superposition

Spider-Man was everything that Peter Parker wanted to be. He was like a game of pretend and sometimes when the suit was on, he could pretend that nothing had changed. People recognized him with the suit, Spider-Man was remembered. 

Peter Parker was not.

His life was pretty fucked up, Peter would be the first to admit it. The past two years… who was he kidding? The past five years of his life (Could it count as ten if he included the five that he spent as ash? ) have been complete chaos and pain, all because Peter had been a naive little kid that wanted to play superhero. Four years ago, he had everything. Now he was 18 and he had nothing. 

Parker Luck. That’s what May had called it, whenever something very small and miniscule went wrong for him or Ben, May always cursed that goddamn Parker Luck with a huge grin on her face and a hug that would make everything okay.

But May wasn’t here anymore, there were no hugs and nothing would ever be okay again.

Peter sat on the top of the Empire State Building, staring out at the bright lights that lit up New York City. It was quieter up here, he could see why Peter Three had spoken of it so fondly. 

The police radio, which Peter had connected to his comm, crackled to life, “We have a 10-66 on Brooklyn Bridge. Requesting backup." He barely had time to put his mask on before the hair on the back of his neck stood up, causing him to stand up in alarm. His ears were buzzing with the feeling of vertigo and for a moment, it seemed like the world was going in slow motion as he turned to the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge. He needed to get there. Now.  

Peter leapt off of his perch, throwing his arm out for a web and he swung across the city. His spidey-sense was growing louder as he grew closer to the bridge. He landed a few yards away, scanning the area as he tried to find what was amiss.

 “All units needed. 10-66 has just turned into a 10-79.” 

His eyes landed on the figure standing in the middle of the bridge, barricades set up on both sides, effectively blocking the traffic flow as cars honked. His spidey-sense was practically screaming at him as the man raised his hand, a metal gadget resting between his fingers.

To Peter, he looked like a textbook criminal, dressed in some funky red and black suit that he supposed was the man’s super villain getup. 

In a split second, everything descended into chaos as the man broke the gadget in half, causing an explosion on the side of the bridge to go off. The cars that were once honking in annoyance were now being thrown across the bridge and screams could be heard from every direction. “10-80! 10-80! All units move in, now!” 

Spider-Man moved into action, leaping forward as he swung across the bridge towards the figure, who seemed to be fidgeting with more gadgets."Incoming!” He yelled, connecting his red-and-blue boots into the man’s chest, sending him flying backwards as Peter shot multiple webs, trying to keep cars from falling into the water. He turned quickly, watching as the man stumbled to his feet. 

“Ah, Spider-Man,” He was wearing goggles that took up half of his face. “I was wondering when you would show up. He said you would.” 

Peter made a face, though it went unnoticed by his opponent, “Who’s “he”? Better yet, who even are you?” He secured the last web, making sure that none of the cars were in danger of falling off of the bridge. He needed to get the civilians out as soon as possible.

“Figures you wouldn’t know me, my genius always seems to go unseen. He did always let the muscle be seen before I get my chance.” The man was mumbling to himself, though his eyes never once left Peter. “I am, what He calls, the Tinkerer.” He opened his black vest, revealing a plethora of metal devices among the many wires. Peter squinted his eyes slightly, noticing how each device had a pair of wings carved into them. “This is my reckoning.” 

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this.” Peter rolled his eyes, flipping forward and shooting a web at the man only to be met with a metal gadget instead of the Tinkerer. His eyes widened as the wings split apart in his hand, except this explosion did not rock the bridge. This time, it dissolved into veils of electricity, the sparks traveling up Peter’s arms and burning most of the spandex from his hands, leaving his skin visible. 

“What the fuck?! ” He yelped, slapping his hands against his thighs in an attempt to get rid of the sparks. “That was not very nice.” He seethed, his tone dark. 

The Tinkerer let out a joyful laugh, raising his arms in a victorious stance, “This is only the start, Spider-Man. What will you choose?”

“Do all supervillains speak in ridiculously vague questions?” Peter asked, moving to once again leap into action. The moment he went to shoot a web, his sixth sense practically screamed at him, causing the vigilante to freeze in his tracks. The Tinkerer was holding up a remote, the man smiling menacingly at him. 

“You can catch me,” He said, his finger hovering over the button on the remote, “Or you can catch them.” With that, he pressed the button, setting off a chain of explosions down the bridge. As the first went off, the webs that Peter had secured the cars with were no longer of use as the foundations they were stuck on blew apart. 

Peter’s eyes widened as the screams of the car's occupants filled the air, the young man cursing as he realized the choice at hand.

As much as he wanted to go after the Tinkerer, the right answer was obvious so he turned, running in the opposite direction of the villain as he planned his next move. 

There were four cars on the left side of the bridge and two on the right; he had enough web fluid to secure them all. There was a small interval between each explosion, so he had very little time to get from one car to the next, not to mention that each car weighed differently. He only had one chance to get this right or else he wouldn’t be able to save everyone (he had to save everyone.)

