Author's note: This was originally supposed to be two chapters but is didn't where to cut it so you guys get a long one!

Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-man or any other character from Marvel.

Chapter fifteen: Medication for fear

Using beating as a method of torture only works in the short term. As the leader of Hammerhead's Enforcers, Schultz had to learn that early on, if he wanted to get results. Of course, when it came to everyday civilians, it was different. Usually, just the threat of a beating was enough, though they often gave a few punches to let them know what to expect if they ever decide not to cooperate. But to the more experienced kind, beating isn't that big of an intimidation. Sure, it hurts and if one gets creative they can cause some serious damage but it's too messy and takes a lot of work. Plus, it leaves severe marks that are hard to hide though that's only a problem if the subject is intended to be left alive. If it's just a one-time information gathering, then it's okay to go all out but if someone's making a long-term investment, it's better to be bit more subtle about it.

Through the years, they've found that threatening loved ones or hurting already wounded places is more effective. The best method they'd discovered, however, was waterboarding. Those bigshots at the CIA must know a thing or two about this kind of stuff. Apart from bloodshot eyes, it barely leaves any trails and he had never met anyone who was able to take it for more than a few hours before breaking. So when their job demanded it, or when none of them had some overwhelming frustration to vent out (the exception was mostly O'Hirn), they used that method and as far as he knew, most of the other similar groups too. It's the most effective.

That is why he was really baffled about why he'd spent the last couple of days being beaten to a pulp. When he arrived back to the meeting point, already worn out, he was expecting some sort of punishment after a few rebukes. But their boss, Sable (according to Spider-man), just looked at him with eyes one might use when they feel a deep and cold fury for a cockroach, and then simply kicked him in the head. He saw it coming (sort of), but he was so tired that his reaction was way too slow to do anything, He passed out and the next thing he knew was that he was locked in a dark and cold basement, fully naked… except for a few bandages on his left arm, his shoulder now put back in place. That last part was really confusing but he decided not to fuss and just be grateful about it.

He'd considered his punishment rather light until five hooded hooligans barged in, led by a blond-dyed Latino, around his mid-twenties who might have been handsome a couple of nose breaks ago. He looked at Schultz with disdain then ordered his goons to start beating and kicking him. He tried to defend himself but he was still a little dozy and immensely outnumbered. They weren't methodical about it at all, just hitting and kicking wherever they could, like some mindless beasts. But their intelligence didn't really matter as long as they could cause damage and hurt him. And they did. A lot. It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before one of them kicked his wounded shoulder and he passed out, though it sure as hell felt like it was more. But unfortunately it wasn't over because their leader splashed him with ice-cold water and he suddenly woke up, shimmering and hurting everywhere. After that, they continued for god knows how long before they got tired, spit on him, and then simply left.

The next thing he remembered was that Sable came in. He tried to crawl away but there was barely any strength left in him. She put a bag down next to him, opened it and took out… a first aid kit. She cleaned his bruises with cotton wool and medical alcohol and bandaged his wounds. Then, she took out an injection that contained some kind of transparent liquid and Schultz instinctively tried to get away from her. But she grabbed his upper body, disturbingly gently, and placed it on her lap. She placed the needle to his left shoulder and tightened her grip on him when he started to struggle but it still wasn't hard enough to hurt him. She jammed it in and pushed the liquid into him and it felt… amazing.

He wasn't sure if it was morphine or some kind of other super-painkiller but he literally felt the pain melt away. He shuddered and let out a soft whimper. He hated that and he hated how grateful he was for her. She didn't stop there, however. She cleaned his face, reached into the bag again and took out a bottle of water. She lifted his head, his upper-body still supported by her lap, and helped him drink it. Then, she took out something that looked like it was mixed into liquid form and had him drink that too. It tasted vaguely like chicken. It must have been some extra nourishing thing. She stayed with him for a while, gently caressing his forehead. When he was getting tired, she softly put down his head from her lap and left. Schultz felt the urge to call out for her to stay and he'd honestly never ever hated himself as much as he did in that moment.

The next few days were spent in pretty much the same fashion. Except on the third or maybe fourth occasion (it got a bit confusing) ex-prettyboy got the idea that his humiliation wasn't enough so he decided to piss on him. Schultz gave him the name 'Deadboy' afterwards. By then, he started to doubt that he'd get his revenge on the Goblin or Spider-man but no matter the cost, he swore to kill that fucker. The only bright side of that incident was that they probably weren't aware of what Sable was doing to him after and most likely didn't tell her about it. When she put his head on her lap that time, he could barely stop himself from grinning madly. Though, his aching lips helped.

Sadly, he could hardly do anything the next few days for his revenge besides enduring and watching the floor getting dusty. Dustier and dustier. Always coming in from under the door, slowly but steadily. It somehow felt comforting and… familiar. Like I'm back in the old days. By the time he figured it out, he felt really ashamed that it took him so long. He felt a huge smile form on his face and, this time, he made no effort to stop it. He crawled a few feet away from where he lay, then sat up, opposite the door and started waiting for Deadboy and his gang to arrive, shimmering with anticipation. He thought of the torture and humiliation he had suffered during the past few days and his breathing quickened, both in anger and eagerness for sweet, sweet revenge. And you fellows, are just the appetizers.

He wasn't sure how long he'd sat there but he was starting to get a little tired by the time the door finally opened. His instinctive reaction was to curve into a ball which made him clench his teeth in rage. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, then raised his head and looked straight at Deadboy's smug face. He just now realized that his right eye was so swollen that he couldn't even open it.

"Whatever." He mumbled, his voice coming out dry from his throat. "I can enjoy your death with half an eye, too."

"Hmm? What was that, asshole?" Deadboy asked in a conceited tone. "You want some of my juice again? 'Cause I've been keeping it just for you." He said, then laughed in a typical 'hehe' goon fashion, his lackeys joining him short after, making the cliché that much worse. Jesus, I really hope we were never that lame.

"Peopl…" He tried to speak but started coughing mid-word, a heavy wet cough and he started to feel a certain metallic taste in his mouth, not long after. Schultz urged himself to ignore that and continue but his chance was stolen.

