[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/XV1PIyT.jpg?2[/img][/center]

I sit in the dark, a ziploc bag of ice sitting on my bruised ribs and tender back, reciting in my head what I'm going to say to Dad when he walks through that door. No matter what I play in my head, nothing sounds even remotely close to what Captain George Stacy will buy as a good reason why I'm doing what I'm doing. He's been through so much the past few years. First he lost Mom, and now his only child is running around in a mask fighting super-powered gangbangers. I can't imagine how afraid he is. I can't imagine how worried he is. Hell, he might not even believe I even made it home, the way the city is tonight.

[color=ec008c]"Good job, Stacy,"[/color] I say to myself, sinking further into the couch, the only illumination comes from a streetlight filtering through the blinds hanging over the living room windows. [color=ec008c]"You've probably broken one of the most badass cops in New York freakin' City. Real quality super heroics. It's no wonder he was going to shoot you."[/color]

Tonight definitely did not go the way I was hoping it would. In my mind I saw myself as the conquering hero, heading in and wiping out the Silk Cartel in one fell swoop. Instead I got the crapped kicked out of me by an opponent that had some serious combat chops. I mean, it didn't help that the guy was on some weird, mutanigenic stuff that turned him green and super strong. Still, I've dealt with super powered villains before. The Black Tarantula's fighting ability is what took me out of the game, and had me close to death.

[color=7bcdc8]"What the hell are you thinking?"[/color] My Dad's voice rouses me from my thoughts. I'm so in my own head that I don't hear him come through the door and close it behind him. 

He looks broken. His shoulders are slumped, something I don't think I've ever seen before. His hair is disheveled. Even his mustache looks like it's out of wack. I've literally never seen him like this before. Sure there have been times when he had a long night at work or a long night at the hospital with mom, but he's never looked defeated like this.

[color=7bcdc8]"Did you hear me?"[/color] he looks up from his shoes, showing his tired eyes. [color=7bcdc8]"What the hell are you thinking."[/color]

My mind races over the reasons I played in my mind mere moments ago. But none of them come out of my mouth. Instead, I finally say, [color=ec008c]"What I said on the roof of the hospital still stands, Dad. This is who I am. I was given these great powers. And like I said, Uncle Ben always told us 'With great power, comes great responsibility'. I know he said that to us, and I know he said it to you too on more than one occasion. I can't sit around and watch when I can do these things."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"So just because you turned into this, you think you need to put your life on the line?"[/color] I can tell he's holding back tears. [color=7bcdc8]"You take the law into your own hands? I taught you better than that."[/color]

[color=ec008c]"Dad,"[/color] I stand, wincing from the pain, [color=ec008c]"I know you did. But what happens if I don't fight people like Black Tarantula and he takes down a helicopter like he did tonight? Those three men die if I'm not there."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"What if you create people like him!?"[/color] he yells at me, clearly losing his composure. [color=7bcdc8]"What if he only became what he was because he needed to take out a superhero? What happens when more people like him show up in New York because you draw them out?"[/color]

[color=ec008c]"Are you kidding me, Dad!?"[/color] I go into my phone and beginning streaming videos to the TV. Superman catches a bus. The Flash streaks through the streets of Central City. The man known as Thor controls the thunder. [color=ec008c]"Look at all this! Look at it! These people are going to show up no matter what. What do you want me to do when that happens? Sit on the sidelines? Watch people die when I know I could have saved them? Do you know how selfish that is? Because I do. I was selfish when I first got these powers."[/color]

Tears start streaming down my face as I speak to him, baring my soul as I haven't done to anyone since all this started, [color=ec008c]"I saw one of the banks we went to for money for Mom's procedure being robbed. I could see one of the bankers that rejected us cowering in fear as a gun was waved in his face. I could have stopped it. Instead, I gave into my desire for revenge. I gave into selfish desires. I stood by and watched as the bank robber escaped. A cop came across him, and a chase started. The bank robber carjacked someone to try and escape. You know who that person was?"[/color]

Of course he does. But he says nothing. His body wavers as he seems like he's going to collapse. But all he does is shake his head.

