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Being Spider-Man is a Sacrifice Chapter 14 - Never on Time


Peter was staring at the detective board Jessica had put up, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the clues. Suddenly, he felt a buzz in his pocket. Reaching into the small, skin-tight pocket of his suit, he pulled out his phone, which was cracked and damaged.


"Ah crap," Peter muttered as he saw the time, realizing he was almost late for his job.


Jessica noticed his expression. "What's wrong?"


"I'm gonna be late for work," Peter replied, limping towards the door.


Jessica frowned and grabbed his arm. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you disappear on me again," she said, launching into a mini-rant. "Do you know how long it took me to catch up with you? I don't even know where you live, and you're injured. You shouldn't be moving around too much."


Peter chuckled lightly, placing both hands on Jessica's cheeks. "I'll give you the address of where I'm staying, but I can't afford to miss this. I've already been late five times."


"Five times?" Jessica raised an eyebrow. "You're really pushing it."


"Jess, I'm sorry I avoided you. I won't do it again," Peter said, grabbing his mask from the table.


"What about your aunt and uncle?" Jessica asked.


Peter flinched, giving her a sad smile before putting his mask on. He shot two webs to the sides of a large square window near the ceiling and catapulted out.


"Asshole," Jessica whispered.


...


Peter shot a web and launched himself into the air, the familiar rush of wind hitting his face. He tucked into a tight somersault before extending his legs, catching a ledge with perfect precision. As he propelled himself forward, he swung wide, angling his body to slip through a narrow gap between two skyscrapers. Each swing built momentum, his trajectory a blur of fluid motion.


Flipping over a rooftop, he landed in a roll, using the momentum to vault off an air conditioning unit. Another web shot out, attaching to a distant crane, and he zipped across a construction site. His feet barely touched the steel beams as he leapt from one to the next, his body a constant blur of motion.


He swung low over a busy street, his Spider-Sense tingling again. Below, a car sped through a red light, heading straight for two kids. Peter dropped from his web, his heart pounding in his ears. He snatched the kids up mid-air, swinging them to the safety of the sidewalk in one smooth motion. "Stay out of the street, kids! Unless you're immune to cars!" he breathed heavily, giving them a quick salute before resuming his path.


"Why does saving the day always make me late?" he muttered, shooting another web and catapulting himself forward.


Swinging through the concrete jungle, he aimed for a billboard, flipping off its edge to gain height. He spiralled through the air, landing with cat-like grace on a narrow ledge. Using his momentum, he launched himself into a backflip, firing twin webs that pulled him through the air in a wide arc.


He sped past a fire escape, reaching out to grab the railing. Using it as a pivot point, he swung around and launched himself across an alley, his feet skimming the brick walls on either side. Landing in a crouch, he sprinted up the side of a building, his fingertips finding purchase on the smallest of ledges.


"Gotta move, gotta move," he murmured to himself, pushing through the fatigue.


As he swung around a corner, he spotted a mugging in progress. A thug had a woman pinned against a wall, her purse clutched in his greedy hands. Peter dropped in, delivering a swift kick to the mugger's side, sending him sprawling. "Crime doesn't pay buddy, but it doesn't give you free room and board," he joked, webbing the crook to the wall and giving the woman her purse back. "Stay safe, ma'am!" he called, swinging away before she could even thank him.


Peter soared between buildings, using every surface to his advantage. He ricocheted off a glass window, flipping backwards to avoid a flock of pigeons, then landed on a streetlight, balancing on one hand before shooting a web to a passing bus. Hitching a ride, he perched on top of the bus for a moment, catching his breath.


"Almost there. Just a few more blocks," he said to himself, glancing at his phone. Pushing through the pain he swung off the bus and into the air, his body twisting gracefully as he navigated the urban landscape. He dove through a narrow alley, his feet barely touching the ground as he sprinted up the side of a building, then launched himself into a wide arc that took him over a bustling market.


"Gonna be so dead if I'm late again," he muttered, flipping mid-air and firing another web.