"What makes you so chatty all of a sudden, huh? "Deadboy asked, then signaled his men to approach Schultz. "Don't you know it just gets you into more trouble?"

"People wet themselves just before they die. Did you know that?" Schultz rasped, spit a little blood on the floor, then continued. "I guess that's not your gravest mistake ever but… you really shouldn't have kept it in. It's gonna get really messy." His mouth curved into a toothy grin, blood shining on his white teeth. "Isn't that right, Flint?"

The man closest to Schultz suddenly got grabbed by something and pulled into the dark corners of the room. The only source of light was the open door, so the human sized sand dune in the corner was entirely concealed by the darkness from the intruders. Before the others could react, the missing person was swiftly thrown back, knocking down another. Panic erupted on their faces as they tried to look for an assailant but, obviously, couldn't find any. At least, not in human form. Showing his true courage, Deadboy quickly stepped out of the room and abruptly closed the door, locking it tight. Though Schultz could barely see anything anymore, he could tell how frightened the left-behind goons were from the way they started to scream. It wasn't the fake kind, like one can hear in movies. No, it was almost inhuman, like it was coming from some unknown animal rather than a human. The screams of true terror.

They gathered in front of the door, smashing it with their fists while calling for help, which would never come but they probably refused to believe that. People always do that. Why? They run, even though they there's nowhere to run. They always think that some sort of help is on the way. Why? Why? Why? I don't get it. I didn't, no matter how desperate I was… Even though, for me, help actually came… Huh, maybe that's the trick. Schultz thought while he struggled to stand up. He managed but his balance was wavering as he took a shaky step forward. The goons must have seen better then Schultz because they turned around, wide eyed and stared at him.

"Stop! Stop whatever you're doin', man! I'm serious!" One of them shouted. He was closest to the door. Schultz just took another wobbly step. "Hey, stay right there, you hear me!? Don't you come any closer! You take on more step and you're dead!"

"Sure, that's why you beg me." Rasped Schultz as he took another step. Then another. The gang was pushed together so much that Schultz would've had trouble counting their numbers if not for the faint light coming in from under the door, making their wide eyes shine. Apparently, the other realized how futile his threats were on Schultz because he changed tactics.

"If…" His voice shook, so he stopped to steady it while Schultz came one step closer. "Hey! Hold on! Hold on! If we don't make it out of here alive, then she gets it, alright!? You hear me!? That girl. Your friend's daughter! She dies!" He all but screamed now. When he finished, Schultz stopped and just stared at him. He seemed to gain confidence from that and puffed himself up, as if the situation was never out of his control. Then Schultz simply burst out laughing. He just laughed from the bottom of his belly and even though it hurt like hell, he couldn't care less. He just had to laugh. It has been so long since he really could. It felt like a mark for the end of an era.

From the dark corners of the room, a vague swirling motion appeared, triggered by the mention of the girl. But even more terrifying was the sound of the moving sand, like hundreds of angry rattlesnakes, loud enough to overshadow Schultz' mad laughter. And the meaning was the same with the snakes. It meant danger.

The lackeys turned back toward the door, banging with all their might, their mouths opening to cry for help. It proved fatal. Strings of sand, the size of fists moved down each of their throats in a fluid motion, sealing their trachea entirely. Their screams stopped with absolute fatality as they started trashing around, hopelessly crawling at their necks. In the dark room, Schultz could rather hear them choke to death, than see it but it was enough for him. He only wanted to see one of them suffer, and he wanted him to die from his own hands. He wouldn't give him to anyone.

It took a while before his friend could open the tightly locked door, moving the grains of sand fast enough back and forth to cut through steel. When Schultz finally stepped out of the room, he had to shield his eyes from the sunlight that shined through a window. But it didn't bother him, rather he bathed in the feeling as the light touched his bruised skin. It was a wonderfully sunny day. A perfect day to kill!

"You know what's perfect? This sandwich." Said Gwen after swallowing a mouthful of it. She and Peter were eating outside, sitting on an outdoor lunch table, opposite each other. Gwen, of course, was talking about the sandwiches May had packed for the both of them. It was nothing special, really but had just the right amount of everything it needed. Gwen had found out during the last few days that she was a real genius when it came to food. Though, so was her dad for that matter but he barely had time to make anything, always busy with work. She shook her head at that thought, trying hard to erase it. It would just spoil the moment. Instead she looked at Peter, who barely touched his food. He seemed really tense and kept glancing left and right, as if expecting something terrifying to jump them at any moment. "Hey, are you listening?"

"Hmm?" He looked at her suddenly, obviously having no idea what she was previously talking about. "Oh… Sorry, I was just…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. It was nothing important, anyway." She interrupted with a shrug. It had hurt a little that he wasn't paying any attention to her but she tried not to be petty about it. Instead, she tried to copy what MJ did for her and did her best to be helpful. "So, what's with you? You look all shaken up."

"What!? No, no… I mean… no." Really, that's what you meant? "I'm just a little… ahm… you know…" No, I actually don't know, that's why I asked!... Or do I?

"Is this about what happened a week ago?" She asked, causing his gaze to become puzzled. "At the police headquarters, I mean." His expression turned guarded, which Gwen took as a yes. "You know… it's okay to feel like that. I mean, it was quite traumatic, being so close to… dying and all that. So, if you feel like it… you can talk to me about it. I get it how scary it can be." She said a little uncertainly. Honestly, she had a few nightmares since then but she had a hard time talking to anyone about it. So she convinced herself that she could deal with it on her own. But if it could help Peter get through his problems, then what the hell.

"Of course." Sighed Peter in realization, slowly massaging his forehead. "Of course you do. Sorry, I was so caught up with my own problems that it hadn't even occurred to me how much harder it must have been for."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean!?" She asked angrily, causing him to lean a little away from her.

"No-nothing, it's just that you said it was really traumatic and all that."

"Yeah, for you. Because you're a wimp, so it's understandable."