[color=ec008c]"It was Uncle Ben, Dad,"[/color] I half say/half cry. I quickly dissolve into a blubbering mess, telling him the secret absolutely no one outside of I know. [color=ec008c]"Uncle Ben died because I sat around. Uncle Ben died because I didn't use the gifts I was given. That's why I can never do that again. That's why I'm never going to stop being Spider-Woman. You can yell. You can ground me. Hell, you can send me to military school or something. But where ever I am, I am going to be out on those streets, where ever they are, protecting people. My conscience can't take another innocent person dying because I was thinking of myself."[/color]

He doesn't say anything or move for a good, long while. After a few moments, he stumbles to the kitchen, pulls a bottle of scotch and two glasses out of a cabinet and pours himself two fingers worth. He slides a chair out from under the table, the legs grinding over the tile. He flops down into it and takes a gulp of the liquor. He kicks another chair out from under the table, refills his glass as well as the other, and motions for me to sit down. When I do, he pushes the second glass my way and nods, indicating I should pick it up.

[color=ec008c]"Seriously?"[/color] I look at him in amazement.

[color=7bcdc8]"Just take it, will you,"[/color] he rolls his eyes, his demeanor finally breaking. [color=7bcdc8]"After that. After tonight. We both need a drink."[/color]

I swirl the amber liquid in its glass, the strong aroma stinging my nose slightly. I take a timid sip, the smokey, earthy flavor overpowering my senses. I'm sure I make a slight face, and my dad chuckles a little bit, and so do I.

[color=7bcdc8]"Yea, well, I didn't like it much at first either,"[/color] he shrugs and takes a sip. [color=7bcdc8]"Does Peter know?"[/color]

[color=ec008c]"About the powers? Yes. He made the suit, the web shooters, everything. About Uncle Ben? No. I haven't had the heart to tell him yet."[/color]

He nods as I take a sip, warming to the idea of whiskey already, [color=7bcdc8]"I can't imagine what you've been feeling with that. I'm not going to judge you. Every cop has had one of those moments. A mistake. A selfish moment. A walk over the line. If they can atone for that, if they can accept responsibility, it means it will never happen again. I had one of those moments. When I was a rookie. A guy held up in his house with his wife and son. Said he was gonna kill them. I was the first on the scene. Tried to talk him down. Couldn't do it. Sometimes I wonder what I could have done to fix it."[/color]

Swirling the glass again, I look up at him, [color=ec008c]"You never told me that."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"Never thought you were ready,"[/color] he admits and finishes his second glass. [color=7bcdc8]"But now I know you are. Just like I know, deep down, you do have to be Spider-Woman. And I guess I have to help you with that."[/color]

[color=ec008c]"How are you gonna help?"[/color] my eyebrows raise at him.

[color=7bcdc8]"Well first, we need to find someone to teach you how to fight,"[/color] he looks at me with a hint of disappointment. [color=7bcdc8]"From what I saw you don't know how to throw a punch."[/color]

[color=ec008c]"Well, to be fair, I usually am stronger than the people I fight,"[/color] I put my hands up. [color=ec008c]"But I was actually thinking the same thing."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"And then I'm gonna help you find out who make Black Tarantula into that...thing."[/color]

Standing and finishing my drink, I throw my arms around my father, giving him a bear hug, [color=ec008c]"I know you're worried. I don't blame you. I promise I'll be careful. Well, as careful as I can be. I love you."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"I love you too, sweetheart."[/color]

[center]**********[/center]

[b]Weeks Later[/b]

The bell rings and I slam my locker shut. From behind, I'm bumped by Liz Allen, who giggles bitchily. I turn to see the raven-haired she-bitch walking arm-in-arm with Flash Thompson, star quarterback and mega doofus. The two have tried their best to make my friends and my lives a living hell. Sometimes, back in the day, they managed to do just that. But hey, I have super powers now.

[color=0054a6]"I think you need to bench press Flash over your head,"[/color] Peter says as he comes up next to me. [color=0054a6]"Then they'll definitely leave us alone."[/color]

[color=ec008c]"Yea, then I'll have supervillains interrupting lunch. Can't have that."[/color]

[color=0054a6]"Good point,"[/color] he concedes.

Since the incident with the Black Tarantula, my life has not calmed down. It make things a lot easier now that Dad knows, of course. I don't have to sneak in and out of the house to go on patrol. Of course, that was replaced by homework. Having to fit that in along with the expanding gang war across the city has been really, really fun. 

If I had any thoughts that thing would get a bit easier with the Tarantula off the board, I have quickly been proven wrong. Without him and the Maggia leadership, things have become even more hectic. Now I have scores of people trying to carve their own piece of the pie, rather than the few I had before.

Still, I think things are starting to look up.

"I hope everyone did the reading!" my teacher says happily. "Because we're going to have a pop quiz."

Of course.