The Web Heads

Peter blinked his eyes open and noticed sunlight was filtering through his open window curtains. It’s been a while since he’s seen sun in his bedroom. Beck usually keeps his curtains closed. 

It must have been May who opened them, probably sometime last night when he was asleep. 

As he sat up, Peter swallowed a lump rising in his throat. He didn’t grimace when he walked into the kitchen because the pain was his fault. He should have fought back. Should have said no. He should have been a better person, but he wasn’t, so he deserved this. 

Peter ate in silence at the breakfast table, shoveling soggy Cheerios into his mouth while May chatted about the latest episode of Grey’s Anatomy. 

He placed the bowl in the sink and washed it out himself. At least Peter helped Tiny out of his terrible situation. He was grateful he could help someone else even if he couldn’t exactly help himself. 

It didn’t matter anymore. Peter was getting used to the routine. His main concern now was helping his friends, and Liz was panicking about the homecoming queen campaign so his main priority was her. The Webheads needed a plan. The problem was, outside of detention, none of them really talked. 

Well, Peter could talk to MJ no problem, and he could talk to Ned, but trying to associate with Flash and Liz outside of detention was like trying to tell a cat not to chase a mouse. 

He left for school, giving May a hug on his way out. Strangely, he’s been more attached than ever to his aunt. Peter wasn’t sure if it was because he was grateful she was good to him in comparison to some other people *cough Beck*, or if it was because he was afraid of losing her too. Or maybe he was afraid of Spider-Man meeting his demise and leaving her all alone. That would be the worst thing he could do. Most likely his clinginess was a mix of all three fears. 

“Bye Pete. Have a good day.”

It was always difficult to have a good day on Monday, but he would try his best. 

“See ya later, May. Love you.” 

                     ____________________

Ned was leaning against the locker next to Peter’s, complaining about his lack of sleep while Peter was digging through his locker trying to find a textbook. He could have sworn he dropped it off after lunch, but maybe he left it in economics class. 

A few feet down the hall they could hear Flash joking loudly with his group of friends about this fancy restaurant that Peter has never been to in his life. He imagined Mr. Stark going there, though. Maybe someday, when Mr. Stark isn’t so busy, he could take Peter to that restaurant. 

“What’s up losers.” Flash yelled as he passed them in the hall, shoving Peter further into his locker. 

Ned quickly helped Peter up, scowling at the back of Flash’s head as it disappeared down the hall.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah fine... hey, I found it.” Peter smiled, holding out his textbook. 

“Great now we can get out of here.” Ned closed his locker. 

Something green was sticking out of the side of his book, when Peter pulled it, he realized it was a note.

“Hey man, look. Liz wrote me a note. She wants to meet us after school under the bleachers.”

“Oh my God! We’re going to make out with a senior.” Ned exclaimed. 

Peter scrunched his eyebrows together. “N-No. uh. I don’t think that’s what she means, Ned.”

“Ohhhh. Right. She wants to talk about the Web Head stuff.”

“Yeah. Yeah. The Web Head stuff.”

“Hey.” Am arm unexpectedly wrapped around both Peter and Ned’s neck, causing Peter to spasm in surprise. 

“Sorry about the ‘loser’ comment.” Flash said, his arm around them like he’s an old pal, “But you know, I can’t be seen with you in public. I got this reputation and -“

“Yeah I know.” Peter pulled his shoulder away. “We get it.”

“Don’t take it personally, Parker.”

“How could I?” Peter raised an eyebrow mockingly. 

“Did you get Liz’s note?” Flash asked. He was a pro at changing the subject with ease. 

Peter held up the green sheet of paper to which Flash grinned. “Okay. Perfect. I’ll see you there.”

A shout from across the hall made the friendly hand around his neck go ridged, “Yo, what are you doing Flash?” 

Shoving both Peter and Ned’s heads together, Flash ran off laughing, “nothing, just messing with the losers.” 

“Ow.” Ned mumbled massaging his skull. 

It was hard sometimes for Peter to hold himself back when he knew he could throw Flash across the room with one of his webs in the blink of an eye, but he accepted that he needed to resist the urge. In all honesty, Flash wasn’t so bad. He liked Spider-Man for crying out loud, which was literally the same thing as liking Peter even if Flash didn’t know it. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Peter turned to Ned. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah.” Ned shook his head in disbelief, as if Flash was a puzzle he couldn’t understand. 

                   ______________________  

After the last bell, Peter hurried out of the classroom and navigated his way through the crowded halls of the school in order to find the exit doors. 

When he got onto the football field, a place he only ever passes and never lingers for very long, Peter spotted Flash and MJ sitting on the turf. 

He leaned against the rail of the bleachers and waited for the rest of them to show. It didn’t take long, Liz and Ned arrived no less than ten minutes later.

