NOWHERE LEFT • Peter Parker

twenty four •

"You're okay. We're okay."

June 2025

The air was warm and humid causing Cecilia's suit to stick to her skin and sweat to drip down her neck. Water leaked from old pipes onto the concrete leaving small puddles next to every door, and gasoline that had seeped from cars pooled in them leaving behind its smell.

Peter and Cecilia stood at the roof entrance, both suited up and ready for a fight. Except for Spider-Man who was watching his partner's every move, she hadn't uttered a word in the several minutes they'd been standing there. He was left to assume she was listening for her father, trying to establish if they truly were in the right place.

Cecilia could smell her father's blood, it didn't matter what else was going on she'd always know that scent. It was something that splattered the floorboards of her childhood home, no matter how hard they scrubbed it seeped into the wood and would forever remain.

There were several heartbeats in the room, too many to distinguish what was her father's and what wasn't, especially with Fisk's voice echoing through the space.

"This is it," She whispered sparing quick glance at the boy next to her. His mask was on so she couldn't see his eyes but she could feel his concern from his body language and the thumping of his heart.

He knew there was no talking her out of this, she'd go in there with or without him, and he knew he could never live with himself if he let her go in alone, so he swallowed the lump in his throat and prepared himself for what was to come.

Cecilia cracked the rooftop hatch open, light seeping out across their feet followed by murmuring voices. Before she could open it fully Peter reached out and grabbed her wrist, she lifted her eyes and raised her eyebrows waiting for some kind of explanation.

"Be careful," He whispered, his tone serious as he squeezed her wrist before pushing the hatch open and crawling through. Cecilia let him pass her as they agreed he would cause a distraction and she'd go for her dad, but she had a horrible feeling fill her as she realized she was putting Peter's life on the line with little to no hesitation.

Cecilia waited for some kind of sign, and when gunshots started ringing out she took that as the signal and started to climb down the ladder into the warehouse. Smoke filled the musty air around her making it harder for her to distinguish where her father was, or even where Peter was.

That was when she focused her ears as best she could for Fisk's voice over the yelling that had filled the space as Peter webbed men up from above leaving them stuck to the floor or walls. Cecilia stuck to the edge of the warehouse, her head down as she moved quickly and quietly through the smoke.

"Hands up!" A man shouted as he came to a stop in front of her with a pistol aimed at her face. Cecilia glared at the man but complied, her hands raised in the air but she reached out and grabbed the man's wrist twisting until she heard a crack and the gun clattered to the floor followed by the man who was screaming in pain as he clutched his broken wrist. Cecilia kicked him in the gut causing him to fall away from her before she continued towards the back room where her senses were leading her, but something felt wrong.

When Cecilia pushed the door open with her gun raised she was expecting to see Wilson Fisk standing over her father's body, but instead it was an empty room with a chair in the middle. A fresh pool of blood collected under it and a small tape recorder sat on the leather cushion, on top of the recorder was a small white piece of paper folded neatly in half.