Spider Suit
Peter groans as the fresh morning light bursts through his curtains. The weekend was a rush. Spending hours testing suits with Ganke, eating pizza and having the man run through numerous tests. The strangest of which was the ‘blood’ test. It’s the only real way for Peter to describe the newest change to his body. Hemolymph. The blue, copper-based fluid that runs through a spider's arteries, which explained vomiting up a small gallon of blood into an Oscorp toilet.
Which is still confusing. Peter seems to have the same, heck, maybe better, regeneration ability that Miles does, but he should have vomited more blood. Unfortunately, Octavius Industries doesn’t have the proper equipment to check on his cardiovascular system, so that task is being saved for when Miles is back on his feet.
“Peter, are you up? I know that online school means you can stay in later, but you still need to be up, Champ!” Uncle Ben’s voice rings out.
“I’m up! I’m up! I’ll be down in a minute!” Peter yells back as he flips out of bed. Walking on the ceiling as he pulls his clothes to him with his webs, the boy wonders to himself about how this ‘training’ is meant to help him. Ganke told him that he should practice until his suit is ready, but walking on the ceiling and using his webs? He guesses getting used to the sensation is probably for the best.
Pulling his phone towards him, he flicks through his notifications, absentmindedly flipping and turning as he crawls across the ceiling into the bathroom. Brushing his teeth as he responds to some messages from his friends and rereading the school's notice about online school following the gymnasium and half of the school being destroyed. Finishing his three-minute count, Peter is about to spit out the toothpaste before his phone pings, a single notification ringing out.
His eyes widen for a second before a grin spreads on his face. Flipping onto the floor, Peter spits out the toothpaste, quickly washing the toothbrush before pulling the backpack off his door and leaping down the stairs.
“Whoa! What’s going on, Peter? Why are you in a rush? You can’t be late for online school.”
“Actually, I totally forgot I was meant to be studying with Lonnie and Eddie at the library. We were going to exchange notes, so I’ve got to run!”
“Oh, dear. Well, take some of the toast and bacon. You know what? Give me a second,” May says as she quickly walks into the kitchen, coming out with a fully prepared lunch bag, which she hands to Peter.
“May, how did you-”
“Oh, just an Aunt’s instincts, Peter. Now go on.”
Grabbing some of the toast and shoving some bacon between it and biting into the sandwich as he waves goodbye and leaps out of the door in a sprint. He runs to the Forest Hills station, pushing through the crowds of people, the calls of annoyance and distress following him as he bounds up the stairs and slips into the carriage of the train, the doors slamming shut behind him as he looks at the startled crowd.
The train is running late, but that’s fine. It’s not like he needs to be on time. In fact, the only thing he needs to be on time for is school, and he still has… a little under an hour. But even then, he can use his phone to start online classes. It’ll be fine! Right?
“Stop thinking like that,” he mutters under his breath as the train continues to rattle along the tracks. Realising that he’s not going to have much to do, Peter reaches into his pocket, pulling out his newly acquired headphones, a ‘gift’ from Ganke, and pushes them in his ear, flicking through his phone as he lets the music blare into his ears.
We are now arriving at Penn Station. We are now arriving at Penn Station. The LIRR announcement rings out through the carriage, startling Peter as he jumps out of the doors quickly and spins around, running out of the beautiful architecture as he watches the bus leaving. He groans, turning around. He begins running down 8th Avenue, heading down the road and barreling towards Jane Street.
“MOVE! I’M GOING TO BE LATE!”
As he rounds the corner, he sees the sign for 8th and Jane, pulling out his phone as he looks at the time. 8:45. Not great. Actually, that’s terrible. He has five minutes to make it to Octavius Industries and-
8:46.
With no time, Peter dashes forward, quickly making his way down the quiet street. His vision slows, eyes narrowing as he leaps up, shooting a web as he latches onto the building and zips himself quickly through the air to the building on the corner of Washington and Jane.
He cracks against the fire exit railing. This is the one he remembered from outside Ganke’s office, knocking on the window as he sees the large Asian man, his long hair free from its usual bun constraint.
