The Web Heads

A torrential downpour of rain soaked Peter to the bone before he even had time to throw on his Spider-Man suit and swing across the street. At this point, he was shivering to death from the cold and he honestly had no idea what he was doing. 

Well literally, he was sticking to the brick wall of Tiny McKreever’s house, upside down, and peeking through his window like some kind of creepy stalker. But why was he doing that? Peter had to seriously ask himself why he felt so compelled to ditch school and follow Tiny all the way back to his house during an unrelenting thunderstorm. 

Because seriously why should he help this guy? Tiny almost attacked Ned at lunch today. He was a bully. Never once had he done anything nice for Peter or anyone else. In fact, the guy claimed to be Flash’s friend, yet he was threatening to kick him off the football team just an hour ago. 

So why was Peter suited in his Spider-Man spandex, rubbing his arms while his teeth chattered and watching Tiny enter his house? 

It’s because of what happened in the Principal’s office, Peter remembered through the fogging feeling in his brain. Something about Tiny’s reaction didn’t feel right. It’s like he was scared of Principal Morita telling his father what he had done. That type of fear wasn’t ‘oh my God, I’m going to lose my phone for the next week.’ No, that type of fear in his eyes was something more, something very familiar to Peter. He had seen it somewhere else... 

A light flashed in Tiny’s bedroom and Peter squinted. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Peter witnessed Tiny enter his bedroom with his father in tow. 

Mr. McKeever slammed the door shut behind them, and Peter’s breath caught in this throat. The situation was becoming all too déjà vu. 

“You mind telling me what the hell is wrong with you?” Peter could hear Mr. McKeever’s voice through the closed window, but he couldn’t hear Tiny’s meek response. 

“Failing school! Getting sent to the principal’s?! Are you trying to make me look bad?”

“No, but -“

Then, so viciously Peter didn’t have time to register it, Tiny’s Dad snapped the back of his hand across Tiny’s face, knocking him to the ground. Peter flinched hard from his spot outside the window. He was so disoriented he lost his footing and began to slide down the slippery wet wall. 

Quickly, Peter curled his fingers into the brick, and held on for dear life. He was just barely able to glance through the window now. But he saw it clear as day, the blank, emotionless expression Tiny wore. Almost as if the life was beaten out of his eyes. It was then that Peter remembered where he had seen that look before. His mind flashed to the very first night that Beck had hurt him. When he looked in the bathroom mirror, Peter had the exact same expression. He was almost unrecognizable to himself with those hollow eyes. 

Snapping out of his daze, Peter saw Mr. McKeever pull Tiny off the ground by the back of his shirt. 

“You pathetic excuse for a son.” He punched him in the face, fist flying backwards and forwards repeatedly, then he threw him to the ground and began kicking his ribs. 

After the shell-shock of what he was witnessing wore off, Peter sprung into action, bursting through the window, sending glass flying everywhere as he broke through. 

Alarmed at the noise, Mr. McKreever jumped backwards and Tiny curled into a ball in the middle of the floor. 

Peter’s heart was pounding and his head swam. He should have thought this through, but there was no time, and besides, right now he was Spider-Man not Peter. He had an edge. 

“What the hell?” Mr. McKreever muttered already regaining his focus after the initial shock. 

“It’s your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man here.” Peter said as he leaped forward and kicked McKreever in the back, slamming him against the closet door. “Please don’t be alarmed by the kicking, I’m still friendly, just impersonating you.”

He man flailed in his grip, his face repeatedly hitting the closet door every time Spider-Man delivered a swift kick to his back.  

“Ah, please! Please stop.” The man cried, and Peter could hear his own pleas’ from the other night. But Beck never stopped. Never ever stopped. So why should he? 

“What’s the matter? You don’t like being on the other end? I’m sure your son wanted you to stop a few minutes ago, but did you?”

