[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/552210662391021574/552663742244978689/spider2_edit.jpg[/img][/center]
[indent][b][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cno20onK9dY]SPIDER-MAN: THE DISTANCE[/url][/b][/indent]
[indent][b]Issue 9[/b][/indent]
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[indent][b]New York City, NY --- Queens[/b][/indent]
[hr]

Peter had begun to notice the smells of the Parker house once again. It was like old books and flower scented cleaning chemicals, the tiniest bits of sawdust trailing from the creaking stairs and the smell of plastics loved to death with sweat and use. The blindness to it was gone, somehow deactivated by the subtle grease of wheelchair wheels making slow tracks through the house and the smell of burning casserole rising into the air.

[color=#77ffff]“Oh! Peter!”[/color] May called as she pulled open the oven, swatting at the rising smoke with a mitt as the fire alarm began to trill, sharp and crisp. Peter pulled a stool across the floor, three legs dragged across the hardwood floor and Peter pushed himself up, pulling the alarm from its housing. He wrestled the batteries out. The sound went out of the room all at once, but for the creak of the wheelchair as Ben rolled himself into the room.

[color=#ff3b00]“Casserole today, May?”[/color] Ben raised an eyebrow as the corner of his mouth turned up.

[color=#77ffff]“I got this recipe from the internet…”[/color] May mumbled as she pulled the smoking remains from the oven, a crusty black thing shriveled up in the casserole dish. May placed it on the counter and folded her arms, content to let the last of the smoke froth.

[color=#507de5]“Well,”[/color] Peter said, [color=#507de5]“we’ve all seen A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.”[/color] There was a moment of silence then, but for the sound of the house settling and the rolling of distant tires. Ben cracked first, breaking into a belly laugh that immediately took in May and Peter. He wiped the tears from his eyes.

[color=#ff3b00]“Pizza, then?”[/color]

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Peter chewed his slice, and watched Ben across from him over the arc of his pizza crust. He felt a lift in his stomach and a tingle across his shoulders. He smiled.

[color=#ff3b00]“So, Pete, you figure we’ll find some way to rig up one of those wheelchair elevators?”[/color] Ben asked, pausing before the choice of plain cheese or mushroom-and-onion.

[color=#77ffff]“Another DIY project? Ben, the insurance said--”[/color] May began. Ben waved her off.

[color=#ff3b00]“No, no -- I’m sure Peter and I can figure this one out. Right bud?”[/color] He put his slices on his plate and reached for the parmesan cheese.

[color=#507de5]“Well, we’ll need to see what we can borrow from Mr. Stacy’s garage.”[/color] Peter smiled into his bite, taking a mouthful of cheese. He chewed, thinking through the parts.

[i]Some kind of elastic rope or track or something. Non-stick webbing would do the trick. Would suck to develop it and then have that full time, though…[/i] Peter looked up from his slice and met Ben’s eyes, staring back at him. Peter felt the ache in his shoulder again. It hadn’t burned like this since breaking into the lab a few days ago.

[color=#ff3b00]“Have you heard anything from Gwen, Peter?”[/color] Ben asked. Peter swallowed.

[color=#507de5]“About what?”[/color]

[color=#77ffff]“You haven’t been keeping up with the news, sweetheart?”[/color] May tilted her head.

[color=#507de5]“You know, May. Back to school.”[/color] Peter shrugged. The table creaked as he pushed his ceramic plate an inch forward. She shook her head.

[color=#77ffff]“That Spider-Man character has been making a tear through the city.” [/color]May pulled her rose lace jacket around herself. [color=#77ffff]“They just announced that he attacked the Police Station. And in this neighborhood, I…”[/color] May sighed.

[color=#ff3b00]“And to think he calls himself a superhero.”[/color] Ben crunched through his slice, crushing mushrooms and shredding onions with his teeth. Peter fished in his pocket for his phone.

[color=#77ffff]“They’re all so self-righteous.”[/color] May wiped her hands on a napkin. [color=#77ffff]“Their way or the highway with all of it.  Dreadful! And with what he did to that Mr. Morbius!”[/color]

[i]Damnit.[/i] Peter clutched his cellphone and squeezed.

[color=#ff3b00]“Now, that name does sound familiar…”[/color] Ben tapped his chin. He snapped his fingers. [color=#ff3b00]“Peter, didn’t he work at Doctor Connors’ lab with you and Gwen?”[/color]

[color=#507de5]“Yeah. Doc’s assistant. Mrs. Connors was telling Gwen and I what happened.”[/color] Peter brought his hand out of his pocket. [i]Hospitalized. Stable, conscious, but they still can’t figure out what the hell I tagged him with…[/i] He felt tension at the back of his head, muscles tightening. He lifted another slice. [i]Not like I know, either…[/i]

[color=#507de5]“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”[/color] Peter said through a mouthful.

[color=#77ffff]“Peter!”[/color] May looked at him.

[color=#507de5]“Sorry! Sorry. He’s just… I dunno.”[/color]  Peter rubbed at his wrist. In the days since, he still hadn’t been able to make the suit lance out like that. It worked better than his webs ever had -- but why did it stop?

