Chapter Text
Peter groaned when he ate pavement, the smell of bleach and Rit dye of his DIY ski mask pressing against his face and assaulting his poor super-powered nose.
"You good Spider-dude?"
Maybe if he did coke with his super-nose, he'd get high and decide that sneaking out every night in a blue and red onesie wouldn't be such a great idea.
"Spider-guy?"
The nice lady whose purse Peter had graciously saved was now poking him with a steel beam so rusty only a blind man would think its metal. He's gonna develop super-tetanus at this point. Peter groans and pushes himself up, throwing double peace signs to the lady as he climbs up to his feet.
"I'm great ma'am! And it's Spider-man, your friendly neighborhood Spider-man,"
Peter's proclamation would've been ten times more convincing if he didn't look like a squashed gum-ball. The woman he saved from her would-be mugger rose from her crouch, eyeing him up and down. Peter used to be offended, but when he saw how ridiculous he looked in the reflection of NewYork's skyscrapers, he kinda let it slide. He'll figure out the suit situation. Eventually. For now it's gonna be sweatpants and ski masks.
"But dang lady, you got a brick in there or are you just happy to see me?"
One would think that the great renown Spider-man was taken down by thieves after heroically saving their victims, but no. As soon as Peter webbed up the pickpocket (who embarrassingly wore the same brand of ski mask that Peter does - 3 for 2$ is a steal) he'd been greeted with a purse to the head and was promptly K.O'd.
Peter asked the lady as a joke, so when she pulled put an honest-to-God brick - in a Ziplock??? - from her purse, Peter couldn't help but gawk.
"Miss, I don't think that's legal," Peter eyed the brick the same way the lady eyed his suit. "And what's up with the Ziplock? Got a two for one deal at the discount self-defense store?"
"Boy, I don't think that's legal either," Ms.Brick returned her weapon into her purse, crossing her arms as she raised a judgmental eyebrow at his- everything. "Bricks are dirty as hell yanno, a girl's gotta get creative,"
Peter thought about it, and the disgusting amount of grime he has to wash out of his poor hoodie after every patrol, and shrugged in assent. Maybe he should wear a ziplock suit.
"Anyways, I gotta run. Pigs are out for me and whatever." Like clockwork, sirens could be heard from around the block. "You headed somewhere? Need me to come with?"
Peter extended out an elbow, like a true gentleman. Ms. Brick looked like she wouldn't touch his arm if she were dangling over a building.
"Thanks kid, but I got it from here,"
Peter saluted, grinning when Ms.Brick snorts.
He watched as she walked away, and as soon as she turned the corner, he rounded on the mugger.
The guy was trying to get out of his webs, but those were Midtown High certified, completed with stolen chemicals and a slight incident concerning Peter's beloved MP3, which won't unstick from his desk.
Whatever. It'll unstick someday. Maybe. Peter stretched before swinging away, barely making it before the cops showed up.
Peter's been only doing this whole Spider-man thing for 7 months now, and he's gotten a lot of mixed reactions from a lot of people.
Twitter really likes him, which is great! But the police? Not so much. At least Peter doesn't think a warrant for arrest meant they wanted to hold hands and sing Kumabaya with him.
Whatever. Peter's totally helping. Other heroes only care about the big stuff. Which was totally fine! Peter wouldn't want to get caught up in their mess, like cool aliens and super-secret government organizations. They were so lame, who even cares. Peter wasn't envious at all.
He stood up for the little guy, that's what's important. Like, who'd help little old ladies with their groceries? Or protect bodega cats from Queens' ruthless traffic? He was saving lives out here.
He can't get caught up in adult super hero things anyways, he has homework and Aunt May would kill him if his marks slipped. Actually, she'd just worry, which was ten times worse.
Whatever. This is swinging time, not stressing time. Peter set his sights on a particularly high skyscraper - hello Skyline Tower.
Peter's muscle burned as he went faster, neatly stopping yet another pickpocket and helping an old man pick up his groceries without breaking speed. A bunch of teens pulled their phones out and started filming.
"Do a flip!"
Peter laughed and sent out two webs, pulling himself upwards and flipping neatly onto a roof. He ended his performance with a bow, and was awarded with applause.
Then he turned around and walked straight into a wall.
"Y'all didn't see that! Delete that!"
Peter's cheeks burned through his mask, but the teens were too busy gasping for breath to care about him. Time for a tactical retreat.
"Do another flip!"
Peter flipped them something alright, then immediately regretted it when he noticed they were still filming. This was so going on the Daily Bugle's Twitter.
He leapt over the offending walls - what was it today with bricks - and swung away. Heroically.
Embarrassment still burned through him, but there was a giddy delight in Peter that couldn't be washed away. He just loved being Spider-man too much.
He wasn't some nerd out here, he was a hero. Maybe just to Queens, but to him that's all what matters.
Peter finished his patrol in high spirits, barely making it back into his room before 2AM. He wanted so badly to just collapse into his bed and fall asleep, but he needed to jot down what happened in patrol today.
He was writing reports, like a superhero. It's not a diary, nowhere near close.
But he had noticed that less crime was happening, which statistically doesn't make sense. Peter would love to say it's because of his impact, but Google says crime rates are still the same.
Peter sighed and put away his diar - logbook, under a loose floorboard under his bed.
God, it's like they were avoiding him.
Peter nearly drifted to sleep on that thought, but then shot up. They were avoiding him? Was that possible?
I mean, he did take the same route everyday. Was it too noticeable?
Peter fished out his logbook again, scrawling the idea down. As much as he wanted to look more into this, he needed to sleep. He had a Chem quiz tomorrow, and if he sleeps through another test, his teachers are gonna hate him.
Or worse, ask if something's wrong at home. Gosh, it's like they never respect people's privacy.
Whatever. Peter's gonna stalk twitter tomorrow- there's a weird amount of criminal activity there. Did people think spider-man doesn't have twitter?
For now, he's gonna sleep. Tomorrow, he'll figure it all out. Just like a hero.