Who's This?

5

Three days later and Peter was still not healing from the other night. But, nevertheless, he was still swinging between buildings and stopping crime. Just because he was injured didn't mean that all of Queens had to suffer because of him.

It was twelve-thirty p.m and so far Peter had stopped a grocery-store robbery, helped a drunk girl get home, and cuddled a street cat that happened to be sitting where he had hid his backpack. It was a pretty uneventful night yet he was still in excruciating pain. Every time he moved his shoulder it felt like he was getting shot all over again. Then, his thigh also ended up getting injured. Peter wasn't sure what caused it, though, because there wasn't any skin broken; just a constant burning sensation. There wasn't even a bruise!

Whenever Queens was quiet, Peter would sit on the roof-top of a small diner and do his homework. He could not let his grades drop if he wanted to get the internship. So, here he was, doing his physics homework, using his cellphone flashlight to be able to see the questions and what he was writing. His stomach loudly grumbled, and all Peter could do was take a big swig of his water and continue ignoring it.

After around fifteen minutes of silence, he heard a girl's voice and some other lower, slurred voices. Peter poked his head out from the side of the rooftop and saw a girl, probably around the age of twenty-one, being hassled by a group of three men over the age of forty. Peter hated dealing with drunk men. They had no respect for anyone except themselves and felt entitled to every single living being. Groaning, Peter hopped off the roof and snuck over to the girl's side.

"Hey, guys!" Peter smiled, even though he knew they couldn't see it from under his mask. "What's going on here?"

"What the hell are you?" One of the bigger guys barely slurred out. "Some kind of spidey boy?"

"Wait I've heard of this dude." Another said, stepping forward. "Black Widow!"

"Um," Peter stifled a laugh. "No, Black Widow is a girl."

"And you're not?" The biggest one laughed. "You sure sound like one."

"Rude," Peter mumbled, frowning. He thought his voice was deepening. I guess not.

"Anyways little spidey boy, we have business to do." One said and reached to grab the girl, who quickly flinched backward. Peter grabbed the man's wrist before he could touch her and smiled. "Sorry, but it doesn't seem like she wants you to touch her."

"Listen here you little shit," He said and shook his wrist out of Peter's grip. "You can go mind your own business, or you can see what real grown men can do to wimps like you."

"How about neither?" Peter said, grabbing hold of the girl and swinging away. The men cursed and attempted to chase after them, but swinging is way faster than running, especially when the one running is drunk. After they swung a few blocks away, Peter couldn't stand the girl screaming in his ear and landed in a parking lot.

"Would you like me to walk you home?" Peter asked, letting go of the girl. She stared at him in fear and quickly shook her head before running off. Peter sighed and let her go. He was too tired to argue with her about safety.

Peter took a step and immediately felt a surging pain go throughout his entire leg. He fell to the ground, letting out a quick loud scream, before covering his mouth with his hand. Peter bit down on his hand hard, drawing a tiny bit of blood. Holy shit. Holy shit.

"What the hell is happening," Peter whispered, tears slowly falling down his face. He'd had a lot of stuff happen to him, but this was by far the most painful one. Peter just laid there, waiting for the pain to ease, but it never did. Here he was, sprawled out like a starfish in a Walmart parking lot. With struggle, Peter pulled out his phone and texted Ned.