Finally, he swung onto the rooftop of the pawnshop, rolling to a stop and ripping off his mask. He glanced at his phone one last time and sighed. "Made it. Barely." He said as he immediately headed towards a duffel bag he'd stashed earlier. Unzipping it, he pulled out a pair of jeans and a faded hoodie. He peeled off his Spider-Man suit, wincing slightly as the fabric tugged at his burns and scrapes.


"Man, I really need to invest in a better suit," he muttered to himself, stuffing the damaged costume into the bag and slipping into his casual clothes. However, he felt a tug of pain in his heart as he considered getting a better suit. 'It may not be the safest... but Gwen made it... that's enough,' he thought with a small smile.


He took out his phone, squinting at the cracked screen. His heart sank when he noticed the time displayed on it.


"Ah, crap!" he cried out. "It's been broken this whole time!"


Quickly securing the bag back in its hiding spot, Peter dashed to the edge of the roof. He flipped off the edge, grabbed onto the fire escape and slid down the retractable ladder to the ground below.


"I'm dead," he muttered to himself, already envisioning the scolding he'd get for being late again. Peter slipped in through the back door, trying to keep his steps light. He moved cautiously through the dimly lit storage area, hoping to blend into the shadows. Just as he reached for the door to the main shop, a voice stopped him cold.


"You're late."


Peter turned slowly, plastering a sheepish smile on his face. Standing there, arms crossed, was Mr. Green. He was a tall, wiry man with glasses that seemed perpetually on the verge of falling off his nose. His brown hair was peppered with grey, he looked the vision of a tired scientist, which was pretty strange considering his job.


"Uh, hey, Mr. Green. I'm really sorry, it won't happen again."


Mr Green sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Peter, this is the sixth time this month. I need reliability, not excuses."


Peter nodded earnestly. "I know, and I promise I'll do better. It's just—"


Mr. Green held up a hand to stop him. "Save it. Just get to work. You're a good kid, Peter, but you need to understand that jobs like this don't come easy."


Peter's shoulders slumped in relief as Mr. Green turned away, already heading back to the front of the store. "Thanks, Mr. Green. I won't let you down."


Mr. Green paused and glanced back. "See that you don't," he said, before disappearing into the shop, leaving Peter to quickly get to his tasks. Peter began his shift by making sure everything in the front of the house was in working order. He moved from shelf to shelf, checking the displays, ensuring the lights were functioning, and that the electronics were neatly organized. His hands worked automatically, allowing his mind to wander.


Mr. Green was strange. Peter wasn't an idiot; he could see the man was way too intelligent to be working in a place like this, even if he was the owner. Peter straightened a row of headphones and glanced towards Mr Green's private office. There was always something off about it, a smell he couldn't quite place. It was a mix of chemicals and something else he couldn't identify. He adjusted the volume knobs on a row of speakers and thought back to an incident a few weeks ago. Mr Green had spilt scorching hot coffee on his hand. For a split second, Peter's Spider-Sense had gone crazy, an intense warning flaring up before it vanished just as quickly. Mr. Green had merely wiped his hand off and continued working, not even flinching. That wasn't normal.


Peter picked up a tablet, cleaned its screen, and placed it back on the display. Despite the oddities, Mr. Green seemed nice enough. He had been willing to hire Peter even though he was young and didn't have much experience. It wasn't easy to find a job at his age, and Peter was grateful for the opportunity. He knew Mr. Green was cutting him some slack with his frequent lateness so he wouldn't pry into his private affairs. Once he was satisfied with the front, he headed to the back where all the broken electronics and various other items were stored. He was allowed to fiddle with everything back here as much as he wanted and Mr Green even paid him for everything he fixed, but right now Peter was more concerned about something else.


He took a seat on a worn-out chair, surrounded by a cluster of gadgets, wires, and spare parts. Peter's thoughts drifted to his web shooters. They were functional but limited. While he had managed to create a potent chemical composition for the web fluid, he didn't have access to a lab to make significant improvements.


'All you need to do is go back to Jessica.' the intrusive thought popped into his mind.


Peter shook his head, trying to dispel the distraction. He disconnected the web shooters from his wrists and laid them out on the table. He started to brainstorm potential alterations. He needed a way to switch the delivery method of the webbing, making it possible to alter the thickness and add other functions he had in mind.


