Why Me?
Why
Just why?
His day had been going great. He woke up on time, ate breakfast, kissed his boyfriend, he even had a nice conversation with Sally before school. So why did his day have to take such an abrupt turn?
It started with a whistle. Innocent right? Right. Nope, not one bit. The whistle happened to belong to a very burly man who was dragging a BODY down an alley. Like come on man it's 8 in the morning. Can't you just wait till after school?
Then again, he chose to be a superhero and that doesn’t exactly have set work hours so.
Still annoying. Whatever.
Peter makes quick work of the man that kind of looks like a Walmart wreck-it-ralph. He webs the guy to the side of the alley and checks if the body that he was dragging was dead. She wasn’t. Thank the Gods.
Then, because of the wreck-it-ralph wannabe, he was late to school. Again. They should just expect it at this point. His teacher gave him a long stare that just screamed, "I'm so done with you."
The rest of his day went fine. Except when Flash cornered him in between classes. A couple of bruises never hurt anybody.
But then, right as he was about to leave the hell that we call formal education, his spidey-senses decided that world war 3 had come early. They were thrumming so much that he could barely hear when Harry asked if everything was all right.
So, naturally, he ran. He ran as fast as he could out of the building. Faster than humanly possible. He ran right past Mr. Stark standing outside his car, waiting to pick Peter up. If Peter tried really hard, he could almost hear the confused and concerned yells.
He ran right into the street, which didn’t have any cars moving. He didn’t have time to think about how weird that was because his whole attention was on a figure in the distance. It was big, ugly and almost looked like a giant bull. Shit. The Colchis bull.
He was dead. Very very dead. Looking around quickly he ran into the nearest alley and activated his iron spider suit. He'd never fought a monster as Spider-man. But he didn’t have any choice. He pulled out his enchanted weapon. It could be anything he needed it to be. At this moment it was a short celestial bronze dagger.
As soon as he could, he swung out of the alley towards the bull. He fought on pure muscle memory. Slash, roll, dodge, stab, repeat. He was doing absolutely nothing to the bull. If he searches his mind long enough, he can remember Percy saying something about the bull. Something about fire. No, that can't be right.
His spidey senses shriek. He jumps out of the way of a very hot blast of hellfire from the thing's mouth. Never mind, Percy was 100% right, my bad. Peter continues to search his mind for anything Percy might have said about killing the thing. Honestly, half the time Percy is talking Peter is just staring at how his mouth moves around the word and how his eyes light up ever-
Focuse Peter! This is not the time.
As he dodges yet another attempt to turn him into spider-kabab. He notices that Ironman had joined the fight at some point, fruitlessly shooting the thing with his blasters. Peter turns on his coms and is graced with an incoherent string of curses coming from Mr. Stark.
“Wow, Mr. Stark,” a grin forms on his face “Steve would be really disappointed in you right now.”
“Kid, I think Steve would understand if he was here. Do you have any idea what this thing is or how to kill it?” Before Peter could say something, the bull shot a large burst of fire right at him.
“Jesus, this thing needs a muzzle. You all right Underoos.” Mr. Stark said, still shooting at the bull. Peter nods and goes to continue fighting but stops.
Its mouth. Percy killed it by shoving riptide down its throat. Great. That’s not going to be easy at all. He'd have to get right in front of it so he could throw his dagger into its throat. While its mouth was open. Just great. All Peter wanted to know is what luck god he pissed off in a past life. Tyche? Fortuna? Shai!? Whoever it was, Peter would like to give them his sincerest apologies and ask for a goddamn break.
Before he could think of the dozens of reasons why he shouldn't do this, Peter charges headfirst at the bull. Calculating the angle, he pulls his arm back and hurls the dagger straight into the thing's mouth. He watches in slow motion. Hearing Mr. Stark’s yelp of surprise, watching the dagger fly through the air, feeling his spidey-sense ring dangerously, and feeling hot air barreling towards him.
Uh-oh
Peter didn’t move fast enough, and he felt the pain before he saw the damage. His suit was good but no match for the fire of a Colchis bull. He really should have stayed in bed today. Looking over his shoulder he could see the bull melt into a golden flurry. He also watched as his dagger disappeared from thin air.
Cool, he’s not dead. Peter listens as the repulsers land near him but he can’t find any strength to lift his head. He can also hear Mr. Starks worried ‘Pete’, but all his focuse is on the black spots circling his vision. His last coherent thought is that this is going to be a pain to explain without unearthing the entire Greek pantheon.
Why him?