I shamelessly beg for comments/reviews.

Here's a little sort-of-comedy to cheer ya'll up after…. ehm.

So, basically, the whole idea started from how easy it is to be misunderstood. I'm sure we've all felt that way at some time or another. But no one in superhero history has it worse than Spidey. The mask, and the fact that no one knows anything about him, certainly doesn't help.

So I thought, what if the Avengers get the absolute worst idea about Spider-Man? Just how off from the truth can the misunderstandings go? Pretty far, it turns out. The story wound up making me want to pull out my hair and laugh at the same time.

This is more on the comic compliant side, though you don't have to have read the comics to understand.

This'll be a 2 or 3 shot fic, depending on the reaction.

In retrospect, hitting Ironman in the head with a metal rod wasn't one of Spider-Man's best ideas. Contrary to the billionaire's press name, the suit was certainly not made of iron, and could easily take on heavy artillery. So a torn off aluminum chair leg was laughable really.

But the infamous wallcrawler hardly had the chance to ponder his life decisions as he found himself on the unfortunate end of a city-wide manhunt for yours truly. He hadn't a clue why, and wasn't given much of a chance to ask.

He was already in a bad mood as it was. He'd been too late to stop a murder. At around three in the morning, Peter's slightly enhanced senses picked up the unmistakable scent of blood. The fresh trail led him to a dark alley where he found the body of a young woman.

What the young man would give if he could find who was responsible for this. Enhanced senses or not, Peter was not bitten by a radioactive bloodhound. It wasn't the first time he found himself wishing he were, and he doubted it'd be the last. He found her phone, left in the untouched purse that had fallen a dozen feet from her, and called the police.

It was as he was swinging back to his modest apartment, beating himself up over being too late to save another life, that his sixth sense rattled lightly in the back of his skull. Experience told him that he was being followed. He didn't hesitate to pick up his pace before taking a sharp turn and melting into the shadows on the brick wall of an old coffee shop, a small hope that it was the mystery murderer weighing on his mind.

Pete's never that lucky.

The figure that followed Peter's original path, dashing from rooftop to rooftop, was far enough that Peter couldn't make out much more than a silhouette. Peter would have been clueless as to just who this decidedly man was if it weren't for the familiar shape strapped to his back.

The nerd in Peter immediately imagined in the colors he knew were there. Good old Captain America with his mighty shield. Spider-Man rubbed at the back of his mask and almost laughed with relief. It's just a friend.

Granted, he and Cap hadn't really interacted much outside of a few mutual team ups to help take down a rogue robot or something similar. But they're all superheroes, right?! There's no need for bonding time! They all just kind of get each other.

Pete crawled forward lazily, words to tease Cap for chasing a spider on the tip of his tongue, when the man in question slid to a stop on a nearby roof and rose a hand to his earpiece. "You got a location, Stark? I lost him."

Peter paused, thinking this'll be good. He could just barely make out the answer despite the sluggish traffic below at this late hour. "Hold on a sec, I'm too far to get a clear reading. You sure lost him fast. What's the point in all those morning runs if you can't make a proper chase?"

Steve huffed. "Spider-Man swings on webs, Stark. I'd like to see you tail him out of the suit."

"Excuses, excuses… hold on… shit, he's 30 yards away! Check your 3 o'clock!"

Captain America bodily swerved to face Peter, who instinctively cringed as his spider sense picked up again. Something wasn't right. Cap raised his hands to cup his mouth. "Spider-Man!"

Peter warily stayed right where he was. He tried to keep the tension out of his voice as he shouted back. "Hey Cap! What's up?"

Cap hesitated as though he was surprised that the webslinger answered. Why did Cap look nervous? "I need to talk to you! Could you come over here?"

Spider-Man had far too many close calls to learn that his spider sense was extremely reliable. Captain may be a friend, but Spidey knew better than to ignore his instincts. He could hear Ironman's propulsors steadily grow closer. "Could I put a raincheck on that? I have work in the morning, and I was actually heading back home." Why oh why did he think signing up for physics 2 at seven in the morning was a good idea?

Ironman made his appearance then, having settled for hovering a dozen feet to the side of his teammate. Peter could swear that the man's metallic voice bounced off the walls. "This can't wait, web-head. We need you to come to the tower. Now."

If Peter didn't have a spider sense, he would have done just that because he trusted the Avengers. But it was slowly picking up in intensity and all Peter could do was back away. Something was very wrong. He was about to apologize and excuse himself when the low ringing in his head grew triple fold. Pete just barely rolled out of the way of the tranq arrow which imbedded itself in the wall right where he clung moments before.

Earlier

Clint rubbed his eyes in disbelief. "Run that by me again."

Tony scowled at the archer. "Jarvis, loop the audio."

The hidden speakers within the main living room blared Tony's voice, repeating what he said moments before, causing all present Avenger members to flinch.