“Please, you’re - you’re hurting me.” Peter could feel the other man’s shoulder start to pop out of it’s socket with just a little bit more pressure he should be able to snap -

“Stop!” Tiny roared. Immediately Peter released Mr. McKreever’s arm, turning his huge white goggled eyes onto Tiny, as if demanding an explanation. Mr. McKreever slumped to the floor, exhausted and in pain. 

“He’s still my father. I don’t want to see him hurt.” Tiny explained. 

Peter smelled the blood before he saw it, but when he turned to look at McKreever, he saw his nose was pouring and his shirt was dark with it. 

Tiny’s face was equally a mess: swollen eye and a crooked nose. 

This poor family.

“I need to get you home.” 

“I am home.”

Peter sighed. “I mean somewhere safe. Do you have anyone I can call? Aunts? Uncles? Grandparents?”

Tiny shook his head. “It’s just me and my Dad.”

“I’m going to take you to the hospital. They’ll know what to do.”

“They’ll call child services,” Tiny mumbled. “It’s happened a few times before. Please, I don’t want it to happen again.”

“Maybe... maybe you can stay with a friend for a little while.” Spider-man suggested. 

“I don’t have any friends.” The boy whispered dejectedly.

Peter’s frown deepened. “Hey, I’m sure that’s not true. There’s gotta be someone.”

“Well there is this kid... Flash... but I was a dick to him today.”

“It’s okay. You’d be surprised how forgiving friends can be. I think he’ll make an exception knowing the circumstances.”

Tiny grinned, exposing bloody teeth. “You really think so?”

Um... well, Peter wasn’t too sure about how far Flash had come to redeeming himself, but at least he was defending Liz in the cafeteria. That had to count for something. He was on the right path. So there was a good chance he would take Tiny in with welcomed arms. 

“I think it’s worth a shot. Now come on. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

“But, my Dad.”

“I’ll web him up and leave a note for the cops.”

“Is he going to be okay, Spider man?”

“I don’t know...” Peter admitted quietly. “But he needs help and I’m going to try to get him that, Tiny.”

“You know my name?”

“Uhhh, yeah.” Peter coughed. “I’m a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. It’s my job to know everyone in the neighborhood by name.”

“Wow, that’s sick, man.” 

Peter didn’t waste anymore time, he scooped Tiny around the waist and swung out the window. 

Despite Tiny’s whooping and cheering in his ear, along with a few hoots to ‘go faster,’ Peter had a good time taking Tiny to the hospital, and he definitely had a new found perspective on the bully. Since he was getting bullied at home, it’s no surprise that he bullied other kids at school. It’s still no excuse, though. Peter hoped Tiny would realize this someday. But for now, Tiny had suffered quite enough, he didn’t need a lecture on top. 

After dealing with Tiny’s father and the police, Spider-Man finally retired for the evening and Peter was never more grateful to be wearing his regular clothes again, even if they were soaked just like his suit. 

Quickly, he checked his watch to make sure he wasn’t too early. School just ended about ten-minutes ago, so Peter should be good to go home without any questions.

Or so he thought. 

“Where the hell have you been?” May screamed the second he opened his apartment door. Peter froze in place, a blush creeping up the back of his neck. The girl from apartment 3C was sitting in the hallway reading her favorite book, and Peter knew she had just heard him get chewed out. After a few moments of no movement, Peter stepped fully into the apartment and closed the door behind him. 

“I was at school.” He tried to keep his voice casual as he dripped water all over the floor. It’s almost as if he had showered with his clothes on. His hair wasn’t just damp, it was plastered tight to his skull, tiny streams running down his forehead, beside his ears, dripping off the tip of his nose. 

May wrinkled her face at his destroyed clothes. “Oh you were at school, huh? What were you doing? Swimming in pool with your clothes on?”

“Uh. No. It rained.”

“It rained forty-five minutes ago. So unless you were outside for class, then there is no reason you should have ran into any rain.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize you paid so much attention to the weather. Have you ever considered becoming one of those weather women on TV?” 