Peter went through a few ideas and discarded them quickly. He eventually decided on a mechanical wheel that could adjust the web shooter settings. He began breaking down various pieces of equipment, gathering the parts he needed. He worked methodically, removing screws, extracting useful components, and assembling them into his web shooters.


He tested the new wheel mechanism, ensuring it could smoothly switch between different settings. Peter adjusted the wiring, added a few extra nozzles, and integrated the mechanical wheel into the web shooters. He was careful and precise, making sure everything fit perfectly. After altering the web-shooters, Peter realized he needed to be ready for the next encounter with Taskmaster. He grabbed various electronics from the shelves and began breaking them down, sorting through the components for useful parts. He worked quickly, assembling a few small tracking devices from the salvaged pieces.


As he finished the last tracker, Peter slammed his head against the table. His phone was broken, leaving him with nothing to link the trackers to. Frustrated, he thought about his options.


"Maybe MJ will let me borrow her phone," he muttered to himself.


...


Peter finished up at work, feeling both mentally and physically exhausted. As he locked up the back room, he asked himself, "How many days has it been since I slept?"


He shrugged, remembering the brief nap earlier thanks to Jessica knocking him out. "That counts, right?"


Peter stepped outside, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. He then jumped up, grabbing the first level of the fire escape and pulling himself up with ease. Flipping onto the roof, he rubbed his eyes and yawned.


He changed into his Spider-Man costume, rolling his shoulders to loosen up. Ready to head home, he jumped up, shot a web, and slung himself across the sky. Peter swung through the city, his body aching with exhaustion and injuries. He wished he could stay and patrol, but he knew he was nearing his limit. Rest was now no longer a suggestion.


Feeling a buzz in his pocket, Peter flipped midair, taking his phone out. He had fixed it at work earlier, a relatively easy task with the tools available. While swinging, he glanced at the text from MJ asking where he was.


'On my way back now,' he typed while falling, shooting a web to keep his momentum.


Suddenly, an explosion echoed in the distance. Peter sighed, "Damn... I need some coffee." He twisted his body, shot two webs, and catapulted himself toward the explosion, pushing through his fatigue.


...


MJ walked through town with a bag of groceries in her hand, she wanted to make something nicer than the usual fare for dinner. Peter had been working himself to the bone, and she wanted to surprise him with a special meal. Navigating Midtown at this time of day, when everyone was getting out of work, was a hassle. She quickly pulled out her phone and messaged Peter, asking where he was. He replied that he was on his way back now.


"Shit," MJ muttered, realizing that Peter would make it back long before she did. Nonetheless, she sped up, trying to get home as quickly as possible. However, something caught her attention as she looked over to a large junction in the road. A child, a little boy maybe eight or ten years old, stood there. MJ noticed he was wearing a patient gown, likely from a nearby hospital. The boy was weeping, his tear-streaked face turned up to the sky as he cried.


More and more people began to take notice. One person even approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder and asking what was wrong. But the person quickly drew back, wincing as if burned. The boy screamed at the contact, his panic evident as he backed away, whipping his head around and becoming more paranoid at the stares.


"Oh my God," MJ thought, her heart pounding. The boy stumbled into the middle of the junction, oblivious to the traffic. She saw a car barreling towards him, and time seemed to slow. The boy screamed and instinctively covered himself, and then it happened—a large eruption of flames burst from his body, causing a huge explosion that engulfed multiple cars in the crossfire.


People screamed and ran in all directions, desperate to escape the flames. MJ found herself being jostled and pushed by the fleeing crowd. She fought to keep her footing, clutching the bag of groceries to her chest. 'I have to help him,' she thought, her mind racing. The heat from the flames was intense, and she felt the sting of singed hair and clothes as she tried to avoid the worst of it.


The boy's powers were clearly out of control. Each time someone got close, another burst of flames shot out, causing more panic. MJ's heart ached for the terrified child, but she knew she couldn't get close without risking her own life.