“Alright. So we need a plan.” Liz said as she tossed a large poster board onto the ground.

“Whoa.” MJ glanced over the long list of words. She really thought this through. 

“A plan for what?” Ned chirped.

“Liz’s homecoming campaign.”

“Oh right. So what’s with the list.” He asked, leaning forward to read some of it.

“Well, I was up all night preparing things for the secret Pep rally. We’re going to need a room, glow sticks, the marching band, lots of posters and flyers -“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. We need a place to work on this.” MJ said. 

“We can do it right here?”

“On the football field... where they have practice literally every evening with Coach Murch and we’re trying to do this prep in secret.” 

“Okay! So not my best idea.” Liz huffed.

“I would say you could come over to my house, but you can’t cause my little sister is really colicky and my parents wouldn’t be happy with a bunch of people possibly disturbing her from her nap.” Ned explained politely. 

“My house is out too.” Liz said.

“Why?” MJ asked.

“Cause it is.”

“We need a reason.”

Liz narrowed her eyes. “My mother’s having a dinner party with her friends.”

“Tomorrow night as well?” 

“She has one every night.” Liz deadpanned.

“Jeez.”

“So unless you want to work on our project with a bunch of rich women breathing down your neck and asking you if you’re engaged yet, or if you have a dowery, I suggest we go somewhere else.” 

“My father’s having an affair.” MJ spit out without really explaining. She quickly added, “So, uh, if we go to my house we might hear a lot of fighting... or sex.”

“Okay! I’ve heard enough.” Flash clapped his hands together. “We can go to my place.”

“Are you sure?”

Flash shrugged. “Yeah, my parents are never home, and when they are, they don’t give a shit about what I’m doing. The house is big enough they probably won’t even know you guys are there.”

So it was settled. They were all going to meet at Flash’s house tomorrow evening directly after school. Flash warned them not to expect any dinner or food because most of it was strictly for his parent’s business guests. 

With the place decided, the Web Heads just needed to figure out who was bringing what. So they got to work discussing everyone’s special abilities. 

Liz was in charge of buying poster boards, and a bunch of paper for the flyers since she had money at her disposal. 

MJ was going to bring all of her art supplies (which according to her was A LOT). She mentioned paint, crayons, colored pencils, and every utensil imaginable. She also had rulers and colorful tape to place over the posters to make it look perfect. She was definitely in charge of making some of the flyers by hand. Those flyers were then going to be dropped into lockers before the start of school on Monday. 

Meanwhile, Ned was going to make an online flyer. He then would hack into the school website and send a mass email to the entire student body informing them of this secret rally. 

Lastly, Peter was in charge of creating ideas for the pep rally. Should they have balloons? Should kids expect to bring their dance shoes for some music? Whatever they were going to do at the rally, it needed to be included on the flyer. Leaving the idea up to Liz was dangerous because she would think of too much stuff that was impossible to pull off. But Peter was reasonable, and he knew what kids liked to do for fun, even if he didn’t participate very often but he also knew limits. The first thing Peter was in charge of was securing a place for this Pep Rally. 

As for Flash, well he was going to supervise everyone and help whoever needed it. Besides, he was already supplying a place to work, so the group figured he didn’t have to do too much. 

“Alright, Web Heads. I’ll see you tomorrow, after school. Let’s meet here and then we can go to my house.”

                      _____________________

Jumping from the top of an old apartment building, Peter landed in a squat position on the ground of a dark alley. He quickly took his Spider-Man mask off, and stuffed it into his backpack which was thankfully where he had left it. There had been plenty of times in the past when someone had stolen his backpack while he was on patrol. 

As he changed into his Peter Parker clothes, comfy t-shirt and khakis, he noticed a missed call on his cell phone. 

Oh no, Happy! It was Happy and he missed the call. Quickly, Peter fumbled to open his lock screen and somehow managed to drop his phone on the concrete, shattering another section of the already damaged screen. 

Wincing, Peter picked it up and recalled Happy. After the first few rings, Peter was sure he was going to be left with another voice mail, but then something miraculously happened: Happy actually answered. 

“There you are. I left a call fifty minutes ago.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was Spider-Manning. But Happy, oh my God, you have no idea how glad I am that you actually called. Okay, so I have so much to report.”

“Save it kid. I heard all your messages, I get that you are doing great. So good job, but that’s not why I’m calling.” 

“Do you have a real mission for me!?” The excitement was oozing out of his voice like buttercream icing.

“No.” And there goes all his excitement, down the drain. Like the icing got wiped off his cake and it was just a giant spongy mess of yellow now. “But Tony is coming back to New York next week if you want to talk to him.”

