justice
The Jennings household was buzzing with life by 8:00 am every morning. Mrs. Jennings rose around 7:30 am to put on a pot of coffee and the news, and Kat, who seemed to never sleep, was rarely far behind. Most days, by the time Peter awoke, the smell of breakfast had already wafted up through the cracked door of Kat’s bedroom.
As he descended the stairs slowly that morning, he caught sight of his reflection in the glass pane of a picture frame and moved to run a hand through the unkempt mass of hair on his head. In the kitchen, Kat and her grandmother sat across from one another at the round wooden table, each occupied with her own activity. The young redhead looked up upon hearing him enter and pushed her glasses, which appeared only in the early hours of the day, up the bridge of her nose.
“Good morning,” she called out. “Pancakes are by the stove and there’s syrup in the fridge. Peter muttered a quick thank you, voice still husky with sleep before pouring himself a mug of coffee.
“Teenage military leader canonized in 1920?” Mrs. Jennings asked aloud, turning her gaze to Kat.
“What have you got so far?” she asked in return, nose scrunching as she pondered the hint.
“Starts with a ‘J’. Last three letters are ‘arc’,” the older woman said, eyes flitting back down to the newspaper before her.
“Hmm. Try Joan of Arc,” Kat replied finally after a moment's pause before returning to her work.
Peter slid into the seat between the two women, unearthing his phone from his pocket to check his texts. He’d made Aunt May aware of his current living situation shortly after it became apparent that his ‘Mr. Negative Problem’ wasn’t going away any time soon. Though she’d expressed concern for Kat’s safety, they’d both agreed that this was the best course of action for now. Furthermore, she’d offered to take him with her for her volunteer shift at F.E.A.S.T. that afternoon, so that he might poke around and follow up on the lead from the Reddit thread he’d found earlier that month.
“You got any big plans for today?” Kat asked, eyes not leaving the screen of her laptop.
“Not really. Volunteering with my aunt this afternoon, but that’s pretty much it,” he replied through a mouthful of pancakes.
“Mind if I tag along?” Peter struggled not to choke on his food. Of course, Kat’s presence would not be an ideal circumstance given that, among many other reasons, the very man he was seeking out through attending his aunt’s shift was looking to actively harm her. And yet, who was he to say no?
“Sure,” he managed, attempting to swallow his unease.
“Cool. I really don’t think I can handle staring at this hot mess screenplay any longer,” she sighed, closing the laptop and moving from her seat beside him. “I’m gonna change, let me know when you’re heading out.”
It really was an accident that Peter forgot to let Kat know he was leaving. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe his brain was purposefully sabotaging him in a last-ditch effort to keep her out of harm's way. But most likely it just slipped his mind. Either way, he felt his stomach fill with dread when the flurry of red hair appeared beside him.
“You left me,” Kat cried out indignantly.
“Sorry, I forgot you were coming,” Peter supplied, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.
“Whatever loser, you can’t get rid of me now,” Kat joked, lightly shoving at his shoulder. The two trekked slowly down the cold New York streets, arms brushing as they took turns watching their breath turn to smoke when met with the biting air. Peter was struck by how different walking with Kat seemed when he wasn’t Spider-man. When she didn’t hate him. Still, he brushed it off and found comfort in the closeness she allowed him as Peter.
When they arrived at the F.E.A.S.T. volunteer site, Kat followed closely behind Peter as he scanned the faces in the crowd in search of his aunt. If Kat insisted on coming, so be it, he would just find May and allow the two to distract each other while he snooped around for information. Upon spotting a familiar head of brown hair, streaked with grey, Peter reached for Kat to pull her in the right direction. The smaller girl took the queue, wrapping an arm around his as they worked their way through the throng of people to get to Aunt May.
“Peter!” May’s face lit up with excitement upon his approach, an expression that only doubled when she caught sight of Kat wrapped around his arm.
“And who might this be?” she asked with a warm smile.