She stumbled as someone pushed past her, almost falling to the ground. The crowd was frenzied, and she had to fight not to get trampled. She glanced back at the boy, who was now on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably as the flames around him grew fiercer. MJ dropped off the groceries. 'I have to do something,' she thought. She ducked behind a nearby car as another eruption of flames shot out, narrowly avoiding getting burned. She took a deep breath and made her way towards the boy, staying low and using the cars for cover.


"Hey! It's okay!" she shouted, trying to get the boy's attention. "I'm here to help you!"


The boy's terrified eyes met hers, and for a moment, she thought he might listen. But then another wave of flames burst from his body, forcing her to duck behind cover again.


"Damn it," MJ cursed, feeling the heat singe the back of her neck. She peeked out from behind the car. "Please, listen to me! You need to calm down! I'm here to help!"


The boy's sobs intensified, and MJ could see the fear and pain in his eyes. "I...I can't stop it!" he cried out, his voice breaking.


"You can! Just focus on me, okay? Focus on my voice!" MJ shouted, trying to sound as calm and reassuring as possible. "You're going to be okay. We're going to get through this."


She inched closer, dodging another burst of flames. The boy's panic seemed to lessen slightly as he focused on her, but the flames were still dangerously out of control.


"Just keep looking at me," MJ said, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her. "We're going to get through this together." MJ took a cautious step closer to the boy, her voice gentle as she tried to calm him down. "Hey, it's okay," she said, her tone soothing. "What's your name?"


The boy looked at her, his eyes wide with fear. "E-Ethan," he stammered, his voice trembling. The flames around him flickered and shrank slightly.


"Hi, Ethan. I'm MJ," she continued, keeping her voice steady. "Can you tell me what happened? How did you end up here?"


Ethan sniffled, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I was...I was in a white room," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There were other kids too, and...and they did things to us. I got out, but now I can't control it."


MJ's heart broke for the boy. "You're doing great, Ethan. Just keep talking to me, okay?" she said, inching closer. "Where was this white room?"


Before Ethan could answer, the blare of sirens filled the air. MJ's eyes widened in alarm as police cars screeched to a halt nearby, and officers exited their vehicles with guns drawn.


"Wait!" MJ screamed, her voice desperate. "He's just a kid!"


But the officers were visibly nervous, their hands shaking as they aimed their weapons at Ethan. The damage he had already caused made them wary, and their fingers hovered too close to their triggers.


Ethan's eyes darted around in terror, his body trembling. "No, no, no," he muttered, the flames around him growing hotter and more intense.


"Please, just wait!" MJ begged, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. One of the officers, his nerves getting the best of him, fired a shot. The bullet struck the concrete near Ethan's feet, and the boy screamed in fear.


A massive eruption of flames burst from Ethan's body, and MJ instinctively covered herself, expecting the worst. But instead of being engulfed in flames, she felt herself being yanked into the air by a strong force.


She looked up to see a web attached to her, pulling her away from the danger. Peter swung down, catching her in his arms mid-air. "We really need to stop meeting like this," he quipped, his voice strained but trying to sound light-hearted.


MJ clung to him, her heart racing. "Peter, he's just a kid! You have to help him!" she said urgently.


"I know, I know," Peter replied, shooting another web to swing them away from the immediate danger. He landed on a nearby rooftop and set MJ down gently. "Stay here. I'll handle this."


Peter didn't wait for a response. He leapt off the rooftop, swinging back towards the chaos below. Ethan was still in the middle of the street, the flames around him now raging out of control. The police were struggling to keep their distance, unsure of how to handle the situation.


Peter landed softly on the ground, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "Ethan, hey buddy, it's okay. I'm here to help," he called out.


Ethan looked at him, the fear in his eyes mingling with a glimmer of hope. "I can't stop it," he cried, his voice breaking.


"You can," Peter said firmly, taking a step closer. "Just focus on my voice. I'm Spider-Man, and I'm here to help you. We can get through this together."


Ethan's flames flickered, the intensity wavering as he focused on Peter. "They're scared of me," he said, his voice small.


