You reach for his hand, as he pulls you up with him, the heat is manageable now.