“Kat. Kat Jennings,” Kat grinned, releasing Peter’s arm to shake his aunt’s extended hand, and though he couldn’t think of why, he felt his heart sink at the loss of contact.
“Peter’s girlfriend?” May asked nonchalantly, obviously fishing for more information.
“Oh, no,” the pair jumped in at the same time and Peter felt a flush creep up his neck.
“Just friends actually,” Kat confirmed.
“That’s too bad, you look good together,” May winked and Peter had to look away, embarrassment painted in broad strokes across his face.
“Anyways,” he attempted, determined to redirect the conversation, “what can we do to help?”
“Well, aprons are over there,” May began, pointing to a wall covered in pegs across the room, “the kitchen doors open to the public in fifteen minutes. I can get the two of you set up at a serving station together if you'd like?”
“Oh, that would be-”
“Actually,” Peter cut Kat off, “I really need to use the bathroom. Maybe you and Kat could work together and I’ll just find a station when I get back?”
The two women looked at him curiously and Peter could only pray that neither would dispute his claim.
“Okay,” Kat accepted slowly, “I guess that’s fine with me.”
“Do you need help finding the bathroom?” May asked, but Peter was already walking away.
“I’ll be alright on my own,” he said with a wave.
Despite the thriving soup kitchen, the actual office spaces within the building showed no signs of life. The lights had long since been turned off and Peter felt unease bury itself deep within his stomach at the sight of a thin layer of dust spread across every surface. Careful not to disrupt anything, he moved slowly through the space until he encountered a closed door across the room from the entrance with a silver placard labeling it ‘Manager’. Perfect. There must be some sort of volunteer log I can trace back to that day.
Slowly opening the door, Peter moved inside, making his way around the desk to the computer. The screen blinked on with a shift of the mouse, taunting Peter with its request for a login and password. Shit. Shifting around the belongings on the desk, he sought out any available hints. As he lifted the keyboard from its place on the desk, a crumpled yellow Sticky-Note caught his eye.
“Bingo,” Peter whispered to himself, quickly entering in the information. Reaching down to dig his phone out of his pocket, Peter checked the date on the bookmarked Reddit thread. September 18th, 2021. His eyes scanned the desktop, before opening up the iVolunteer program. Sorting his way through the program, he located a list of the staff present on the eighteenth, before printing the page and exiting the program. Just as he was stuffing the folded document into his back pocket, a voice rang out from behind him.
“Peter Parker. We meet at last.”
Whipping around, Peter caught sight of the man in the doorway. He looked exactly as he had that day outside the cafe, his skin a strange dark grey color and the whites of his eyes black as night.
“I take it you’re the Mr. Negative I’ve heard so much about?” Peter’s tone was light, but his eyes scanned the room carefully, taking in all options for escape.
“Good to know my reputation proceeds me.” He smiled and Peter fought the urge to step back out of surprise as he flashed two rows of teeth black as the whites of his eyes.
“What do you want from me?” Peter asked, his curiosity winning out over the urge to remain stoic.
“I want you gone. With Spider-man in New York, certain business ventures of mine suffer, and I can’t afford bad business,” the man stated plainly.
“And Dr. Connors? Why break him out?”
“You can’t seriously expect me to sit here and divulge all of my plans to you, Peter Parker. I thought you were smarter than that. Besides, I’ve benched Curt, I obviously never should have sent a fool to do a grown man’s job,” Mr. Negative shrugged.
“You think you can kill me?” Peter scoffed.
“Who said I was here for you?” he laughed before spinning on his heel and yanking the door closed behind him. Kat. Kat who is only a room away with Aunt May. Peter’s head was screaming as the sound of the door being locked rang out through the room.
“No!”
Launching himself forward, Peter ripped the handle from the door before kicking it open. He quickly webbed the entrance to the office shut, trapping a now angry Mr. Negative in the room with him.