"They're just scared because they don't understand," Peter replied, inching closer. "But I understand. I know you're scared too, but you're not alone."


Peter's spider-sense flared, time seemingly slowing as he saw a cop aim his gun at Ethan. The cop's small smile twisted into something sinister just as his finger tightened on the trigger. "No!" Peter shouted, pushing off the car with all his strength, trying desperately to get Ethan out of the way.


But it was too late. The bullet struck Ethan in the shoulder. He screamed in agony, his cry morphing into an inferno that erupted from his body. The force of the explosion sent Peter hurtling through the air, slamming him across multiple cars. Pain shot through his body as he landed, struggling to regain his breath.


Peter watched in horror as Ethan lost control, his flames consuming everything around him. The boy's powers went wild, fiery tendrils lashing out and incinerating anything in their path. Peter scrambled to his feet, his mind racing. He couldn't let anyone else get hurt. He immediately leapt into action, running and jumping to snatch people out of harm's way.


He grabbed a man who was frozen in shock, swinging him to safety before launching back into the fray. As he landed, he saw a car hurtling through the air, propelled by Ethan's uncontrolled flames. Peter shot a web at the vehicle, yanking it down before it could crush a family huddled on the sidewalk. With a swift, acrobatic move, he propelled himself toward another cluster of panicked civilians. Peter landed amidst a crowd trying to flee, scooping up a child and swinging her to safety on a nearby fire escape. As he descended, he saw a woman pinned under a car door, flames creeping dangerously close. He fired a web at the door, lifting it and tossing it aside before pulling the woman to her feet and ushering her toward safety.


Dodging a torrent of flames Peter spotted another car, this one careening towards a group of people trapped in the chaos. He intercepted it mid-flight, using his momentum to redirect it into a deserted alley. Without pausing, he somersaulted through the air, landing just in time to shield an elderly man from a sudden burst of flames with his own body, taking the brunt of the heat as he propelled them both to safety. He felt his skin sizzle his enhanced durability doing little to save him from being burned. 


He turned, heart pounding, and saw another wall of fire racing toward a young couple. Peter's reflexes kicked in, and he shot a web at a nearby lamp post, using it to swing in and scoop them up just as the flames roared past. He dropped them off at a safer spot catching a piece of debris before it could hit them. A car door flew through the air, narrowly missing a mother and her child. Peter acted without thinking, webbing the door and slamming it into the concrete to create a makeshift shield. He landed in front of them, deflecting a stream of flames with the door before grabbing them both and throwing them into the alleyway while shooting a web to catch them. The searing heat singed his suit, but he ignored the pain.


Peter wasn't sure what to do. Ethan was just a kid, and the thought of hurting him made Peter hesitate. But if he didn't act fast, more people would get hurt. Gritting his teeth, he decided to try and subdue Ethan without causing him harm.


Peter fired webs at Ethan, hoping to restrain him, but the intense heat from Ethan's flames incinerated the webs before they could even reach his body. Peter ducked and weaved, narrowly avoiding the deadly blasts of fire and the debris being hurled by the out-of-control flames. A burning car careened past him, and he leapt over it, landing in a crouch on the other side.


In a split second, Peter's eyes caught sight of an open fire hydrant gushing water onto the street. An idea sparked in his mind. He sprinted towards the hydrant, dodging another burst of flames and rolling to avoid a flying chunk of metal from a shattered car. As he neared the hydrant, he fired a web at a nearby sewer grate, yanking it free and grabbing it as he flipped through the air.


Peter positioned the grate in front of the hydrant, directing the powerful stream of water towards Ethan. The water hit the boy, creating a massive cloud of steam as it made contact with his flames. The force of the water pushed Ethan back, causing him to stumble and momentarily disrupting his fiery rampage. Peter braced himself as the steam explosion billowed out, engulfing the area in a thick, hot fog.


Peter rushed forward through the fog, his heart pounding in his chest. The steam still hissed and swirled around him, making visibility nearly impossible. But he could make out Ethan's small figure stumbling in the chaos. Peter landed next to the boy, his movements swift and precise despite the pain radiating through his body. He gave Ethan a gentle but firm knock on the head, causing him to collapse unconscious. Breathing a sigh of relief, Peter reached down to scoop him up.