"Wow, thanks. But didn't you just say that you get it how it is?" He asked, his tone carrying a friendly tease. "Doesn't that mean you're also a…" He couldn't finish because Gwen raised her right foot, with her heavy boots, put it on the bench between his legs, barely an inch from his crotch and glared at him threateningly.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. What were you going to say?" She asked with a menacing tone which made Peter gulp. Literally, gulp with a big sound and everything.

"Ahm… I… I meant to say that you're ah… so nice and beautiful and… so brave." He mumbled. Even if it was just during them playing, Gwen's heartbeat quickened when he called her beautiful. It was probably the first compliment he had ever given her. Wow, and I only had to threaten him.

"Good." She said simply and put her leg down. "But seriously, if you want to talk about what's wrong, I can listen." She continued, changing to a gentler tone. "It won't hurt." She added and when Peter seemed to want to comment on that, she quickly followed it up. "IF we're talking about you." He chuckled at that, then looked at the table, deep in thought before finally letting out a deep sigh.

"It's just…" He started in a tired voice. "It's not that I'm scared but rather I feel paranoid. Like, there's danger at every corner, disguised as something else and I have to be alert all the time and it's just… too much, I guess. I can't be prepared for everything and I can't rely on luck all the time either so I have no idea what to do. And it's not like I'm scarred for my life. I mean, sure, I don't want to die but I've been familiar with death since I was little so my own doesn't scare me that much." Gwen nearly slapped him for that but she restrained herself by clenching her hands into fists and digging her nails into her palm. "But what about Aunt May, hm? I can't do that to her. She's been through way too much. Especially with how recent Uncle Ben's… So yeah, I don't want to put her through that again. It's scary and I don't know what to do." He finished and he sounded truly concerned.

"Well, for starters, how about spending more time with her?" She said after a few moments of silence. "I mean, during this week and a half I've been there, you were barely at home. I'm not being judgmental here or anything but if it's really how you feel then maybe you could, you know, be around once in a while instead of doing whatever it is you're doing." She hesitated then added in a lower voice. "It sucks when someone you need isn't around."

"I… I'm never around, am I?" He said in shocked realization. "Ever since… I've been going out and out, being… but for the one who needed me the most I'm never there. But then… how am I supposed to…" He didn't finish. He just looked… lost. It made Gwen feel the urge to hug him.

"Hey, don't eat yourself up over it, okay?" She said quickly, really uncertain what to say. "I'm sure she's not mad and I think she understands. That you need time to… get used to how things are now. So don't get too worked up, okay? Just, I don't know, do something with her once in a while, like something you used to do when… when you were all together. I'm sure she would love it. And… I'm sure she loves you." Gwen finished and even she found her words surprising. If I could talk to my dad like that, my life would be so much simpler. Peter just stared in front of himself for a long time after that. Then, he finally looked up, his deep brown eyes meeting hers.

"Gwen." He said in barely a whisper. "Thank you. Thank you for telling me all of this. Seriously." His voice was filled with vulnerability but his gaze was strong and Gwen felt that unique raw power that he seem to emit from time to time. She felt her cheeks get flushed so she tried to cover by changing the subject.

"It's okay." She said, her voice a little higher pitched which was really frustrating. "I kinda blackmailed you into helping me break into my dad's office so it was the least I could do." She suddenly got an idea. "Speaking of which, I've never properly thanked you for saving me that time." Peter's head snapped back at that, as if hit by something. He's probably surprised I'm able to say the word 'thank you'… though I didn't think it would be this shocking. "Well, you and Spider-man, I guess, but I can hardly thank him, right?"

"Yeah." He drawled, with a sly look and a mysterious smile appearing on his face. Why is he acting weird? Wait… Is he… is he trying to flirt!? Did he catch on to what I'm about to ask him!? Okay, Gwen just stay calm, just STAY CALM! You're not one of those girls who gets all worked up because of stuff like this. No reason to freak out. She completely ignored the fact that this was the first time something like this has happened to her… and how untrue it was.

"Soo…" She stopped to lick her suddenly dried up lips and to steady her somehow shaky voice. "How about we get some dinner? My treat!" She blurted out, a little too fast for her taste but at least it was really liberating. She felt relieved for finally doing it, even if it was not-so-subtly wrapped in a pretense. She belatedly realized that her heart has been hammering since she came up with the idea and now it was beating unbearably fast as she waited in anticipation.

"Nah, it's okay. I was glad to help." Peter said with a shrug. And then started munching on his sandwich. He just ate. In his usual expression. Like nothing happened. Meanwhile, Gwen felt… angry? Shocked? Nervous? Confused? A little nauseous? Probably, all of those and more. After a few seconds she somewhat pulled herself together and started to think. Was I just rejected? Or there's a misunderstanding somewhere? She needed to find out. But before she could ask she realized that Peter had stopped eating was studying her. "Look, if you're feeling indebted, then don't. It was nothing, really. Besides, those things you just said to me were more than enough compensation. So don't worry."

"…Oh." Was all she could master to say while she tried to think peaceful thoughts. … Peter, you stupid fucking idiot! How could you be so fucking dense!? Aren't you supposed to be top of our freaking class!? Do I really have to spell it out for you!? How!? How!? How!? How are you this fucking stupid!? "…okay."

"Okay, time out!" Peter suddenly said, his hands forming a 'T' shape. "What did I miss? I missed something, right? I'm sorry, it's just that I don't really know how to… people."

"…what?" Gwen asked, feeling totally confused. Even though her head was still in turmoil she was pretty sure that what Peter said didn't make much sense. Until she realized that he was looking at a certain direction. She started to turn her head to see who he was looking at but didn't need to bother because her eardrums were stabbed with huge needles. Or at least, it sure as hell felt like it.

"PETEY!" Shrieked Liz like the evil b… witch she was. It appeared that barely even a month of cheerleading can make a person no better than a siren. Not that there was much hope for her anyway… In all honesty, Gwen used to have no problem with Liz. They barely ever met, let alone talked which was perfectly suitable for her. And, unlike her best friend, Sally, she wasn't an obnoxious attention seeker.