“Leave them alone, it’s me you want dead, so kill me. I’d like to see you try,” he spat harshly, squaring off with the man across from him. Slowly, his adversary’s face morphed into a scowl as he reached back to draw out a blade, strange and discolored like the rest of him. He surged forward, sword extended, pointing his weapon directly at Peter’s chest. The hero easily evaded him, dodging to the side, before moving to swing at his opponent’s face. Seemingly unfazed, Mr. Negative lifted the blade to meet Peter’s fist, who cried out in shock at the sound of his hand shattering against the steel.
“What the-”
The other man allowed him no time to think, lifting his sword once more to swing at Peter’s throat. Backing away, Peter spotted a large metal cabinet across the room, shooting a web in its direction before pulling hard and darting to the side. It scraped across the floor, slamming into an unsuspecting Mr. Negative who fell beneath its weight in an explosion of paper and office supplies.
Slowly, Peter watched as the man rose again, casting the now-empty cabinet aside and turning to him with a growl. Taking the opportunity at attack as a queue, Peter webbed the front two corners of the room on either side of the wall of windows, creating a makeshift slingshot for himself. Backing up quickly, he threw his body into the air, planting both feet firmly on the other man’s chest and sending him flying through the window, into the alley below.
He collapsed in the pile of shattered glass, working desperately to regain his breath and clutching his now broken hand, holding it tight against his chest. As he stood to check the alley below for the man, he drew back in surprise finding him already gone. Threat averted, for now. That is until a voice rang out across the room.
“What the fuck.”
Peter whipped around to find Kat, brown eyes wide with shock staring at the scene before her. Webs on the walls, glass covering the floor, papers everywhere. She would have to a moron to have missed out on the fact that-
“You’re Spider-man.”
“Oh my God,” she started quietly.
“Kat, listen,” Peter inched forward to grab her.
“Oh my God,” her voice raised, louder now. In fact, she was on the verge of yelling.
“Kat I really need you to-”
“Do not fucking touch me,” she smacked away the shakey hand Peter had extended to place on her shoulder.
“You are out of your mind if you think- You are a criminal, you know that Peter? You could be arrested. Vigilantism, not to mention assault and battery, maybe even murder. Is that guy dead? Did you kill that man? Oh my God, I’m gonna have to testify in court, I don’t even own business casual clothes, what the fuck am I supposed to wear in a court of law? And-”
“Kat, shut up.” This time, as Peter moved in to grab her, his grip did not relent. “I need you to listen to me, please.”
Slowly, he pulled his hand away from her mouth and watched as tight-lipped, she glared at him but waited anyways for him to speak.
“Yes, I am Spider-man-”
“All those times you walked me home. Were you following me? That day that man attacked me? Oh my God. I let you into my house. With my grandmother. Were your pipes even broken?” Peter wanted to scream as she continued on her tirade of questions.
“And you know what else-” Peter cut her off with a swift web to the mouth. Kat’s eyes doubled from their already massive size and a series of indignant noises left her now obscured lips.
“Please. I need you to listen.” Peter continued to hold one of her arms with his good hand.
“No. My pipes were not broken,” Kat’s eyebrows jumped up as if aiming to meet her hairline.
“But,” Peter continued, “I had to find a way to protect you. I’m sorry. I know it’s weird, but that guy, the one I just threw out the window, he thought you were my girlfriend. You remember? That day in the cafe when I ran outside and you looked at me like I was crazy?” Kat nodded slowly.
“Right, well he saw us together and now he wants to use you to get to me. And I know you’re mad and frankly you have every right to be, but everything I did, I did to keep you safe,” he promised, pausing to plead with Kat with his eyes. She only glared back before indicating the web covering her mouth.
“Shit. Sorry,” Peter apologized, reaching up to gently remove it.
“I have a lot to say to you,” she said firmly, planting a finger on his chest, “but for now, we need to get out of here before someone finds all of this.”