“Seriously?! Happy! That’s - That’s awesome! That’s amazing. That’s even better than a new mission. Wow, I get to see Mr. Stark again. Wow. Is he going to give me a list of things to improve? Is he going to give me another upgrade to the suit? Do you think he’ll want to run over ideas for the avengers with me?” Peter gasped, “Do you think he’ll make me an Avenger?”

“For my sanity, I hope not.”

Peter laughed, “You’re so funny.”

“Yeah. Okay. I gotta go.” He said awkwardly. “I just wanted to tell you because next week, you can bother Tony instead of me. Understand?”

“Yes! Yes, Mr. Happy, sir.”

The phone call ended immediately, surprising Peter a little at how short-lived the goodbye was, well actually it was a non-existent goodbye. But who cares?! Mr. Stark was coming home. 

Peter finished stuffing his suit into his backpack, and he ran home with glee, feet slapping the asphalt hard as he tore through the streets. 

He stopped running when he entered his apartment building, and a feeling of unwanted dread formed in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t feel this way going home. Balling his fists at his side, Peter stepped into the familiar elevator and counted the floors in his head. 

He relished in his last few moments of happiness, reminded himself of Mr. Stark’s return one last time, and then stepped foot on his floor, walking to his apartment room.

He could hear music coming from inside which was a good sign. May was probably home. Dear God, he prayed for May to be home.

Stepping inside, Peter closed the door behind him and slowly walked towards the kitchen. May and Beck were setting the table laughing, and dancing around. Peter almost felt happy for them. He wanted to feel happy for them. But he couldn’t. Not when he knew what kind of man Beck really was. 

“There he is!” May exclaimed, dropping her plate to the table and rushing over to squeeze Peter’s face. 

“Hey May,” Peter smiled, grimacing as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Okay, okay.” Peter said wiping his face with his shoulder sleeve. “I missed you too.”

“Guess what? Quinten and I made spaghetti! Can you believe that? I’ve always wanted to make an Italian dish like spaghetti and yet, I never could.”

“I know. I was there for the fire.”

She playfully slapped his arm. “Well guess what? This is the sweetest tasting spaghetti I ever had. It’s sooo good. The perfect mix of salty garlic and some sweet meatball sauce.”

“Sounds delicious.” Peter grinned. The whole time he focused on May’s face, never looking past her, never looking at the shadow he knew was Beck.

“Aww look at this, my two favorite boys here for a nice warm meal. This is so great.”

“Mhm.” Peter said, because it would be impossible to choke out words through his small airways. His lungs already felt tight, there was no need to push them by speaking.

“Okay, sit. I’ll bring out the salads.”

“Here let me help.” Peter yelled, rushing towards the counter, farthest away from Beck. 

“Aw thanks kiddo.”

Peter smiled and brought over the salads while May carried the giant bowl of spaghetti, presenting it in the center of the table like an offering. She flipped her brown hair over her shoulder and clapped quietly.

Her excitement was contagious, and Peter felt safe while he was in her presence. Whenever May was around, Beck wouldn’t touch him. But Beck had a way of convincing May to leave the apartment for a while.

Oh shit, I think I left my credit card back at my house. Can you pick it up for me? That way I can pay for our date.

You’re running out of paper towels, do you want me to go to the store and get some for you? Of course May tells him to stay here and she’ll go get the paper towels in the name of being polite. 

It was a never ending cycle, but Peter wasn’t going to let it happen tonight. He was going to keep May in this apartment if it killed him. 

“Any good?” May asked, looking over at Peter and then towards Beck.

“Oh it’s delicious.” He said, licking his lips. Peter stiffened at his voice, subconsciously leaning closer towards his aunt. 

“So how was school?”

“Uh, good.” Peter replied meekly. 

May nodded, shoveling a twirled fork of spaghetti into her mouth. She slurped the noodles and wiped her lips with a napkin, removing some of her red lipstick in the process. 

“So Quinten and I had a great day in the office.”

“That’s great.” Peter replied, “What happened that was so good?”

After some small talk, work and the weather and all things movies, May realized she forgot the drinks.

“I’ll be back in just a second.”

Peter jumped out of his seat to go with her.

“I got it, honey. Sit down.”

He took one look at Beck, then quickly shook his head.

“No. I want to help.” 

May frowned, but didn’t say anything else until she walked into the kitchen with him. Once they were out of earshot from Beck, she asked, “Is this because I threatened to take away your phone?” 

Peter paused in opening the refrigerator, letting his aunt continue.

“I want you to know, I only said that because you were getting detention every other day, and I just want you to stay on the right path, you know.”

He was the last one to arrive other than Flash. The group seemed irritated, constantly looking at their phones for the time.

“He’s late.” MJ muttered, leaning her chin against her knees.

“Maybe he’s not coming.” Ned suggested. 