But all of that stopped to matter for Gwen after one tiny fact. Liz was, without a doubt, attracted to Peter. And not just in a 'finds his body or personality slightly eye-catching' way, no she really seemed enticed with him. Even worse, she didn't even try to downplay it, making it painfully obvious to everyone around them, even her boyfriend. Well, maybe with the very possible exception of the target himself if his recently displayed social awareness was any indication. Silver linings, Gwen!

So one can easily imagine how bad the blonde's mood turned when she saw Liz approaching, with her aforementioned best friend in toe, who at least seemed to feel the same amount of dissatisfaction as she did, only for the completely opposite reason. From their group, only Liz liked to associate with Peter. Even so, Sally only seemed a few moments from grabbing her friend's top and dragging her away. I'd buy you a chocolate if you did!

"Oh, hi Liz! …Sally." Peter greeted them a bit stiff, probably sensing the enmity from Sally. So that you can understand!? "What put you in such a good mood?"

"You!" Liz exclaimed with a teasing smile, causing the two blondes to freeze up and then frown at her at the same time. Peter just had a really confused expression.

"H-how come?" He asked, stammering. Liz laughed while she hopped down next him on the bench. Awfully close, which made Sally glare even more. Gwen might have had the same reaction

"Oh, Petey! Do I need to spell it out for you?" She asked, her teasing smile widening and turning into a grin. In his case, you might literally have to. Gwen thought scornfully while she started to feel her stomach twist with anger and… jealousy. Deep and awfully strong jealousy. It made her feel like a teenage girl. She hated it.

"Hey Liz, it's not like I don't like to see nerds get all confused but could you move it along? I haven't got all day, you know?" Said Sally in a sort of scornful bitchy voice that Gwen seriously thought only existed in the movies. Liz shot her a narrowed glare before turning back, opening her pack and taking out a paper.

"Tomorrow, there'll be an open day at Empire State University. I wasn't going to go because I thought there was no way I could get in. But now, it might actually be possible! And it's all thanks to you!" She explained while holding the E.S.U. flier like it was already her approved admission. Peter's eyes cleared and he showed a small smile that was almost teacher-like.

"I don't remember writing your tests." He said, then paused and added. "Actually, I don't remember writing my own either but that's a different story."

"Yeah but that's not the hardest part, at least for me. It's studying and you definitely helped me with that." Liz said her tone turning bashful.

"By sitting next to you in an awkward silence doing nothing? Okay, if that helps… then you should probably get some help." He replied jovially and Liz burst out laughing. And she was doing it way too hard, barely even catching her breath. Okay, now please kindly choke to death. Sadly, she didn't. But she did glance at Peter with upturned eyes and a coquettish grin which made Gwen's blood boil. Fortunately, the receiver of these annoying actions didn't seem to get it as he just showed a friendly smile. Even after Liz slightly leaned forward to give a better showcase of her (infuriatingly) impressive cleavage. At that point, Gwen had to wonder if Peter was playing for the other team.

"Anyway," Continued the Latino girl, seemingly unfazed by the others lack of response. "if you'd like, you can come with us tomorrow." The look of horror Sally showed at that statement was so hilarious that it almost managed to elevate Gwen's mood. Almost.

"Ahm…" drawled Peter uncertainly.

"We were already there last year." Gwen spoke up for the first time since the other two arrived. "And, according to their website, there isn't anything new this year. So there's no reason for us to go there again. That's what Peter didn't say because he's trying to be nice about it." Being condescending wasn't something she was used to but, at that point she couldn't care less.

"…Oh, Gwen. Sorry for ignoring you all this time. I just thought that you'd prefer it that way." Liz said with a slight narrowing of her eyes. Then she shifted her position, getting a little closer to Peter in a sort of possessive fashion while looking at Gwen's eyes. Nice message, bitch but I don't give a fuck. "But, despite what you said, it's not for you to decide. So, if you don't mind, could you let Petey answer?" She continued with an overly sweet voice. You're on bitch! Gwen thought and glared at her, despite well knowing that what she said what actually quite reasonable. She decided to ignore little nuisances like that for the sake of creating a situation that was uncomfortable for everyone involved. Well, maybe not for everyone…

"Come ooooon, Liz. If what Stacy said is true, then Parker's not gonna come but it's gonna take the whole rest of the day for him to say that and, let me tell you, I've got no patience for that." Sally said, shaking her friend's shoulder a little while sending a glance at Gwen that somehow managed to be both arrogant and thankful. It was almost impressive. Meanwhile, Liz clenched her jaw and decided to stubbornly ignore her blond friend, staring at Peter expectantly. By the way, he seemed totally confused about what just happened.

"So, Petey?"

"Ahm… I… What Gwen said was right so I think I'll skip this one. Besides, I have other things to do as well." He said uncertainly. Then, when the brunette's face showed a little disappointment, he quickly added. "But if you want I can send you an e-mail for what to pay attention to, if that's better."

"… Yeah, thanks." Was the brief answer he got. In the meantime, Sally stared at Peter as if he was an alien. She sent a questioning look at Gwen, who just rolled her eyes in return. The cheerleader looked back, and then an amused smile spread across her face, which she didn't even bother to hide. "Anyway, if you change your mind, just give me call, okay?" Liz said while she stood up, apparently not keen on giving up just yet. Peter nodded briefly then watched the two of them walk away. If it was anyone else, Gwen would assume that he was checking them out but most likely, he was trying to solve whatever just happened… while checking them out a little. He was a sixteen year old, after all.

"Gwen," He said, finally looking back at her. "I missed something again, didn't I?" He asked, looking like someone who was hoping for an answer but didn't actually expect one. I'd hate to disappoint.

"Yep. But it's girl stuff so you wouldn't understand." She said, wrapping up what's left of her sandwich and proceeding to stand up.

"Ahm… Could you at least try to explain it?" Peter asked suddenly, stopping her.

