Spider-Man: Fear Itself

Chapter 4

Johnny Storm sat on a rooftop, legs dangling over the edge as he stared out over the city. The wind rustled his hair, but his usual cocky grin was absent. He took a sip of his drink and sighed, waiting for his companion to speak.

Next to him, Logan—Wolverine—was quiet, his brow furrowed as he took in everything Johnny had just told him. They weren't exactly best friends, but in their years of fighting alongside each other, they'd grown a strange kind of understanding. Johnny had sought Logan out today for one reason: Peter.

Johnny finally broke the silence. "So, what do you think? Peter's pulling away from all of us. Says he's tired of being treated like he's just some street-level hero, never one of the real 'team.' He quit the Avengers, doesn't want anything to do with the X-Men either. Hell, he's been keeping his distance from the Fantastic Four. He's done with all of us."

Logan grunted, leaning back against the ledge. "That's a load of crap. I've fought beside Parker enough times to know he's respected. Guy's one of the best we've got. If he's feeling like that, it's in his head."

Johnny shrugged, tossing a small flame between his fingers absentmindedly. "Maybe. But... I dunno, man. He's serious. He quit the Avengers. Said he doesn't feel like he's one of us. Like he's just a 'fill-in' whenever we need someone. I thought it was nonsense too, but he's not messing around."

Logan scoffed, taking a swig from the beer bottle in his hand. "Parker's always been a bit too self-sacrificing for his own good. He's saved the city more times than I can count. If he's feeling underappreciated, he's not seeing the bigger picture."

But as soon as Logan said it, something nagged at the back of his mind. He'd fought with the Avengers plenty of times, but he had also seen how some of the higher-ups—particularly people like Stark—tended to view Peter. He wasn't given the same level of responsibility or respect, despite all the heavy lifting Spider-Man did.

Logan grunted again, trying to push the thought aside. "Look, the Avengers are a tough crowd, but no one thinks Spider-Man's just some small-time player. He's earned his place."

"Has he, though?" Johnny shot back, eyes narrowing. "Because that's not what it looks like from where he's standing. He's been fighting alongside all of us for years, but no one ever really treats him like an equal. When you're off saving the world, who's down here in the streets? When we're at the Hellfire Gala, partying it up with the mutants, who's out there protecting the city? Peter."

Logan opened his mouth to dismiss the point, but Johnny's words hit harder than expected. He remembered the Hellfire Gala, the lavish event where all the major players in the mutant world and beyond mingled. Peter hadn't been invited, but it hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time. He was Spider-Man, sure, but it was easy to think of him as separate from the "big leagues."

And Logan remembered something else—a detail that gnawed at him. That night at the Gala, while they were all sipping Krakoan wine and showing off mutant technology, a serious threat had attacked the city. Logan had heard about the aftermath, about how Spider-Man had been the one leading the charge, swinging across the city to save lives while the elite superheroes were too busy with their political posturing and mutant pride.

Logan had been out in the streets that night too—fighting, trying to contain the chaos—but he'd been out there alone. No backup from the Avengers, no support from the X-Men. It had been him, Spider-Man, and the people of New York. No fancy suits, no godlike powers. Just grit.

Logan took another swig of his beer, the memory hitting harder now. He hadn't thought much of it at the time—he'd always been more of a lone wolf—but now, looking back, he couldn't help but see how that night had underscored Peter's point.