Spiderman Oneshots

The Spider (4)

The Spider was an elusive criminal, hard to spot and impossible to follow. But since Harley had discovered Peter's identity, the Spider had dropped completely off-grid - and so had Peter. He didn't care much about school or about whether Ben had even noticed his absence. Not when all of his plans were coming together so perfectly. He knew Harley had been to his apartment, had watched through the laptop's camera as he'd spotted the map. He knew Harley was on his way here, hot on Peter's heels.

The spot he'd chosen was in the centre of the business district, in a warehouse. Cliché, yes, but it was as good as place as any and far away enough from the city centre that he wouldn't be hurting anyone who didn't deserve it when the machine was unleashed. There weren't many people around (enough innocents had died because of heroes), but if everything went according to plan, there'd be enough property damage to make sure Iron Lad was discredited for good - and Tony Stark's name was dragged through the mud because of it. Peter had made sure to choose an area with lots of warehouses belonging to Stark's rivals. So when the whole place went up in flames and there was no evidence of the Spider's interference, it would look like Tony had sent his mentee to do his dirty work for him.

The familiar sound of repulsors echoed through the night. Peter smirked and went back to his machine, fiddling with some wires and pretending to make last-minute adjustments.

"Stop!" Harley yelled. Peter did just as he was told, hopping on top of the machine and waving at Iron Lad. 

"Hey Harls. Long time, no see."

"Peter, you don't have to do this," he said immediately, and Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Here came the 'you're better than this' drivel. Peter was not interested in being redeemed - he just wanted vengeance for his too-good-for-this-world aunt.

"That's what you're leading with, really?"

"Why are you doing this? You're a good kid."

"Okay, here's the truth... It's because you were late to tutor group last week."

"This is serious," he could hear Harley's frustration through the metal mask.

"So's your education! What can I say, I hold grudges easily."

"If you tell me why you're doing this, maybe we can find another way."

"I like my way plenty, thank you."

"Peter, I went to your apartment. Is this... is this about your aunt?"

Peter's hands froze, barely. "Enough chat. Let's see how much attention you've been paying," Peter said, brushing off Harley's words in favour of not getting riled up and making mistakes. He pressed a button, and a large timer flashed to life on the side of the machine: 5:00

It began to count down. 4:59, 4:58, 4:57.

Peter grinned in absolute satisfaction. "Have fun!" 

And he launched himself out fo the conveniently placed window he'd positioned himself in front of before Harley, too distracted by the beeping machine, could do anything to stop him.

🕷

Let's step back for a second, as Peter swings himself out of the blast radius, and remember his goals as a villain. Revenge for May was top priority, done by disgracing Tony Stark through his protege Iron Lad. Making himself feel better about his own dump of a life through the messed up means of making other people afraid was a bonus. Being strictly not-cliché was a fairly minor one, but one Peter was pretty adamant about. So what was he doing playing into all the tropes? 

Revenge plot, that was key. Superhero nemesis, well, that couldn't be helped. Warehouse lair, check. But were the overcomplicated bomb, timer, and leaving the room to give the hero an opportunity to thwart him really necessary?