"Hmm…" She made show of thinking about it before shrugging. "Maybe. But the thing is 'Petey', I doubt I'm as good of a teacher as you are, so I'm gonna leave it as it is. But hey, if your method really works, maybe you'll figure it out yourself, without any help. Until then, bye." She finished then walked away, while secretly glancing at him one last time. He, of course, looked totally dumbfounded but also… guilty. He may not really get what's going on but he apparently understood very well that he somehow hurt her feelings, even if unwittingly, and he obviously felt bad about it. Which in return made Gwen feel bad about herself. She quickened her steps because she was afraid that she might turn back at any moment to apologize. But after such a rollercoaster of emotions in a short period of time, she just couldn't do it. Plus, her pride wouldn't let her

She went into one of the toilets and washed her face, hoping to calm herself down. It didn't really work. So when dad's not around I just find someone else to went out my frustration on. Awesome, Gwen. Reealy awesome. Maybe you could just insult MJ for trying to help while you're at it. …Honestly, why do I make to things so complicated?

Being Spider-man has become complicated recently. Thanks to Silver Sable's threat, Peter had a hard time concentrating not only on his daily life but also his secret job. In the week since the explosive phone chat, every time he had tried to bust some criminals, he also had to wonder if it was actually another trap, making him overly cautious which greatly distracted him from catching the perpetrators. In fact, two days ago, two of his targets managed to escape even though they were just mere extortionists without any special equipment whatsoever. It was a huge blow to his ego.

Luckily, so far there weren't any actual attacks towards him but it only made him more anxious. Silver was a scary woman by herself but to boost, she apparently had the Shocker working for her and a literal sentient sandstorm. He was just glad that he didn't have to worry about the Rhino anymore. Still, he had become quite paranoid to the point the even forgot to attend his auxiliary biology test that Professor Warren had so leniently allowed him to write. For the first time in his life, he actually had to worry about a school subject, which just goes to show how dire the situation had become.

Fortunately, Gwen Stacy (of all people) had managed to console him a bit by (ironically) pointing at another problem he hadn't even noticed yet; His lack of contact with his Aunt. But instead of adding it to his worries, it was something he knew how to solve. So, during the afternoon, he decided to surprise her by taking her down to his late Uncle's workshop, in the basement. Despite her stereotypical housewife appearance, May Parker was a huge fan of crafting and mending as a leisure activity, especially when it came to wood carving. She and Uncle Ben used to spend hours every week there, making something extra for their house. In fact, most of the furniture in their home was made or, at least, improved there. When he grew old enough (around the age of eight) Peter would also go down with them, though he mostly spent his time practicing some basic engineering skills.

They hadn't been down there since Uncle Ben's passing, so the place had become a little dusty but Peter made sure to clean the place up before inviting his Aunt down. She was reluctant at first, but seeing how eager his nephew was, she gave in and in barely half an hour they were already at full speed, repairing some old stuff. Gwen came down and watched them skeptically, not really understanding what was so good about it. The two of them just smiled at each other conspiratorially. Most people didn't understand their love for activities like that so they were already used to it and it never bother them anyway. Peter was a little concerned about the possibility of them sitting in awkward silence but, thanks to a disbelieving Gwen, they ended up telling old stories about their experience in the workshop. In the end, they didn't manage to convince her how entertaining this whole thing was but at least they got to bathe in a little nostalgia. It's good for soul.

Later, they went through their usual chores; eating diner, showering and going to bed… with the exception of Peter. As the events of the day managed to calm him down (except for the middle where some confusing stuff happened with Gwen, Liz and Sally), he could finally think clearer about his other problem. To deal with the fear of the unknown he had to get information about Silver Sable, her boss, the Shocker, that sandstorm, about their origin… so basically anything. Luckily, he didn't have to resort to googling 'silver haired psycho women' as he had other sources. Also, according to Rule 34, he would probably find something very different from what he was looking for.

His most profitable contact would most likely be Captain Stacy but he was still afraid he would recognize his voice and judging by the media backlash he received from working with him one single time, he'd probably be reluctant to repeat that. So he had to go with his second best, a certain reporter for the Daily Bugle. The problem was that he still had to be cautious because he didn't want to put her on Silver's radar and if he regularly climbed in and out of her window, it would raise some attention sooner or later. So he came up with another idea. He wrote the address of their first meeting place on a note, then casually swung by her street and when he got to her apartment, he attached the note the end of his web-line and shot it at her window. He usually tried to avoid aiming at windows because their lack of cohesion and he concluded it to be a very good idea as he fell out of rhythm and nearly crashed into a truck. He managed to regain his balance and turned toward their meeting place, hoping that Betty would actually check her window before the web dissolved, otherwise he would get to meet some random dude who just happened to find the fallen note. He was unsure what they could talk about.

But he didn't have to wait too long as not even an hour later Betty arrived wearing… a gigantic grey hoodie at least two times her size. He wouldn't have even recognized her if it weren't for her sweatpants that he'd already seen before. She walked with her head lowered and her hands stuffed in her pockets, trying to look inconspicuous but she either looked like a huge ghost or a member of the KKK who was very bad at keep her robes clean… none of them very ordinary. She walked into the alley, looked around and leaned against the wall, either waiting for him or afraid that the air current of the alley might lift her up and make a literal human kite out of her. Maybe she could be my sidekick, Kite-woman. Somehow, he doubted that the name would catch on.

He crawled above her, then did a flip and landed right in front of her, making her jump a little.

"Excuse me, Ms. Hoodie. I'm looking for a woman. Young, brunette and, to my knowledge, sane enough not to wear something this ridiculous." He greeted her with a mock-serious tone. She looked startled for a second before frowning a little.

"Sais the man wearing a red and blue spandex." She replied teasingly.

"They go with my eyes."

"…Anyway, from the way you contacted me, I thought you might be under surveillance so…" She gestured at herself, letting the sight finish it for her. That is, until Spider-man continued in her stead.

"So you asked an elephant if could lend you any hiding clothes but unfortunately, it could only give you something from its mammoth ancestors. I see, I see."

"Oh, shut up! It's from my ex."

"You dated The Rock? Or the Mountain from Game of Thrones?"

"No!"

"…Brienne from Game of Thrones?"

"Haah." She sighed, a little frustrated. "Could you lay off from my hoodie?"

