Spiders come in different Shapes

Bullet wounds

A gasp ripped through the room. 

It was the kind of gasp that was painful to hear. A sharp noise. Airy breaths.

Annabeth froze. 

"I-I'm okay," Peter stuttered out, but beneath his stumbling fingertips was blood dripping through the bandages he once pulled so hard against his skin he thought that maybe the bullet would heal but the marks would never go away.

Ned stopped, maybe everyone else in the room was worried, but I must say, we often forget about best friends, it's the kind of thing that leaves everyone else frozen and Ned rushing over to catch Peter as he crumpled to the ground, a groan shoved down his throat. 

Ned laid him on the ground and started to pull the tip of his shirt up, Peter caught his wrist and gave the kind of look that said no. 

 Michelle stared at Peter. He was the kid that always helped, something was shoved in her heart, he was her first friend. He loved her no matter what, he put secret candy bars in her locker, and smiled and waved, he was so damn selfless. He was also sad, and broken, and scarred everywhere, even on his skin, sometimes he was the boy that came in class with a black eye, or mysterious bandages on his arms. Even then he would always smile, even if he winced through it, but the past few days, it had been like he was holding back smiling, like he was training himself to feel nothing, or not nothing, Michelle thought, to feel everything except happy. 

"What's wrong with him?" Annabeth yelled.

Michelle ran over, Michelle was scared for once in her life. 

"Ned, pull up his fucking shirt." Michelle said slowly. 

"No." 

Ned was a good friend, he was the only one who knew, knew what was at stake. But what was more at risk than Ned's best friend, he thought?

"Ned!" MJ took a deep breath. "He's dying."

A sin on his breath, he thinks, slowly, death is the kind of thing you won't get over. It doesn't heal, he thought, it doesn't disappear in the morning, it doesn't make other clean up your blood as you sob out a story of why. 

Death isn't nightmares, it's heaven. 

I'm sorry it's short, but I was reading some Skip and Peter fanfiction, and can I just say...HOLY SHIT I CAN'T EVEN. So i've hit writers block with my suckiness.