#spiderxling

the following contains spoilers from spider-man no way home.

Breathe. He needed to keep breathing. He was sitting in his wheelchair tucked in some out of the way corner of the facility. Seeing that MJ, hearing that MJ angered him to no bounds. How she, that thing called him acting like her and showed up at his doorstep. It brought back feelings and memories to him that he hadn’t felt in years and they were all false. The mere thought of it got his blood pressure rising. 

As his anger rose he could feel Venom in the back of his mind, making me think that he was a we. He had no choice. He pulled a prepped syringe from his hoodie and quickly injected it into his wrist. It was a sedative. He felt the symbiote calming down and going to sleep, his blood pressure dropping along with it. He wiped the droplet of blood off his wrist, even sleeping Venom already healed his minuscule wound.

After a few meditative breaths he rolled himself around the corner, and to his surprise the first think he saw was Parker. Sulking by himself at the opposite side of the room; a look on his Flash never saw from bullying him. Whatever Parker was going through had to be worse than what he was going through, Mary Jane was his girl friend, not just some lost love connection he had in high school like she was to Flash. He pulled up across from him and pushed down the break to keep his wheel in place. 

“--’s not a big deal.” MJ shrugged a lanky shoulder. “And Flash isn’t my friend. He’s just going to M.I.T. with Ned and I next fall.”

What the hell she was doing? Michelle Jones was not social. She did not invite people places. She read her books, worked and did decathlon. Her word wasn’t small; it was safe. Outside of Ned, MJ didn’t really have any friends. That was fine. It was a choice, really. What was he, then? Him: Peter Parker. The boy who came in way too often for coffee that Michelle was pretty sure he didn’t drink. He hadn’t hit on her, though. They chatted some and it seemed innocent enough. Whatever tiny spark of recognition that had ignited in her chest that first day he had come in remained, but it was wrapped in a hazy fog that she never noticed. Despite all that, there she was. Inviting him to a party at Flash’s. They had to be the same age, right? He didn’t look much older than her -- if at all.

Amadeus wasn’t supposed to be up and about right now, but as far as he was concerned he didn’t have a choice. Nadia was down, four of the five mutants that had the Phoenix were kind of crazy and scary, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. When in doubt work. He was in the lab the Bruce had prepared for his personal use and was just borrowing the space. 

Using Nadia’s data, his own, and the recordings and observations caught throughout the moon incident he was punching the numbers and searching for answers. Any answers. Seeing how much of the raw power of the phoenix force his mace could redirect. How much of the cosmic radiation and flames from the phoenix it would take to kill him. Making estimates on roughly how much more powerful the five had gotten and most importantly trying to figure out their next moves. This was his strong suit. If there was anyone better than him at pattern recognition on the planet he hadn’t met them, and neither had Athena who claimed he was better at it than most divines.

“C’mon, Ammy. You’re not going to let this stop you. Everyone needs you.” he muttered to himself as he hunched over the desk, his back arched. He was on pain killers but they were starting to fade and he was due for a gauze change. His fists were clenched as a wave of pain came over him and he began to sweat a cold sweat as he struggled to stand and breathe. “Mother-!” is all he could get out before slamming his fist on the desk twice and tenting it in the process.

Halloween. It was always one of Trauma’s favorite holidays from a very young age. Sure, you might say all kids loved Halloween, but it wasn’t the candy or being able to run around late into the dark embrace of night, it was something else. Something more personal. He couldn’t explain it then but he felt more at home. He was always the outcast kid. Quiet, dark, morbid and just all around strange compared to his classmates, but on Halloween? On Halloween he fit right in. He got to put on a mask that fulfilled all his morbid curiosities and not be judged for it. Then his parents couldn’t understand his fascination with the day, but now it made perfect sense.

All of that being said it was a shame his holiday had to be spent writing an essay on Bronfenbrenner’s ecological model. Trauma didn’t find it so bad, at least it was a subject that interested him and he had Silent Hill on the in the background and would occasionally glance up when his nose wasn’t in his textbooks or laptop. Next to him an ever growing pile of Jolly Rancher wrappers was stacked as well as half empty bag of them missing all the blue and purple pieces making his tongue a unique a noticeable shade of dark purple. 

Right as the girl in front of the church was getting her skin ripped off by Pyramid head he heard someone walking into the room. “Sorry, did you need the room?” He asked as he already began closing his books and saving his document to leave. Most people here didn’t want to spend much time around him. His powers crept them out. Some of his fellow graduates weren’t so bad, but most of these new guys didn’t know him well enough yet.

Peter had a meeting with the Avenger’s. Sounded like a big shocking deal from how he was acting the last time they talked. He was so shaken, he needed to ditch that. He was a kid but he had to toughen up, gain some confidence too. He knew he would, but a legend feeling insecure is a ridiculous thought.

With a downward flick of his wrist he shot webbing into the bulls-eye he made on Peter’s bedroom ceiling. He had covered the a small portion of the ceiling with webbing, but his claws would be able to remove it with ease in a few minutes. That’s when he heard the handle jostle.

 “Probably should have told him I’d be here...” He muttered to himself as he went from laying on his bed to sitting on the edge of it.

“Twelve hostels. Heavily armed. Three blocks south. Bank heist. Copy, over and out.”

Flash echoed the SHIELD agent as he rolled his way into an alley in the dead of night. He hated this whole secret identity thing. If he could just go in running and screaming without having to hide and prep he could potentially save countless lives, but that was something to worry about later. In the mean time he launched himself out of his chair as black tendrils formed his legs as tendrils whipped out from his belt and wrapped around his entire body, giving him his black armored Spider-Man look. Grabbing his folded up multi-gun and desert eagle from his back and holstering them he through his pack and chair up and webbed them to the alley walls.

“No time for subtlety.” He declared as he sprints out of the alley straight into a low web swing. People stared, they always did. He could hear the little kids excitedly call out ‘Look it’s Spider-Man!’ Flash was no one to look up to, unlike Parker. Plus the kid was way better when it came down to puns. 

Landing on a roof top looking over the bank he altered Venom to use night vision. Looked like ex-military. Venom was getting excited at the site. Not good. Flash was all out of his sedative so he needed to make this fast. 

Extending his Multi-Gun to full length he began a web swing straight for the bank window. Before smashing through the glass he managed to get three shots off. One in an ankle; shattered, they’d need medical attention. One caught it in the shoulder but the kick was enough to knock them off their feet and back a few. Third was only a graze. 

“Two incapacitated.” He updated the agent. Breaking through the glass he tossed his multi gun up in the air as a tendril caught it and laid down suppressive fire as he disarmed one assailant before tossing him straight into another. 

“Four down.” He updated as he he ripped an assault rifle out of the hands of one opponent with his webbing before drawing his pistol and putting one in their knee, and one in the shoulder of the one behind him. Now he was ready to get down. Tendrils snapped up the six assailants rifles and began shooting down his opponents and before long they were all webbed up with a rifle aimed at each of their heads.