“Peter?! Why are you- Don’t you have school?!”
“Talk in a minute, answering class,” Peter says, climbing through the window as he opens his phone. Flicking through the device and inputting the pin to the classroom as he sees the loading wheel.
“You know, you could have just come by after school.”
“It’s online after half the school was destroyed. Face cams are optional, provided you explain your reasoning. I already applied, and they agreed that it doesn't matter because my grades are good. I just need to be on the call to answer questions if they call on me.”
“Uh-huh…”
“The suit can handle that, right?”
“It can, but I’m not sure you should be-”
“Great! Now where is it?”
Groaning, Ganke shakes his head as he walks over to a suitcase, inputting a code on a keypad before calling Peter over. Kneeling in front of the case, Peter looks at the keypad and then at Ganke.
“Thumbs on the touchscreen.”
Following the command, Peter watches as the case clicks and hisses, opening up as he sets his eyes on the suit in front of him. His hands trace the similar, webbed pattern of the mask of the suit, the green-tinted lenses gleaming in the light. Pulling the suit out as he hears the class beginning in his headphones, Peter flips it around, taking in the appearance of the black and green suit. It’s simple, almost exactly the same as Miles’s suit, aside from the deep green and black spider that wraps itself around the chest of the suit, connecting to the V-like shape. Wrapped around the back is the same spider emblem as the original, still matching the deep green of the webbing and firm structure.
“Looks good.”
“Of course it does. I made it,” Ganke says, scoffing as he sits in his chair, “Pass me your phone; if we’re doing this, I’ll need to give you the ability to patch into your classes and listen to me.”
After tossing him the phone, Peter begins changing into the suit, stretching his body as he feels it settle on top of him like a second skin. Twisting and flipping onto the ceiling, he checks his mobility as he looks at Ganke as he clicks away at his keyboard.
“So… What should I do?”
“Rooftop.”
“Okay ~” Peter says, zipping out the window onto the fire escape before twisting into a flip, shooting two more weblines at the edge of the roof as he pulls himself to the top. Walking around the edge of the building, balancing as he waits, a sudden static flare in his right ear makes him flinch.
“Alright, your right ear should be school. Left is me. That working for you?” Ganke says. Peter hums to himself, listening to the biology class in his right ear.
“Yeah, I got it. So where do I start?”
Hearing the clicking of keys in his left ear, Peter looks towards the sky, Ganke beginning to speak, “It looks like there's some kind of attempted break-in on Thompson and Spring, Soho. You should be seeing the exact location appearing in your mask.”
Turning, Peter’s eyes narrow as he watches the AR overlay inside his mask flicker. He looks, seeing a small Spider Icon pop up. He smiles, watching as the icon spins and pulses, clearly indicating his path to the break-in.
“Got it!”
Slowly, he starts running towards the edge of the building, zipping across the gaps between buildings with his webs as he traverses the rooftops. His heart is racing as he perches on the rooftop above the break-in.
“The reports say it should be six guys, two armed with small firearms, the others seem empty-handed.”
“Well, the report's wrong,” Peter whispers back, “They seem to have crowbars and a baseball bat.”
“Shoot. Alright, since this is your first solo fight, I was hoping it was going to be easier. No worries. I might not be able to teach you how to swing through the city, but I can definitely coach you through a fight. Remember the basics?”
“Small movements; don’t use my full strength.”
“Good! Now, see the guy by the door? I want you to take him out first.”
“On it.”
Peter looks across the gap, gauging how he should attack. Crouching down, Peter pushes off of the water butt into a somersault, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in. Opening his eyes, Peter flicks his wrists towards the roof above the door. He presses his fingers into his palms as he shoots webs and zips across to the rooftop.
“Come on! We don’t know when the Spider will get here!”
“I’m tryin’, I’m tryin’! If ya think its tha’ easy do it yourself!”
Growling, the tallest of the men twitches as he looks around, “I ain’t like this. It’s too quiet.”
“Relax, Joe. No one's seen the Spider since Friday. For all we know, the man's dead.”