“Why would he do that?” Liz asked with a shrill. She was counting on this day to make a lot of progress. In fact, she was trusting the Web Heads to help her with her entire campaign. It took a lot of faith to put such a project into their hands. 

“Maybe Flash is going to leave us stranded here so he can laugh at us tomorrow.” 

Before anyone could response, a loud obnoxious honking came from the parking lot. 

“Is that...?”

“Yeah. It’s him.” MJ mumbled. She stood up and slung her backpack over her shoulders.

“Hey losers! Get in.” He shouted while hanging his head out the window of his Dad’s luxury Audi. 

Peter couldn’t believe he was sitting in the passenger seat of Flash’s car, barreling down the street at 60 miles per hour. Peter’s hands gripped the seat nervously as he glanced over at MJ’s green face. She looked ready to puke.

“When is this going to end?” Ned asked as he fiddled in the backseat of the car, trying to clutch anything at all.

“I’m sitting in the front seat. How do you think I feel?” Peter shot back, thankful for the seat belt.

“Oh shut up, Parker. You don’t even have your license yet.” 

“Yeah, and apparently neither should you.”

Flash gave him a sideways glare and everyone screamed simultaneously for him to keep his eyes on the road.

“Okay! Okay!” Flash screamed, planting his eyes firmly on the road in front of him. “Relax. It’s not like I’ve never driven before.”

He slowed down slightly, and then immediately made a sharp right turn which screeched the brakes.

“Oh my God we’re all going to die.” Ned screamed, but then Flash turned around another corner and slammed on the brakes.

He leaned out the window of his car and punched in a code into a gated community.

“You live here?” Peter’s mouth dropped open without him realizing as his eyes were enraptured by the five story house positioned perfectly over a green garden.

The Audi rounded a fountain at the center and continued towards Victorian red brick house. There was like a hundred windows on that thing, Peter couldn’t believe it. 

“Wow Flash, what does your Dad do for a living?” Liz asked. “Because he should really talk to mine.”

“My father does business, but it’s mother who brings in most of our money. She works with scientists.”

“Oh. Doing what?”

Flash scoffed. “You think she tells me?”

They departed the vehicle and walked across the mansion-like stone until they were standing on Flash’s porch. He swung open the huge marble doors and led the Web Heads inside. 

“Cinzia, I’m home.” Flash shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. A woman entered the room in gossamer-grey cashmere and a cup of coffee in her hand.

“This is Cinzia. She’s my housekeeper.”

“Hola.” She greeted. “Encantado de conocerte. ¿Qué haces aquí?”

“She doesn’t speak any English, so I hardly understand a word of what she’s saying.”

Peter understood. Maybe it was all the Spanish lessons, or perhaps it was from talking to Mr. Delmar everyday, but Peter was getting better and better at his Spanish, even if Mr. Delmar teased him for his mistakes.

“Estamos trabajando en un proyecto.” Peter said slowly, trying to pronounce everything correctly. 

He could feel his peers eyes on him, and his cheeks heated. 

“Ah, ya veo. Maravilloso.” Cinzia exclaimed.

“What the hell did you say to her, Parker?”

“I just told her we’re working on a project and I think she said that’s wonderful.”

“When did you learn to speak Spanish?” Liz asked a smile playing on her lips.

“There’s this guy in the deli that I visit. He’s Spanish and well sometimes he talks to me and I guess he kinda taught me.”

“Jesus, do you live at that Deli?” Flash laughed. 

“I go there everyday.” Peter shot back, defensively. 

“Why?”

“Best Sandwiches in Queens,” both Peter and MJ said at the same time. 

“Why haven’t I heard about this?” Flash asked. 

“Cause you don’t ride the subway.” 

“Oh. It’s in one of those places.” 

Ned wrinkled his eyebrows, “What do you mean by that?”

“You know, a really poor place for poor people.”

Liz tapped his shoulder. “I think you should stop talking now.” She whispered. 

“Why? - Oh shit - Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Peter dismissed the issue quickly. He grew up in a poor neighborhood, he was used to the comments. “But Mr. Delmar really does have the best sandwiches in Queens so you’re missing out.”

Flash nodded. “I’ll have to try it sometime. You know, expand my horizons or whatever.”

“You should. I can take you sometime. If you want.” Peter suggested with a shrug.

“Mr. Thompson,” interjected Cinzia in a low voice, her finger pointing towards the doorway they just walked through. It was opening again, and this time a man in a suit and tie came waltzing inside.

“Oh no. Seriously? He’s never home and the one time I need him to be gone, he comes home.” 

The man in the suit, with ruddy cheeks and dark eyes, which had something cold and silvery about them, was Flash’s father. 

“Who the hell are they?” He asked.