[color=#ff3b00]“Innocent people.”[/color] Ben said. [color=#ff3b00]“Disgraceful.”[/color] Peter ripped at his slice with his teeth.

[color=#507de5]“You never know. Superheroes, people to save, things to do.”[/color]

[color=#ff3b00]“When was the last time he saved someone?”[/color] Ben was looking at him now, pools of brown like burnt gold locked onto his eyes.

[i]When I stopped the X-Men’s car from -- or when I catch Tombstone or…[/i] Peter breathed through his nose.

[color=#507de5]“I don’t know.”[/color]

[color=#ff3b00]“So reckless. Dangerous. Not like those X-kids. Putting their necks out there for those boys at Bayville, God help them.”[/color] Ben wiped the crumbs from his hands, they fell to his plate.

[color=#77ffff]“I don’t know if I trust any of them. People in masks. It doesn’t sit right with me.”[/color] May said.

[color=#507de5]“You’re starting to sound like Jameson, Aunt May.”[/color]

[color=#ff3b00]“Never agreed with the man, but… Well, maybe he’s onto something. If they can’t hold themselves accountable? Can’t take the responsibility that comes with what they can do…”[/color] Ben turned his hands up.

[color=#507de5]“Like Spider-Man doesn’t?”[/color] Peter cut back.

[color=#ff3b00]“I haven’t seen Supergirl fighting with the police. She doesn’t seem to need a mask for that, Pete.”[/color] Ben said evenly.

[color=#507de5]“Ben--”[/color] Peter’s muscles tensed. He felt lightning and pain at the back of his head. He pulled himself forward with his forearms, the table shook.

[color=#77ffff]“Peter Benjamin.”[/color] May said. Soft, but firm. Peter relented. He scooped his plate into one hand and pushed his seat back.

[color=#507de5]“I’ve got lots of homework to do.”[/color] He got to his feet and rounded the table, passing Ben and making for the second floor.

[color=#ff3b00]“It’s a Saturday, kiddo.”[/color] Ben craned his neck to track his nephew but stopped as Peter got behind him. He tried to twist himself in his wheelchair, bringing his left tire to be caught under the table.

[color=#77ffff]“And your Uncle just came back from--”[/color] May stood, reaching out to help her husband.

[color=#507de5]“And [i]I[/i] just got back to school. Need to catch up. Study, and stuff.”[/color] Peter took the stairs two at a time. His sneakers squeaked across the floorboards and he crossed to his room.

He heard their voices come from the first floor as he twisted his doorknob.

[color=#77ffff]“What’s gotten into him?”[/color]

[color=#ff3b00]“He’s a teenager, May. He’s just… Having a rough time of it.”[/color]

[color=#77ffff]“Should we--?”[/color]

[color=#ff3b00]“No, no. I’m sure he’ll figure it out. He’s a smart kid.”[/color]

[i]Figure it out, Ben?[/i] Peter pulled his phone from his pocket and held the power button as he clothes deformed and the black cloth of his suit began to bubble and rise around him. Silk against his skin. His phone hummed to life as the lenses closed around his eyes. [i]I’m gonna ‘figure out’ how to walk on eggshells in this goddamn…[/i] The phone buzzed in his hand.

[indent][b]Incoming Message from: OSBORN, HARRY[/b]

[i]Dude! R u seeing the news rn?[/i]

[b]Incoming Message from: WATSON, MJ; STACY, GWEN; and +1 More[/b]

[i]Are you guys okay??? @ home? Not in Manhattan??[/i][/indent]

Peter swiped the notifications aside and clicked on his news app. It flashed onto his cracked phone screen -- dozens of slapdash articles, most posted just minutes ago. Almost all with the same photo of a man with a spiked helm and huge shoulder plates, arms crossed, staring down at the camera with a twisted face.

[i]"New York Times: Metahuman Supremacy Front Threatens NYC (DEVELOPING)”

“CNN: Metahuman Terrorists Invade New York City With Super Bug (DEVELOPING)”

“Daily Bugle: Mutants Invade Manhattan, Mounting Casualties (DEVELOPING)”[/i]

The articles went on. There was a feed at the top of the page. Peter was already halfway to the window as he clicked on it. The footage was grainy, but stable, supported. A reporter with a flat top of orange hair stood in the middle of West 57th street. Most of the cars around him were abandoned, some smoldered in the sunlight. He stared straight ahead, clutching his mic close. Peter though he saw a body in the background. Limp, with its arms and legs at odd angles to the torso.

“This is Eddie Brock, reporting with *ktsch* on the scene at *ktsch* where civilians are --” The camera twisted and shuddered as the reporter spoke. It tipped over and skittered across the ground like a dying roach.

“Jack? You good?” Peter saw the Brock’s feet taking slow steps backward as he spoke to his cameraman. Another pair of feet entered, settling into a staggered run.

“[i]Fucking--![/i]” The video cut at the last second. 

[i]I might need a little backup…[/i] He tapped out of the news app and pushed off from the window, sending out his first webline. He tapped the phone icon and started to dial.

[color=#507de5]“Hey, Eye-guy? I don’t wanna be that friend that only calls when he needs help or whatever, but, uh, well, you might wanna turn on a TV.”[/color]