“‘sides, Hammerhead said he wants the codes from this building. You gonna tell the boss he ain’t got em cause you’re a wuss?”
Listening to the conversation, Peter leans down, tapping the man by the door on the shoulder, watching as he looks up. The goon's eyes widen as Peter sprays a web to cover the man's mouth. He stiffens and falls against the concrete roof with a thud.
“What the…? Frank?” one of the goons says as he looks at his stunned friend and over to where Peter is dangling off the wall.
“Is that… the Spider?”
“New suit. New colour too.”
“Nah, this ‘as got to be some punk kid's prank. The kids clearly too small.
Peter huffs. Eyes narrowing as he looks at the goons, the casual remarks continue as they look at him.
“It’s Arachkid, and I’m going to be the one to lock you up today.”
“Oh, no! He’s so scawwy!” the tall man mocks.
Peter's eye twitches in response to the jab as he flips off the perch and looks at the group.
“Peter… Remember. Hold. Back. I told you about the quiping to relax yourself right?”
“I’ve got it,” he mumbles to the man in his ear, “So! You guys must be the dumb, dumber, and dumbest gang! It’s a pleasure to meet you. Spider-Man didn’t think you guys were worth the effort so he sent me in his place.”
“He what?!”
“You heard me. It’s like Dr Seuss would say: One fly, two flies, three flies, more! Stuck in a web as the fail to break in doors.”
“Oh, wow. That was not where I thought you’d take that but nice job!”
Yelling, one of the goons charges forward after Ganke’s praise greets Peter’s eager ears. Spinning as he avoids the errad swing of a crowbar, weaving around into the crowd as he’s surrounded. Cracking his neck, Peter crouches down, gesturing for the men to try and hit him.
He sees one of the men with a gun aim, firing towards Peter, the familiar tingle in the back of his neck dragging him out of the way of the incoming bullets. Firing a web to the man that was behind him, he yanks the goon to the floor as the bullets sail past both of them. With a heave, he hears the tallest man shout as he brings his hands down towards the kid. Twisting, he feels himself get caught in the side by the hit, letting out a low hiss as he spins, tripping the man before firing a web to pin him down.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” he mentions as the man starts trying to get up, “unlike Spidey, my webs are toxic. One touch with your skin and you’ll be out for an hour. Consuming it can take eight to wear off, so be a good little fly and stay still.”
“Oh yea-!” the man begins to say, breaking free from the web before it grazes his cheek and he falls flat on his face.
“I warned him. Now, really guys? You still want to fight?”
“Shut up!” the other criminal with a gun says as he climbs onto the roof level above them, firing rounds into the roof which Peter manages to barely avoid.
“I guess shooting a spider in a barrall is a lot harder than fish, huh?”
“Dammit! He’s just as quick as the spider!”
“Now can we stop fighting? I don’t enjoy picking on the weak. Who am I kidding, I’m actually kind of enjoying this,” Peter asks, the rhetorical question hanging in the air as he runs around the goons, aiming a round house heel kick to one of the mens heads.
Ducking under the kick, the goon is about to strike back with his bat, twirling it as he raises it above his head to strike down. Peter twists, using his ability to stick to surfaces to lower himself further, throwing the missed kick back down towards the criminals leg, the grunt that follows signalling his success. Spinning, he connects his foot to the still raised bat, pushing off the mans shoulders as he spins and lets the bat go flying into the mans face.
“Three strikes, and you’re out!”
“Dammit! He even quips like the spider!”
“I’d say he’s not as good.”
“HEY! It’s my first day and I’m still whooping your butts! Give it some time!”
Shooting a web towards the obnoxious criminal that bad mouthed his quipping ability, Peter watches as the line connects. He smirks beneath his mask as the criminal looks down, eyes widening beneath his balaclava.
“Wait, please! I don’t wanna be thrown off the roof aga-!” he begins saying before he’s pulled into the wall, his nose crunching against the brick with a sickening sound.
“Ooo… I… I didn’t mean to make that happen. Maybe you should take him to the hospital? Then you can turn yoursleves and your buddies in.”