Just as his fingers brushed against Ethan, his spider senses blared like an alarm, and he heard a police officer's voice cut through the haze, "Open fire!"


"No!" Peter shouted, his voice desperate and filled with anguish. He grabbed Ethan, trying to shield the boy with his own body as bullets ripped through the fog. The gunfire came from all directions, and avoiding it while protecting Ethan proved to be impossible. Peter felt the searing pain as bullets impacted his body. He grimaced, muscles straining as he pushed off the ground and zipped across to one of the nearby buildings.


He landed heavily on the rooftop, grunting in pain as he cradled Ethan in his arms. "Don't worry, buddy, we made it," Peter said, his voice shaky and pained. But as his eyes adjusted and focused on Ethan, he felt his heart shatter. A head wound. Blood was streaming from a hole in Ethan's temple. One of the officers had managed to shoot him in the head.


Peter laid Ethan on the ground, his hands trembling. His fists clenched, and tears began to blur his vision. The sounds of the cops invading the building, their heavy footsteps echoing up the stairs, filled the air. "I'm sorry...," Peter whispered, the words choked with emotion, all he could say before leaping off the building.


He landed on the adjacent rooftop where he had left MJ. Her eyes widened with hope as she saw him, but her expression quickly changed as she noticed his silence. "Is Ethan okay?" she asked, her voice trembling.


Peter's silence was more than enough of an answer. MJ cupped her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks as she began to cry. Peter lifted her gently, holding her close, and jumped off the building, swinging them both back to their home.


...


A cop stood on the roof, watching as the crime scene was established around the lifeless body of the boy. The night was thick with tension, the air heavy with the scent of smoke and ash. The officer's phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the grim silence. He answered it immediately.


"Is it dealt with?" a cold voice on the other end asked.


"Yes sir, the subject's been neutralized," the officer replied, his gaze fixed on the small, broken figure on the rooftop.


"Were there any issues?" the voice inquired.


"Spider-Man got involved. He almost got away with the subject," the officer stated.


"Troubling... Spider-Man is currently being dealt with. Make sure the subject's body doesn't make it to the station," the voice commanded, leaving no room for argument.


"On it," the officer said as he hung up. He watched as the paramedics carefully placed the boy's body on a gurney.


———————————————————-


Peter stood in his dirty, decrepit bathroom, staring at his reflection in the grimy mirror. He grunted in pain as he used tweezers to pull out the bullets lodged in his flesh. Each extraction sent waves of agony through his body, but he remained focused, dropping the blood-smeared bullets into the sink. His grip tightened around the ceramic basin, and before he knew it, he had cracked it, bringing him out of his grim thoughts.


Stepping into the shower, he winced as the cold water hit his skin. Warm water was a rarity in this rundown building, and the landlord had no intention of fixing it. Peter found himself sitting in the shower, the water washing away the grime and blood. His mind replayed the events of the day, the memory of Ethan being shot in the head seared into his brain. The curse of a sharp mind was a vivid memory.


After cleaning himself, Peter stepped out of the shower and dressed in pyjama shorts and a t-shirt. He walked into the main room, intending to lie on the sofa, but he heard soft cries coming from MJ's room. Approaching her door, he opened it gently and saw her curled up in a ball, tears streaming down her face. Without a word, he climbed onto the bed and pulled her into a hug.


"He was just a kid who was scared," she stuttered out between sobs.


"I know," Peter replied, stroking her red hair as she wept into his chest.


"How can you stand it?" MJ asked, the guilt at not being able to help Ethan gnawing at her insides.


Peter was silent for a moment, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Sleep now. Things will be better tomorrow," he said softly, starting to stand up. But MJ grabbed his arm, her voice pleading as she asked him not to go. Peter nodded, settling back down and holding her close.


(AN: Been ages since I've done this one, not cause I've given up on it but I just had a bit of writer's block. I love spider man and wanted to do it justice while making it a darker world than usual. Anyway I'm gonna try update this one a bit more regularly. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


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