“Physics, this is physics,” Peter mumbled to himself. “You’re good at physics.” He took a step back before running forward, leaping into the air before he contorted his body into a swan dive, flying off the side of the bridge. He connected a web to the first car and another to the bridge, yanking himself back into the air and pulling the car with him. The connecting web was then secured back onto the bridge as Peter took extra care to avoid the crumbled pillars. 

He continued the same process, working quickly to connect each of the cars to a different part of the bridge as their original connection was lost due to the explosions. Peter could only hope that everyone within the cars was okay as he was sure that being thrown around multiple times was a truly traumatizing experience. After securing the last car, he leapt back onto the bridge only to find the Tinkerer to be gone, much to his dismay.

Peter turned to begin pulling cars up when a horrified voice yelled out, “Help me, please, my son is stuck!” He turned, his eyes falling on a woman. She was gripping the edge of a rail, one of Peter’s webs stuck close to her hand. He took a deep breath, running towards her before he jumped over the railing, swinging himself towards the gray van below. 

He landed on the trunk, ripping off the back window only to hear a petrified wail of a little boy. “Help!” He was crying over and over again, his small legs powerful enough to shake the van back and forth as he kicked. “Help me! Mommy!” 

“Hey, hey, hey buddy, it’s okay!” Peter tried to soothe, holding his hands up as the little boy turned towards him. “It’s alright,”

His words went unheard as the little boy cried out again, his pitch growing higher. In a split second decision, Peter pulled his mask off, looking the child in the eye as his cries quieted. “Hey look, I’m just a normal guy.” He said softly. “Alright?” The boy hiccuped, shaky breaths leaving his mouth as he calmed slightly, looking at Peter with a mixture of awe and terror. 

“Do you wanna hold this?” Peter asked, extending the mask. At the boy’s nod, he tossed it over, careful with his movements as the car creaked slightly. “Hold my mask.” 

The kid fiddled with it, his breaths evening out a little more. Peter looked around the car, “What’s your name?” His eyes landed on the backpack that fell against the back of the passenger seat. “B-Benji?” He asked, his own voice wavering. 

At the sound of his name, the boy looked at him again, “Yes,” He answered, his voice quiet. 

“Let’s get you out of here.” Peter said, his voice more encouraging as he slowly crept into the car from the back window. He cringed, hearing the way that the car creaked again. “Stay very still,” He instructed, Benji following suit with a small “Alright.”

He took great care in the way he crawled through the car, making his way towards Benji, “I got you,” He assured, holding onto the headrest. Once he made it right beside the kid, he reached around him until his fingers found the buckle of the seatbelt.

“Okay now, I’m gonna undo the belt and you’re gonna hold onto that seat in front of you, okay? On three.” Benji looked at him, his eyes fearful even as he nodded his head. “Okay, one, two, three!” 

Peter unbuckled his seatbelt and Benji fell forward, his back hitting the the driver’s seat with a grunt. “See how easy that was?” He offered him a proud smile, the child breathing heavily once more. “You did a great job!” 

His smile fell when the front of the van was suddenly engulfed in flames and he was alarmed to see them spreading quickly along the vehicle. At the same moment, his web snapped and he only had less than a second to act, shooting a web upwards as the car fell and he grabbed the rear bumper.

Benji screamed as he fell backwards in between the front two seats. Peter groaned as he struggled between holding onto his web and the van, “Benji, climb, now!” There was a level of urgency in his words. 

“I can’t,” Benji cried, his voice tearful. 

“Yes, you can!” He could hear pieces of the car breaking off. His own breaths were shallow as he scrambled for a plan, looking Benji in the eye as he said, “Put…put it on! The mask, it’s going to make you strong.”

Benji looked at him with uncertainty, turning the mask in his hands. “Benji, trust me. Put it on.” Peter was relieved to see him pulling the mask over his head, “There you go! That’s it, that’s it buddy! Now climb!” 

The bumper creaked in his hand, pulling up slightly, “Come on Benji!” He began to climb through the seats of the car, towards Peter. “Do me a favor, a little faster bud! You’re doing great buddy, you’re doing great!” He cheered as Benji grew closer, “That’s it, come on. Keep coming!”

Benji was nearly to him when the bumper broke off and the car dropped, “No!” Peter screamed in horror as Benji let out a terrified wail, his hand extended as he tried to reach for him.

In a quick motion, Peter shot out a web, catching him by the chest as the car fell away from him into the water. 

They both were breathing heavily as Peter shut his eyes tight, trying not to panic at the thought that he almost wasn’t fast enough to save the kid. He flicked his wrist, bringing Benji towards him until the kid was held safely against him. 

As they ascended upwards back to the bridge, Benji pulled the mask back over Peter’s head, hugging the vigilante tightly. Once they made it back over the railing, he quickly handed the kid off to his mother as she sobbed his name, hugging the boy tightly in her arms.

Peter squatted on the rail, watching as she kissed the top of his head, the two of them crying in what he supposed was both fear and happiness. 

“My son!” Benji’s mother cried out before she turned her head towards Peter. She stared for a moment, something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place, “Thank you, Spider-Man, thank you!” She hugged her son tighter as she spoke. Peter could only nod, his throat tight as he threw another web, swinging away quickly. That was close, too close.