Spider-Man: Fear Itself

Chapter 8

The gathering of heroes stood outside a makeshift command center in a cleared lot in Midtown, the city's towering skyline casting long shadows in the fading afternoon light. The Avengers and the Fantastic Four, along with various other heroes, were reeling from the grim situation. But amidst the strategic discussions about Mysterio's gas, something else weighed heavily on their minds—the distance between them and Spider-Man, which had never felt more palpable.

Steve Rogers, Carol Danvers, and Tony Stark exchanged glances as they saw Spider-Man approaching from the shadows, his posture stiff, his mask hiding the expression they all wished they could see.

"Spider," Steve began, stepping forward, his voice calm but insistent. "We need to talk."

Spider-Man paused but didn't acknowledge Steve beyond a sharp tilt of his head. "What's there to talk about? We've got a city to save."

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I get it. You're hurt. We screwed up. Big time. But you've gotta understand—we didn't mean for it to get this bad."

Carol stepped in, her voice softer. "You do matter to us, Spider-Man. You always have. We're all just realizing we didn't show it nearly enough."

Spider-Man turned slowly, his mask reflecting the city lights, but the bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. "Really? You value me?" He let out a cold, humorless laugh, one that made several of the heroes shift uncomfortably. "You sure about that? Because last time I checked, I've spent more time fighting for this city alone while you all deal with your cosmic battles and hellish galas."

Natasha Romanoff stepped forward, her tone even and sincere. "We're not just saying this because of what's happening now. We should've been better. But we want to make things right—"

"Make things right?" Spider-Man interrupted, his voice sharp. "You can't make things right by just saying you care. You didn't see me as part of the team when it mattered, and now that I'm walking away, now you're realizing how much I did? It's too late for this conversation."

Susan Richards stepped in, her voice trembling just slightly. "Spider-Man... we know we failed you. But we've always seen you as family. You've been there for us—for Franklin, for Valeria—"

Spider-Man's bitter laugh cut her off. "Family? No, Sue, I'm not family. I was the guy you called when no one else could be bothered. I was the one filling the gaps Reed left behind."

Susan's breath caught at his words, the truth of it hitting her hard. She glanced at Reed, who remained silent, his arms crossed as his brilliant mind struggled to find the right words.

But Spider-Man didn't wait for more. He turned to leave, shaking his head. "Save your breath. I've heard enough."

Just as he was about to walk away, a small voice cut through the tension. "Spidey... wait!"

Spider-Man froze. He knew that voice. Turning, he saw Franklin and Valeria standing a few feet behind him, both of them with tear-filled eyes. Franklin's lip trembled as he spoke again, his voice shaking. "We... we never meant to hurt you."

Valeria nodded quickly, her own voice barely above a whisper. "You're... you're our favorite. You've always been there for us. We didn't know... we didn't know you felt like this."

Spider-Man's posture softened for the first time since he'd arrived, the cold exterior slipping just enough for the pain beneath it to show. He knelt down to their level, his tone gentler, but still firm. "Hey, hey. Don't cry, okay?" He placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "This isn't on you two. At no point do I blame either of you for any of this."