"The police are finding blood drained bodies all over the city… The police are finding blood drained bodies all over the city… The police are finding blood drained bodies all over the city… The police are f-"

Clint cried, "Ok! I got it!"

Jarvis immediately stopped the recording. "My apologies, sir."

Steve stood from his previous position on the couch. "How many bodies? Are we looking at a gang or one serial killer?"

Tony opted to sit down. "Six casualties so far."

Bruce sighed. "That many in one night? It has to be a gang."

Tony glared at the plush carpet below him. "Apparently it's been going on for weeks. They've been hiding it to avoid a mass panic. I only just got the call from the FBI a few minutes ago because apparently they only just now realized that they were out of their depth."

Natasha tilted her head. "So we're looking at an individual."

"Most likely."

"What else do we know?"

Tony rubbed his chin slowly. "There were puncture marks on the neck of the victims, like a bite, and every scene had claw marks on the walls."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "Claw marks? That doesn't sound like a human being was responsible."

"It wouldn't, the marks were even on brick walls. The only problem is that the teeth marks match up with a human."

Steve folded his arms. "So we're dealing with an enhanced. Someone strong who…" he shivered. "drinks blood…"

Tony nodded, gesturing to the empty space in front of them. "Jarvis, display the images."

Holographic displays of the crime scenes immediately filled the space in front of them.

Clint sucked in a breath before jumping to his feet and pointing to one of the pictures. It was a brick wall with long gashes along the side. "Doesn't this look weird to you?" Clint gestured, arms waving frantically.

The soldier's eyebrows furrowed. "Whoever did this was very strong. Those are deep."

Clint groaned. "No! No, this-" he pointed to one of the higher gashes. "This has to be at least ten feet off the ground."

"If I may," Jarvis cut in. "Knowing the size of a brick, I can estimate that the mark Mr. Barton has pointed out is just over twelve feet off the ground."

"Thank you! Jarvis…" Clint huffed.

Nat raised an amused brow. "That would be a very tall person."

"Or," Clint said, closing the image. "It could be someone who walks on walls."

Utter silence filled the room.

Steve shifted to one foot uncomfortably. "You… You aren't suggesting that-"

Clint held firm. "Do you have any better ideas? Spider-Man is literally part spider. And he admit that he's still learning things about his abilities. Who's to say he didn't evolve a little bit more? Drinking blood is something spiders do, right?"

Bruce coughed. "Well, they also wrap their prey in webs and none of the victims-"

"Spidey's webs dissolve in an hour, remember? What if-"

"You couldn't seriously be suggesting-"

"Spidey's been fighting crime since-"

"Alright, that's enough!" Stark shouted, causing the others to break off mid-sentence. "I don't like that idea any more than the rest of you, but it's all we have and it's at least worth looking into. We'll ask him directly if he shows up tonight. Alright?"

Jarvis woke the team up at 2:37 in the morning, stating that his scanners picked up the infamous webhead streaking past the tower.

Five minutes later, anyone who had a chance of catching up to the man was high-tailing it in full suit attire. They split off in different directions, fully well knowing they were on a wild goose chase but not having much of a choice.

Steve spotted him first, sprinting after him at the highest speed the soldier dared while jumping from roof to roof. Steve thought he lost Spider-Man, until Tony was close enough for his scanners to find the wallcrawler.

He tried calling out to Spidey, only for the chatterbox to act uncharacteristically shy. After Ironman caught up to them and asked Spidey to show himself only for Spidey to stay in the shadows, Steve knew something was off.

That was when Widow, the furthest behind, spoke into the headset. Even with his slightly enhanced senses, Steve could barely make out the words with Ironman hovering next to him.

"Shit. Guys, I followed Spider-Man's path. There's another body here."

Clint cursed, and before anyone could stop him, he let an arrow fly.

Shocked by the abrupt betrayal of the Avengers, Spider-Man dodged an arrow that had been headed for his arm and booked it in the opposite direction.

Spidey did everything he could to escape in his shock. He's always been far nimbler than the others, but Ironman will always be faster. No matter how many zigzags and loops around skyscrapers Spider-Man takes, Ironman's speed and sensors kept the billionaire practically on top of the webslinger.

Spider-Man's confusion certainly wasn't helping him think through means of escape. There was only one word that kept rattling through his skull.

Why?

Why are they doing this? They've been working together for years. Why now? What changed?

After a solid five minutes of weaving between buildings without shaking his tail, he decided to ask. He swung behind a billboard and waited until Ironman was within reach before flinging himself at the man's back. He clung for dear life when Tony actually shrieked in surprise and shot off in uncoordinated tight circles.

Why would Tony act this way? Spider-Man hitched a ride on the multimillion dollar suit many times before. It was as though Tony just found out that the web slinger was the boogieman.