"I don't know, there might not be any space left."

"I'm serious! I need to tell you some things." She said, getting more frustrated and a little embarrassed.

"It better not be fashion advice."

"Okay, that's it. I'm off. Bye." She snapped and turned to leave. Peter was a little curios to see if she would actually leave but he didn't want to make her resentful any more then he already did so he quickly grabbed her shoulder, stopping her.

"Hey, okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He apologized as sincerely as he could. Apparently it wasn't very good because Betty looked skeptical so he tried to make an excuse. "It was too easy a target." …He still had a lot to learn. But Betty showed more professionalism as, after glaring at him for a while, she just sighed and decided to move on.

"No wonder so many people want to kill you." She said monotonously and then looked him in the eye (where the eye symbols of the mask were) and threw back the hood from her head. In the past week she must have had a haircut, shortening it down to a chin length cut that looked a little messy, though that might have been because of the static electricity from the hood. Still, it suited her, giving her a rogue badass look, which given what they were doing, completely fitted her. Also, as a teenage boy, Peter found it very pretty but that's beside the point.

"I'd hate to make you one of them." He replied, making his voice more apologetic this time. She just shook her head in return but Peter could see a small smile on her lips.

"You're lucky I have things to tell you. But please don't make fun of this anymore. It's been more than a year but its emotional value is still really big." She said, then froze as soon as she finished, hearing the possibility for another joke. Her gaze intensified as she stared at Spider-man, daring him to make a joke. You can do it, Peter! Just ignore it! You can gloss over it, as if she never said it, you can keep it in! It's not a big deal, certainly not as big as her… FOCUS PARKER, FOCUS! Keep it in! You can do it! Deep breaths. Oh, and you should say something because it's getting awkward.

"…Anyway, …aham I have things to tell you, too." He said as restrained as he could, which he felt was pretty good given the circumstances. Also, he was glad he wore a mask. It helped him cover a lot of things.

"You must have a terrible poker-face." …Or not. Well, he couldn't prove her wrong there. His poker-face pretty much consisted of annoying jokes, the very thing she just forbade him to do. It was basically checkmate. Great, now I'm mixing games.

"So… will we continue to make fun of each other all night or are we gonna start telling each other what we came here to tell?"

"Obviously…"

"Because I'm seriously fine with either case."

"We WILL do the second one!" Betty finished, raising her voice a bit after his interruption. "And because your mouth seems to be out of control, you get to start. Or I'm demanding that interview." She said half-threateningly. Or, at least, Peter hoped she wasn't serious. But either way, she more than deserved it, so if she was serious, he wouldn't deny that from her.

He told her everything he found out since their last meeting, about Silver Sable and about his theory that she was actually some mercenary and there was someone higher-up who was really pulling all the strings. He asked her to look into these things to see if she can find out more, though he had a feeling that Silver was the sort of person who covered her traces pretty well. Even so, it was worth a shot, though he repeatedly warned Betty to be extra careful. Firstly, she shrugged it off, saying that she knows what she's doing but his persistence and his scared (but, you know, in a manly way) tone must have convinced her because she finally promised to make every possibly precaution.

When he asked her about Mr. Sandstorm (I'm gonna have to come up with a better name then that!) she was as clueless as he was but she did manage to find out about the identity of the Rhino and, consequently, the Shocker. They were apparently a group of enforcers, which basically meant that they did some muscle job for their employer. Their team also included Jackson Brice, AKA Montana, who was found dead at the scene of the two incinerated vans, where Spider-man met Betty for the first time, and Flint Marko who, according to his ex-wife, went missing around the same time.

When Peter heard how that Montana guy died, a shiver ran through his body as he suddenly felt colder. He'd known him. He'd known how he looked like, spoken with him and now even knew his name. Granted they mostly tried to capture/kill each other but he didn't want him dead. It left a mark on his psyche. But he couldn't let this effect his job, since they finally had some leads to follow.

"This… Flint Marko guy. Could he be this… "He thought about something witty but he was getting tired so he decide to give up "Sandman?"

"Yeah, maybe." Betty nodded, with slightly approving face. "My superior, Ben Ulrich thinks so too. But there isn't any record of him as a mutant."

"Yeah, but I doubt the Rhino used to have his interspecies looks. You said he was Russian, right? I haven't met many but I seriously doubt that Russians can look like that on a whim."

"You think he was modified?" She asked thoughtfully. She pondered over it for a minute then shook her head. "Even if they have that much money, no scientific method has been reported that can do something even remotely close to this."

"Well, it happened to me." Spider-man quickly countered… and then completely froze. Shit! You and your damned mouth, Peter! Why don't just give her your address!? He thought angrily. Betty just stared at him, her eyes wide. Her breath quickened a little bit and he could see that she was so eager for more information that she could barely keep her heartbeat at bay. But she visibly held herself back, closed her eyes and blew out a breath, collecting herself.

"I see." She said with a much better poker-face then Spider-man before. And she didn't even had a mask. Maybe I do suck. "Do you think that they got it the same way you did?" She asked. It was subtle but Peter understood that she didn't give up on finding out more about him. And he could also see that she was a bit… concerned. Which made sense, given that if they really got their powers from the same place it could mean that Spider-man was actually working with them and all those battles were just for show. And that would mean that her life was all but over. It was a reasonable suspicion but it hurt him nonetheless. He has been accused of various things by various people but he had started to consider Betty a friend so this was different. It was a real eye-opener. They weren't at that level yet. Which was, again, reasonable since he was always so secretive about himself with her. It's hard to build trust on that.

"No, I don't think so. In my case, it was an accident. With something experimental." He said slowly, choosing to reveal some more in hopes of gaining some of her trust back. It felt hard to reveal even this much and it made him dizzy for second. But, apparently, it worked.

"Sticking to the classics, eh?" Betty asked with a coy smile, her eyes were still beaming with excitement from the revelations. Though she didn't let it hinder their work. "But, in that case, artificial modification is obtainable with enough money which they obviously have. It would certainly explain why they only started to appear recently. And it puts Flint Marko as suspect number one." She continued, nodding to herself as the tension faded from her body. She believed him! Even though he had barely given any reason to trust him, she had believed him. In some deeper level, he knew that she should be more cautious but it still made him happy. He had been lacking that lately.

