Look 'bad luck' up in the dictionary. Go on. We'll wait. See there? That picture of an awkward college student tripping over his own feet? That's Peter Parker. He's majoring in chemical engineering, and by some stroke of (you guessed it) bad luck, t...
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'Don't put the suit back on' should be a pretty easy ask, right? Well, that's what Peter thought as well when he returned to the Baxter Building and locked it in his suitcase (or, to be more specific, his Uncle Ben's old suitcase). He threw it over the foot of his bed and tried desperately to forget that it was there. He raided the fridge, made five different sandwiches with seperate fillings, watched Turbo Kid, played Mass Effect on Johnny's PS4...but no matter what he did, his mind wandered back into that suitcase and the strange costume packed away inside.
Multiple times throughout the day, Peter found himself back in his room staring at the damned thing; as if it were silently calling him there. He was more than a little relived when he heard the blaring sound of sirens speeding past the building.
Peter leapt to his closet and pulled out the usual suit. It was torn beyond recognition, the red and blue fabric left with holes so large that wearing it would have been the equivalent of walking out completely naked. His mask was the same, half of it was damaged enough to reveal Peter's face to any curious onlookers.
"Seriously?" Peter sighed, scrunching the costume up and angrily throwing it against the wall. He didn't even remember ruining his suit in the first place...but he couldn't recall most of the last few days so that wasn't exactly surprising.
His gaze snapped to the suitcase, the sirens growing fainter with every second he wasted. He didn't have much of a choice. With a surprising twinge of elation, he pulled the suit out and got changed into it.
He followed the sirens, jumping higher, leaping further, and gripping his webs with a strength that made it feel easy. Eventually, Peter perched himself on the side of a building right across from all the commotion.
A handful of squad cars formed a perimeter around the warehouse while dozens of police officers were preventing civillians from getting too close.
Then Peter overheard a rather heated discussion from the ground level. "You better have a damn good reason for letting this happen, sergeant."
"Davis, she has a chance to sort this out and make sure nobody gets shot, including our guys," replied the sergeant. "That's what these supers do. What's the difference between them and us?"
Spidey peered downward to take a look at the commotion. This Davis guy had the rank insignia of captain on the shoulder of his uniform. His eyes were pure obsidian and he stood at least seven inches taller than the poor sergeant he was berating.
"That warehouse has been seized by mercenaries. Paid killers. And you just let a young girl walk right in there because she has a stupid name and some superpowers. She is a civilian, and civilians have a duty to retreat. You allowing her to violate that duty is misconduct," snapped Davis. "Get out of my sight before I take your badge."
Peter twitched at the mention of 'mercenaries'. Sounded like a step up from deadbeats hanging out in alleyways. He also had a feeling he happened to know this woman they were talking about...so it was time he put his theory to the test.