“Cut the bullshit.” May snapped, “I just got a call from your principal saying you ditched after landing yourself in his office. What’s with you getting a second detention this week? Huh? We talked about this, and you said you weren’t fighting.”

“I wasn’t fighting -“

May slapped her hand against the coffee table, “Don’t lie to me.” She shouted.

“Don’t yell at me.” He squeaked, recoiling at her tone. 

“Don’t yell at you? Well what the hell am I supposed to do, Peter? Say, ‘good job on getting that detention.’”

“No but - May that’s not fair.”

“Am I supposed to ignore it? Pretend it isn’t happening? Because that’s not gonna happen. I can’t ignore when you start getting into fights twenty-four-seven.”

“I’m not!” Peter cried. He couldn’t believe this. May wasn’t listening to him. She always listened to him. “I was just trying to break up the fight.”

“Oh so there was a fight? What’s that, your second lie of the evening? Third? Fourth? Because you told me you weren’t fighting and yet, now, you’re saying there was a fight.”

“I -“ Peter couldn’t complete his thoughts and bitterly slicked back his wet hair with a loud growl of frustration. 

“You what? Spit it out!”

“I can’t think when you’re yelling at me!”

“I haven’t had to punish you in a long time, Pete, but if you keep this up, I will. I’m not kidding. This isn’t okay.”

Peter stiffened. “Look,” he groaned, still trying to figure out how to explain everything, “In the cafeteria this kid was picking on this girl named Liz. Ned went over to stop it. He looked like he was about to be punched, so I tried to stop the fight that was occurring. That’s all. I wasn’t the one that was fighting, okay?” 

Sighing heavily, May removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay. Well from now on, stop trying to break-up fights. In fact, If you see a fight, you walk the other way, you understand me?”

“May -“

“No. I’m not doing this with you.” She yelled louder than the last time, “I’m not letting you go down the wrong path. We’ve always been able to talk to each other, but when you start lying to me... I have to pull the strict parent card. I’m sorry, I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it either, but what am I supposed to do when you start ditching school, getting detention, sneaking out of the house... I mean... what are you doing with your life, Peter? You’re really starting to scare me.” 

Peter’s eyes were growing three times in size. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Look, I won’t go anywhere near another fight at school again okay?”

May shook her head. “You still lied to me about where you were today. You can’t do that.”

“It technically wasn’t a lie... I was at school earlier today... I just sorta left.”

“Okay so where did you go when you left?” May placed her hands on her hips. 

Why did she have to ask that? Of all the questions she could have asked. Why couldn’t she have asked him something easier? 

What should he say? Where would he have gone if he wasn’t being Spider-Man? Come on, Peter, just pick a place.

Apparently his hesitation was enough of an answer for May. 

“That’s it. Give me your phone. I’m done.”

“What? May! I didn’t - I was thinking.”

“You shouldn’t have to think!” She shouted, slapping her hand. “Not if you’re going to be honest with me.”

Peter winced. Yeah, okay, he walked right into that one. As May approached him, and held out her hand, Peter couldn’t help feel an overwhelming amount of emotions. Devastation was number one on the list, followed by an intense amount of sadness. He couldn’t stand having Aunt May look at him with such disappointment. She was his rock. The only person who still gave him comfort when he needed it. And now she was mad at him. Good job, Peter. 

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and placed it into her hands. The second he did, he felt tears spring to his eyes, like a freaking baby. God, he was so embarrassing. Quickly Peter ducked his head, and wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his blue hoodie and began walking towards his bedroom. But May grabbed the hood of his wet hoodie, and tugged him towards her. 

“Hey?” She cupped his chin, trying to get him to look at her, but Peter pulled away, staring at the puddle of water forming on the floor. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. May gave him

a sympathetic sound, and gently guided him towards the couch, sitting him next to her, not caring that the couch was getting soaked.

