SUMMER JOB || Peter Parker X Reader

Chapter 23: Another Strike

Uncle Tommy stirred the eggs in the pan, scrawling them as they cooked. "But yeah, this lady was absolutely insane, like, ma'am this is a marketing and design firm, please calm down."

You laughed, taking another bite of your pop tart. "Sounds like something that would happen in a daycare."

"You're telling me." Uncle Tommy said. "Hey, go get Laurie up, she's going to miss breakfast."

You shoved the last bit of your pop tart in your mouth and headed upstairs to retrieve Laurie. You could hear music coming from your room when you opened the door.

"Laurie?" You asked.

She was laying on her bed, looking at the ceiling. "Hmm."

"Breakfast... what are you doing?" You asked.

"Listening to my own music." She said. "Makes me feel better about being a failure. And an artist. And a failure of an artist. Actually, all artists are failures. It's a dying industry."

"Right." You said. "Your dads making eggs."

"Yeah okay." She said, getting out of bed and switching off the music.

Downstairs, the eggs were ready and Uncle Tommy had made himself comfortable on the couch, watching the morning news. "Morning sunshine." He greeted.

"Morning." Laurie said, breezing by into the kitchen.

"You seem upset." Uncle Tommy said, frowning.

"Just tired." Laurie covered. Because of course she wasn't going to tell him that you'd both snuck out to go try and preform (or at least try to) vigilante justice in the middle of the night.

"Mmm." Uncle Tommy said, sipping his morning coffee (which was really just whipped cream at this point). "Wanna hear about a thing that happened at work yesterday?"

"Sure." Laurie walked back into the living room with a plate of eggs. She plopped down on the couch next to her father.

"Okay, so we had this lady came in yesterday, and she was lugging this little kid with her, like maybe three or four-"

"This just in, thirteen dead at Harrington Industrial from a mass shooting by the known terrorist TelePro this morning-"

"Oh no." Uncle Tommy's face drained of color and emotion.

The news anchor continued. "This morning at 5:32 a.m, the known terrorist Mike Dugan - self proclaimed TelePro for his use of teleportation as a pseudo-superpower - entered the Harrington Industrial building with the incoming employees for the day."

Laurie set her eggs down, hands shaking and fingers clenched.

"Dugan proceeded to force his way up to the top floor of the building, either teleporting last or shooting anyone who came in his path until he reached the office of Jeff Harrington Jr., C.E.O of the company. Dugan proceeded to broadcast a speech throughout the building, and then shot Harrington in the skull twice, killing him."

The screen switched to a recording, obviously from someone's phone. It showed a mass of terrified people frozen at their desks, listening to the intercom.

You recognized TelePros voice immediately. It was the voice of your nightmares, after all.

"You'll all thank me one day. It's people like these bosses of yours that ruin everything." TelePro said. "And with people like him out of the way-" A gunshot sounded.

One of the women pressed a hand over her mouth.

"We'll all be free from the clutches of the wealthy." TelePro finished, chuckling. "Did you all know Thomas Jefferson was a fan or revolution? Sweep the board of the wealthy and the powerful every now and again; start fresh." He rambled.