"Yeah. But even if they have some method that can create these powers, they must have someone who can properly make use of it." He said, refocusing his thoughts. "I mean, even that exoskeleton the Rhino wears looks complicated enough that only handful of people could make something like that in the whole world." He mused, thinking of potential candidates.

"Actually, I think we already found the one behind it." Betty said suddenly at took out her phone from her enormous hoodie. She unlocked it and taped it a few times before showing him a photo of an older man exiting a diner, carrying a bag in his left hand. "That's…"

"Doctor Connors!" Spider-man exclaimed, instantly recognizing him even without seeing his missing right arm.

"…You know him?"

"Of him. He's a famous professor at E.S.U. He and his wife had made some groundbreaking contributions on the field of biochemistry." He explained then realized that Betty probably already knew all that. But he was unsure how he was connected to any of this. "From what I know about him, he basically designated his whole life to the benefit of humanity. Just now, he's reportedly working on a method that can regenerate cells." Hey, Peter, tone down the fanboyism. "My point is, he isn't the kind of guy who would help criminals become supervillains."

"Normally, I would say that money can buy a lot things…" Betty said, looking a bit weird at Spider-man, probably because of his outburst. "But I'm afraid there's another reason behind his help." Then, she told him about what she'd learned from Ben Ulrich and what she and Ned found out in the past week. They even tried to get an interview with him but he hurriedly declined. Same with the police, who couldn't do anything with the lack of evidence. She then, swiped to another photo showing a young man in sunglasses not far from Doctor Connors. Then a different photo, at a different place with the same man, and so on. "Me and Ned kept our distance ever since. We fear that more questions would just endanger his and his family's life even further."

"Hence, why you wanted to talk to me."

"Yeah, but I don't exactly have your phone number so I could just mostly wait. I tried to think of some signal but I wasn't sure…"

"You should just hang something out from your window. Something I'd definitely see, something huge and of unremarkable color so it's not too conspicuous. But what could it be…"

"… You promised."

"What? I didn't say anything wrong. Why, did you think of something?"

"Ah… fine just stop it already." Betty said a little dejectedly, while Peter was kind of proud of himself that he could actually keep restrain himself for so long. I need to get better goals. "But, more importantly, could you find a way to make contact with Dr. Connors? Discreetly! His home is being watched so I don't think that's good. Maybe…"

"I can find a way." He said, and started to feel like an asshole for always interrupting her. But he suddenly remembered Liz's invitation for the E.S.U. open day. Making contact with him as Peter Parker is surely less conspicuous then doing it as Spider-man, though it was certainly dangerous. But he could work up a plan by tomorrow.

"You sure? Do you need help?" Betty asked. It didn't seem like she was doubting his ability but rather that she actually wanted to help. It made Peter smile under his mask.

"It's better if you don't get involved too closely. No sense in widening the target radar of the enemy." He said, hoping to sound cool which mostly turned to a weird mumbling.

"Yeah… okay, you're right." She sighed then hesitated and eventually stretched out her hand, placing it on his. "Thanks… for helping out." She said sincerely.

"You're welcome, fellow cosplayer!" He said in a cheerful voice. Betty just rolled her eyes and smiled, a motion that was getting disturbingly habitual for her. Wonder what the cause.

After they said their goodbyes and separated, Peter started to think about the next day. It was good that he finally had some leads to follow but… I have to hang around with Flash and co. Oh well, at least Liz's gonna be there so it might be fun. Yeah, fun, fun, fun! It'll absolutely be fun.

"Go and have fun!" Schultz rasped to his friend as they stood in a heavily lit street in downtown Manhattan. Well, Schultz was standing while Flint was… keeping his sand particles in one place. After his escape, he tried question his thought-to-be-dead teammate but, apparently not only did he lose the ability to speak, he was also unable to take solid form for more than a few seconds. So they had to communicate with basic signs and gestures, which can only get you so far. According to him, Flint could hear, see, smell, feel and even taste, though that last one only became apparent after they raided a convenience store (where they stripped the salesclerk from his clothes, which Schultz now was wearing). In the end, he couldn't find out where Flint was since the Goblin's attack but he was probably trying to piece himself back together, just in a more literal sense. He did ask how he got these powers but the semi-human shape just shrugged. He also had to wonder if there were other changes to him, like it was with Alex. As far as Schultz could tell, he was the same as before if one didn't count his bodiless form. Still, it was something he would look out for.

But those worries were for later times, as they had more urgent matters. Or more precisely, Schultz had. After gearing up with some hidden stack of weapons (nothing much, just a sawed off double barreled shotgun, and a pair of Glocks) they headed straight to where they'd certainly fond someone who could point them in the right direction; Hammerhead's club. It was closed for a few days after Spider-man's attack but since then it has been reopened and reequipped with some higher security against sneaky break-ins. Good thing they weren't planning to be sneaky.

The parking lot before the building had slightly more cars then it usually does, which meant that Hammerhead had some company. And by the limousine, Schultz had a pretty good guess who. This day just keeps getting better! But it also meant that they were expecting them and probably barricaded themselves in with lots of armed goons. So, despite wanting to wreak havoc himself, Schultz sent Flint in first who was less like to have problem with bullets.

His friend seemed nearly as eager as he was, as, instead of slipping in through the cracks, he formed into a giant fist and full on broke in the front doors. Gunfire immediately erupted but wasn't even a hindrance as he just walked forward, letting the bullets pass through his incorporeal body. Flint extended his arms which elongated in a really creepy fashion and knocked out two gourds, then continued his march in. Shultz followed only to see more goons getting knocked out. He noted that none of the blows were meant to kill, which eased his heart a little. When his daughter was threatened he completely lost control but as soon as the stakes were back to normal, he reverted to his old self. It gave him hope.