Pete yelped when they grazed the corner of a McDonalds. He shouted above the wind. "Why are you doing this!? I thought we were friends!"

Ironman slowed to a halt, 20 yards above the nearest building. Pete could hear Tony panting heavily inside the suit.

Stark cleared his throat. "You've been keeping some pretty big secrets, webhead. This was only a matter of time."

Pete froze in his precarious position. "You mean…"

"I got the call from the FBI just last night."

Pete felt like his chest was sunken in anguish. "The… The FBI? Would've thought it'd be SHIELD."

"It doesn't matter who told us!" Ironman strained to turn his head toward Spider-Man. "Though I'm sure SHIELD is on top of it too. Your crimes have to be taken care of. NOW. I can't believe you'd keep something like this from us for so long. We could have helped you."

Pete felt like he couldn't breathe. This is it. It's all come down to this. He had no idea Tony wanted to know who he was so badly. Sure, it's technically illegal to run from the police and be a vigilante, but that's kinda unavoidable if he wanted to keep doing the right thing. He thought they'd reached an understanding years ago. They'd help each other out, but the mask stays on. Peter guessed he'd misread Tony's intentions.

His jaw clenched in anticipation.

"I guess this is it then."

"It is."

Nothing has changed. If he has to lose his allies in the Avengers to keep May and his friends safe, then that's exactly what he's going to do. He repositioned his feet before kicking off and dropping to the city below, shoving Ironman a small distance in the process.

Peter forced himself to think objectively. Plan A: run, has failed. Time for plan B.

Spider-Man swung as low as he dared before he found the boarded off office he knew would be there. He only just managed to tear the boards off a window and hop inside before Ironman was within eyesight of the building.

Peter had never tested the limits of Tony's sensors in the Ironman suit, but he knew that heat sensors couldn't see through solid structures. He could only hope this would do the trick. That didn't stop him from tearing off the leg of one of the chairs in the waiting room he found himself in.

He held the mangled piece of metal like a miniature baseball bat, ready for anything.

Well, anything except Ironman flying straight at him by going through the freaking wall.

Pete yelped, bounced aside, and swung with all his might. His aim was true. The metal pole hit Ironman in the smack center of his head. Ironman skidded to a stop. His entirely undamaged head turned slowly to look at Spider-Man.

"…Was that a chair leg?"

Spidey glanced down at the aluminum pole in his fist, now comically bent in the shape of Ironman's head.

"Uh… no?"

Stark made a disbelieving noise. "You… You just hit me with a chair leg."

"No I didn't."

"What did you think it'd do?"

"… It was a distraction."

The slight head movement made Pete think Stark had rolled his eyes. "Uh huh, sure. From what, exactly?"

Spidey aimed his webshooters at the man's head. "This!"

He coated Ironman's metal faceplate before sealing his feet to the floor and finished it off by wrapping his arms to his sides.

Tony grunted in frustration as he tried to move. "This isn't going to end, you know. We'll stop you, one way or another. You're only delaying the inevitable."

Peter clenched his fists. So that's how it's going to be, huh? Not only were they trying to take his mask, but also put an end to Spider-Man. Well… fine. He'd faced scarier people trying to do the same.

He tried to convince himself that this didn't change anything. He'd been solo before; he could do it again. But darn it, he didn't want to do it again. It was nice to be able to rely on someone else if he got in a pickle.

Pete cringed at the thought of having to throw away the distress beacon Tony gave him a couple years back.

The things he sacrificed for the people he loves.

Spider-Man dove through the hole Ironman made and took off in a random direction. Only an amateur would head straight back to his apartment after that.

His Spidey sense suddenly blared and Spider-Man jerked to look at where he'd left Ironman only to feel Cap's shield slam into his side. Pete shouted in pain as he was flung into a wall. He tried to move only to feel his side flare up. His knees buckled and he found himself hunched over on the asphalt. That's definitely a broken rib… maybe two.

He groaned as he made to stand and gripped the wall behind him, needing it as support more than he'd like to admit.

The Captain solemnly trudged his way over. "We can't let any more lives be lost because you can't control yourself."

Peter gaped beneath the mask. He isn't perfect, he's more aware of that than anyone. He takes lives he wasn't fast enough to save very personally. The Avengers had been there now and then to assure him that it wasn't his fault. Their assurances had kept him afloat at times. Was it all a lie?

He started to think this was all some crazy nightmare.

Pete thought so much more of Captain America.

He stood as high as he could manage before he bounded up the wall. He ignored the shouting and the severe pains in his side. It was getting hard to breathe.

He dodged another arrow or two as he hurtled himself as far from the Avengers as he was physically capable. He ran and ran, and only when he was starting to think his lung was on the verge of being punctured did he head home.

He'd have to take another sick day, beg the professors for forgiveness.

The wind had never really bothered his eyes before, so why did they sting so much?