Peter watches the two gunman share a look, guns raising again. He sighs, realizing that they’re going down with the ship.
“Kind of admirable, but we aren’t on a ship. Last call for not receiving a spider beatdown!”
“Peter, can you answer the question?”
Peter’s eyes widen, his attention flicking to the class as he looks across the board illuminated in his lens. Right. The biology class. He almost- No. He completely forgot about it.
“Peter?”
“Sorry, teach!” Peter yells, rolling and jumping out of the way of gunfire as he tries to recall the question. His mind working to remind of the taxidermy classifications, “Uh, is it Class, as in the Arachnida?”
“That’s correct, Peter. Are you okay? It sounds like you’re out of breath.”
“Yeah, I’m fine!” Peter replies, shooting webs at the feet of the gunman and dragging them off their feet, their heads hitting the ground with a crack and groans, “Just saw a rat in my room, and I’ve been trying to chase it out!”
“Ah, I see. There does seem to be something going on with rats in people's houses. Now-” Mr Warren begins saying, Peter drowning out the noise as he refocuses on capturing the men. Securing them in a neat ball, Peter pulls out his pen and paper, leaving a note for the police. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, he feels the familiar tingle on the back of his neck as he narrows his eyes, seeing some kind of black and purple silhouette leaping between buildings away from the jewlerry stores at the corners of Thompson and Prince.
“Nice work, Peter! I’ve sent a noticed to-”
“Ganke, I think I see someone that's managed to rob the two stores on the corner of Thompson and Prince.”
“What? I- Oh, hang on. Yep, just got an alert, but Peter, maybe you should stop for today and-”
“I’m going after them.”
“Peter-” Ganke begins to protest, but the boy tunes him out, leaping and jumping across the rooftops as he bounds up Thompson Street.
He clicks his tongue as he gets to the corner, seeing the figure start swinging away. Jumping onto one of the buildings, Peter runs along the wall, chasing the now distinctly feminine form of the woman ahead of him.
Leaping from the buildings on either side of Thompson Street to build momentum, he grunts, using as much of his strength as possible to fly into the air and tackle the woman on the rooftop of one of the buildings.
“Hey! What the-?! Wait, Spider-Man?!”
“You’re way too fast to be a normal person,” Peter says between pants. His eyes silently track the slender frame of the woman he’s restraining, gulping as he sees the low cut of her black and purple suit.
“Oh? You’re not Spider-Man… Is something on your mind, little Spider?” the domino-masked woman asks, smirking as she looks up at her captor. Batting her long eyelashes in a seductive glance, she says, “You seem… distracted.”
“Just… just give me the jewellery.”
“Why? Don’t you know diamonds are a girl's best friend?”
“And stealing is wrong. Give them to me.”
“No way, Itsy Bitsy. They’ll look so much better on me. Don’t you think?”
“I’m not Itsy Bitsy.”
“Ooo~ touchy subject. Then what should I call you, handsome?”
“Wha-!? I-!” Peter says, his face flushing as he feels the woman walk her fingers along his chest and collarbone, “You first.”
“Hmm… I guess that’s fair. Call me… Black Cat. The Prowler’s apprentice, well, my skills surpass his.”
“Alright, I’m Arachkid. Why did you choose Black Cat? It… doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”
“Hmm…” the Cat hums as she continues to smirk up at the boy, “Well, Arachkid. Two reasons. The first? I’m as agile as a cat.”
Peter frowns, looking into her swirling emerald eyes, as she places a hand to his cheek, “And the second?”
“I bring misfortune to those around me.”
He blinks, tilting his head, before his leg is caught and he’s thrown off of the Cat. Waving her hand, Black Cat blows him a kiss before raising a piece of cloth in her hand and dropping it. Reaching for his face, Peter’s eyes widen as he notices the missing mask. Gritting his teeth, he rushes towards the edge of the building, shooting a web to grab the mask and pulling it back on. Turning, he prepares to chase Black Cat, but she’s gone. Not even a whisker left in the wind.
“Who is she?”