“Peter, what’s going on with you?” May asked, wiping his tears with her thumb. 

He wanted so urgently to stop crying. But once he started, it was really hard for him to stop and seeing May show even an ounce of concern for him, made the tears stream even faster.

“I’m - I’m so- sorry.” His voice broke, and if May couldn’t tell he was crying before, she could certainly hear it in his voice.

“Peter, calm down.” May pulled him into a hug, and he clung to her, wanting so badly to tell her everything. Keeping all those secrets inside him were eating him alive. It’s like part of his brain couldn’t stop saying “tell her now, tell her now,” but the other part of him was screaming, “but you can’t, but you can’t.” The unrelenting thoughts were what upset him the most. 

“Peter stop.” May shifted closer to her nephew, her heart breaking as he flinched. “Hey, you’re okay.”

“I didn’t - I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know. I know.” May stroked the side of his cheek, pushing away the wet hair that fell into his face. 

Instinctively, Peter leaned in when he felt May’s hand lay in between his shoulder blades, rubbing his back soothingly. 

“Sorry.”

May grabbed his chin gently and tilted it so he was looking at her. “I’m not mad. I just don’t want you to keep things from me, okay?”

Peter nodded, trying not to burst throughly into tears. He had to keep things from her! It’s for her own good. 

May sighed and placed his phone back into his hand. “Keep it. I don’t want to take something that will keep you in contact with me. Besides, I like calling you at the most unoppurtune times and embarrassing you. It’s my job.”’

Peter snorted a wet laugh. “You’re the only one who still calls. Everyone else just texts.”

“That’s what makes me special.” May joked, running her hand up and down his spine.

“There are a lot of things that make you special, May.” The kid’s voice was dangerously wobbling again and May squeezed his hand. “I can’t - I can’t lose you.” 

“Oh Peter, you won’t lose me. Where is that coming from?”

“I just -“ he paused for a hiccup, “I have to be careful or else something bad might happen to you too. Just like with Uncle Ben.”

She tightened her hold on him. “Is that what this is about? Uncle Ben? We never really sat down a talked about what happened... I know you don’t like talking about it. So I thought maybe if we never mentioned it, maybe it would be easier to move on. But I can see now that I was wrong.”

“No, no, you were right. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“You need to know that what happened with your uncle wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could have done.”

Oh God if only she knew. If only she knew how much he could have done. Uncle Ben’s death was all his fault, and May’s death would be all his fault too if he lets Beck tell the world his secret. There’s no telling how many criminals would kidnap or torture her just to get back at Spider-Man. He had to be more careful than ever to protect her, even if May did hate him for lying. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered again. 

“For what?”

Everything 

“Nothing was your fault. Uncle Ben was in the wrong place at the wrong time and as much as it hurts -“

“No, I’m sorry for today. For lying. I don’t like doing it.” He said, trying to curve the conversation the best he could. 

“Good. I’m glad to hear you don’t like lying to me.” May chuckled. “And I don’t like playing the strict parenting card.” She shuddered.

The corner of his lips gave a small tug at her comment. “Let’s not do either of those things again.”

“I’m game of you’re game.”

Peter shook his head smiling, “Please stop, May.”

“What? I’m using this generations lingo. It’s cool, right?”

“No. It’s not cool at all.” He said while wiping the last of his tears away.  

“Coming from the boy who once told me chemistry sets are cool.”

“Hey, I stand by that. Chemistry sets are cool.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, getting up from the couch and tossing a pillow at him. “Go shower, you are going to catch pneumonia if you stay in those wet clothes any longer, and then you can start your homework.”

“May, you’re getting a little bossy in your old age.”

“And you’re getting a little smart-alecky for someone who was crying two minutes ago.”

“Ouch. That was a low blow.”

“Shower. Then homework.”

“Okay, okay.” 

They were back to as normal as they will ever be. Now it was up to Peter to keep it that way. No more detentions!