Through their ascend to the first floor, Schultz didn't have an opportunity to use his guns but that changed when they got Hammerheads office. Flint shifted and swirled, slamming into a trio of heavily armed guards, that looked way more professional that the one below, then tried to knock down the door for the office, but it seems it had been changed since the last time they were here, now being made out of reinforced steel. That didn't stop them however, as Flint just simply did what did when freeing Schultz from his prison, moving his particles fast enough to cut through the lock. But when he did, a sudden shockwave hit him, blowing him away and making him fall to pieces, unable to reshape himself. Schultz immediately raised the double barrel, as he still wasn't feeling very good so he couldn't trust his aim with a pistol.

The office was crammed with people. Six military type guards were aiming at the door with FN SCARs in their hands, looking like they were perfectly accustomed to use it. Directly behind them was standing Hammerhead with his arms crossed and scowling furiously, probably because the damage they caused to his club. Further away, in Hammerhead's chair sat Silver Sable, completely disinterested and sporting her usual cold expression. And right at the front, before the guards stood… Deadboy! Wearing HIS gauntlets. You are so dead!

"I came to kill you." Schultz said in a whisper, trying to suppress his fury but it still leaked out.

"Oh yeah, puta? You and what army?" Deadboy boosted, with a slightly breaking voice. He was trying to look confident but his shaking knees betrayed him.

"Just me. But believe, even if I'm shot to shreds, I'm gonna drag your fucking corps to hell with me." He snarled, the intensity of his tone surprising even him. Somehow, it made the Latino frightened, causing him to aim the gauntlet towards his head. You're not holding a gun, ass. Interestingly, even the soldier-like thugs tensed up a little bit, and so did Hammerhead, as if afraid of Schultz. Or maybe because he just looked like a raging mad man. The only one who remained entirely calm was Silver Sable.

Then he heard a familiar hissing sound, and from the corner of his eyes he could see, Flint rising in a humanoid shape with spheres of sand moving around him non-stop. Practically everyone's attention turned toward him, except Sable's but there wasn't any firing. It would have been useless. Even Deadboy had to be careful since his previous shot was mostly thanks to the element of surprise. Considering the display of power his friend showed at the construction site, Schultz felt pretty confident.

"Do you think you can win?" Asked Sable suddenly from her seat, tilting her to the left but keeping her face expressionless. Surprisingly, her tone didn't contain mocking, but genuine curiosity, albeit not much of it… Do I?

"Since I just want to kill this guy, yeah." He replied nonchalantly.

"Just… him?"

"Yes." He replied annoyed… and snapped his mouth shut in shock. Because what he said, he said it honestly. But why!? Even thought, that guy didn't do all those things on his own initiative, even though he was supposed to be angry at the woman behind the desk, he just… wasn't. Why!? He wondered frantically and locked his gaze with Sable's. The woman who caused much of his misery… and the woman who cared for him he was feeling nothing but pain and made it go away, the woman who fed him and cleaned him, the only one who made him feel relieved during the last few days. And suddenly he understood.

He whirled his gun away from Deadboy, taking aim at Sable's head and gritted his teeth. The six soldiers who had been focused on Flint suddenly turned their assault rifles towards him and even Hammerhead produced a pistol from somewhere, pointing it at him. Flint moved slightly before him, as if getting ready to absorb the bullets but luckily nobody started to shoot. And the all the while, Schultz just glared at his former boss while clenching his jaw so much that it started to become painful. She maintained her usual cold expression but her eyes studied him intently. I should just shoot her! I should blow her manipulative brains out! He wanted to want it but he… just didn't. Because no matter how much he understood that this was her plan all along, that his subconscious has been manipulated, the fact was that it worked. He didn't want to kill her. DAMN THAT FUCKING BITCH!

He slowly lowered the gun, with his shaking and let out a sigh. A small smile appeared on the corner of Sable's mouth but it disappeared just as quickly. Then she nodded while her right hand slipped into the sleeve of her white blouse. From anyone else, it would have been an innocent movement, but...

The knife flew out so fast that Schultz didn't even have time to react… and neither did Deadboy whose right leg suddenly jerked away in pain, while scarlet blood stained the walls. He fell to the ground and just stared in shock before letting out a pained howl. The end of the knife was sticking out of the back of his knee.

When Schultz caught up with the quick turn of events, he stepped forward and kicked Deadboy in his stomach with all the force his legs could carry. The man let out a choking sound and stopped screaming. Schultz glanced around only to see the guards lower their weapons calmly, as if they were already expecting this outcome. So I'm still playing your game, bitch. But, at that moment, he didn't care. He crouched down and started to take down the gauntlets for himself. Deadboy tried to resist but he just got kicked in the face. When he was done, he slipped his hands into them, finding comfort in the familiar feeling. Then he aimed them at the man on the ground who looked back at him with wide and terrified eyes.

"N-no, no please. Please don't do this. It wasn't my fault, please man. I wasn't… I just… Please, I don't want to die." He begged, his overbearing attitude nowhere to be found.

"What do you hope to achieve with this?" Schultz asked, somewhat baffled. "The only hope you have is to accept the fact that you're already dead. Because you are, Deadboy." Then he aimed his gauntlet and shattered his other knee with a shockwave. The man screamed again and tried to crawl away. So Schultz fired again and broke his hands. He did that for a while, just aiming at body parts and breaking them with shockwaves, while paying attention not to kill him. He wanted him to suffer. But, it didn't take long for him, with all the pain, to lose consciousness. He wanted to continue a little but not enough to wait until he reawakened so he simply crushed his skull. It was good enough. And he turned out to be right; he did wet himself

He wasn't sure how long he tortured the guy but by the time he turned around, the guards and Hammerhead were nowhere to be seen. Flint was 'standing' beside him in a semi human shape, though his legs were merged together in a big column-like shape. Even without and apparent facial expression, he could feel his concerned look, worried about his mental well-being. That ship has already sailed, my friend.

The other still in the room was Silver Sable, who haven't moved from her seat. She glanced at the bloody corpse then back at Schultz and a cold, but somehow satisfied smile spread across her face.

"Welcome back, Mr. Schultz!"