Spiderkid oneshots

Evil Peter

Peter was sitting in a chair in the middle of a huge room. The chair though looked more like a throne. It was made of spiders and you could see them moving, but not interrupting the formation of the throne. The boy himself was reading a book. It was a thick one, in brown leather covers, and whatever was written in it was written in an ancient language. He was wearing black jeans and a black blouse, black leather boots, and a cape, black with red spider webs creeping over it. The boy's face was covered in spider webs as well. It was a strange sight, but no one would see it.

The room was dark because it was found under rubbles, and rubbles of an abandoned, collapsed warehouse. No one except the boy had stepped a foot in it since it collapsed. Peter remembered that day. Fighting the Vulture, winning so he could prove to Tony he wasn't useless. That day felt an eternity old even though only five years had passed. So much had changed in those five years.

May had died when a villain that wasn't worth the time of the world's greatest and mightiest heroes killed her. Both his parents died, and his uncle died because of a theorist attack on a plane and a robber holding a gun on the street it was too insignificant for The Avengers.

At first, the naïve kid he used to be thought, that it was just a coincidence, they couldn't be everywhere at once. But then he moved in with them and found out the truth. They weren't even trying. The only thing they did was train, and joke around waiting for something worth their attention. While people were dying every day, they were waiting for big enough of a threat to go and do something.

But he wasn't like them. He was trying to help people. Every day of the week the boy would jump out of the window wearing his blue and red suit, trying his very best to save everybody. The people in fires, the people being robbed, the people being murdered. He tried and for that, he was called useless. The heroes he had looked up to laughed at him every time he returned injured from 'not a real battle', they would call him a burden to all of them, they would call him useless, a waste of space, and then they would beat him up saying that it's practice or training.

And one day he had enough. Some only then finding out why he was leaving, meanwhile, some laughed at him as he left. He got here. From some of his spider friends, he got some books from here and there. From some other friend he had met he got some more. And he read, and read, and learned, and trained, for four years.

Now he was ready. Ready come out of the rubble. Ready to get his revenge. Ready to fight, people who considered themselves unbeatable. The boy closed the book. He already knew everything in it from the top of his head. Peter stood up and slowly made his way to the stairs that were covered in dust, walked up, and for the first time in four years he saw the moon.

Peter moved quietly through the loud night of New York jumping from buildings, swinging with webs, merging with the darkness. When he reached the tower, he looked at it and a smile appeared on his face, a nostalgic one, and a smile that a spider gives a fly that is caught in its webs.

As he used to the boy climbed up the building swiftly. The window was closed. It always was opened when he still lived here. Not a problem. Quick head movements and there was a portal that looked more like a black hole. Diving in it and landing with a somersault on the ground. Of course, there was no security. Who could even dear to get into the tower with all of them? They weren't scared of anybody. Peter was going to change that.

Everybody was still asleep, and Peter made himself a cup of hot chocolate, which the spiders couldn't bring him, and took his place on the couch slowly sipping the beverage. After about an hour the sun rose and after another two Peter got on the ceiling. The boy did that right on time. After a few minutes, the room started filling up by the team. He was going to wait for everybody who hurt him to get here. After half an hour everybody was here, laughing and eating breakfast.