By Moonlight (P.P + M.J)

10. Myth No More

Peter lay across the backseat of Aunt May's car. Whatever she was telling him, Peter didn't hear a word it. He was so spaced out that he could barely understand her. With the mixture of his exhaustion and a pounding headache, he was surprised he hadn't passed out by now.

"Peter, you never told me who did this," May said, Peter focusing just enough to where he could make out her words.

But how could he explain? It wasn't particularly like the last time he'd fought a powerful villain. At least the Vulture had been human, and it's not like he had actual wings. But Peter had just faced a real live werewolf. No costume or robotics. Just strictly flesh that turned to fur. It was like the Hulk, but much, much weirder. Because instead of becoming a big green rage monster, the thief had become a big... wolf. He felt silly just thinking it, let alone saying it.

"Just some thugs, May," Peter lied, thinking she'd never believe him if he told her the truth. Even in a world full of superheroes with different powers, fighting a mythological creature seemed like a stretch.

The only one he could think to tell was Ned. He usually seemed to be on board with most of Peter's adventures. Besides, Ned enjoyed talking about Spiderman and his antics more than Peter did.

Maybe if he gave his best friend a call, and told him what happened, he would meet him at his apartment in the morning. Peter just really needed someone to talk to, as well as a good night's sleep.

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*Werewolf's pov*

After tossing the pesky superhero clear into the road, the lycan didn't wait for him to swing back. He jumped off the building, landing with a thud, and hightailed it as fast as possible. Making sure to stick to the shadows, he tried to be stealthy but as quick as possible at the same time.

He crossed a bridge, keeping to the railings that hung over the busy roads. He hoped nobody would see him from his place above the street. He remembered how easy it was to just take the bus to Coney Island, and he would've taken it back if that blasted Spiderman hadn't shown up and made everything difficult.

Brushing the thought away, he made it to the outskirts of Manhattan and climbed a building, avoiding the windows, and started jumping from roof to roof as he made his way through downtown. He was heading for one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city, rivaled only by the Avengers Tower.

He stopped at one of the neighboring buildings and looked up. The Oscorp building was particularly daunting at night, but most of the office lights were off. Except for the middle layer of windows, where the science labs were located. He had to climb that whole way, just like always, and hope that no night tour helicopters were out. He always thought that he'd be a sight to see during a tour.

The lycan adjusted the now-smaller backpack on his shoulders. He was impressed with the straps, surprised that they had held together so long. He'd have to write the company that made it a good review.

He crouched on all fours and gathered strength, eventually launching himself across the street and sidewalk. He landed on a window pane with a thud, and prayed he didn't create a crack. When he saw that he hadn't, since he had landed on steel siding, he was careful to strategically place his claws on the jutting-out steel beams that criss-crossed the building. Following his usual routine, he scaled the tower easily, his piercing blue eyes locked on the lit windows.

Eventually, the lycan reached a window, and saw that it was open slightly like always. He pushed it wide with a dainty paw, being dutiful to not scratch the glass. He lifted himself through the window and hopped inside the bare room, furnished with a solitary bench and a single lamp for light. He snorted and shook his head, some stray hairs flying off his thick black pelt. He looked to the bench and saw a white tee shirt and gray sweatpants, along with some shabby brown sandals and underwear. He had always had a back-up pair of clothes in this room if he ever needed them.