From Midnight to Dawn

Dusk

Peter started community patrol by the start of his second week at Stark Academy. It took that long to get into the rhythm of things at school with his general morning classes, which consisted of everything from history, grammar, culture, and even learning second languages. That didn't include getting his lab setup to focus on improving his webbing chemical compound and getting caught up on three months' worth of past due homework and lessons.

Thankfully, he found periods of time in the evenings when Harley and Ned were busy with their labs, and he wouldn't be noticed as missing in action. He tried to be back by 11:00 every night, right around the time Harley would trudge in from his lab, and they'd stay up for several hours on end to chat about their work, and combine their skills on re-engineering the world's most scientifically advanced toaster.

Peter hung his legs off the edge of a fire escape in the heart of Queens, eating a sub sandwich under his spider-skull bandana, huddling for warmth in his black hoodie and jeans. A sunset cascaded New York in warm light, which his bare feet and hands were grateful to have as the only source of warmth.

"Peter, may I request you put on a pair of socks and gloves the next time you go on patrol? Given your body's mimicry of a cold-blooded arachnid, you put yourself at unnecessary risk for hypothermia. Colder months should be handled with extreme caution." Karen said, blinking underneath the dark black fabric of his sleeve.

Sighing, Peter finished off the last of his sub, tossing it from his position on the roof, hitting the nearby dumpster with ease. He reached for a glass bottle of cherry soda out of his backpack, flushing at the hand-drawn smiley-face and the "You can do it!" message written on the side from Ms. Potts.

"My hands and feet won't stick to stuff through regular fabric. I'd rather be a little cold than fall to my death," Peter said, popping the top to his soda and sipping its rich contents with a broad smile on his face.

For a Monday, it'd been the best Monday of Peter's life in as far back as he could remember. He and Harley aced their morning exams, Ned had bought them all a brand new video game they were going to play later that weekend, and Harry hadn't been in the dorm all day, stuck at some Oscorp Conference for the rest of the week.

Indeed, it was a day of kings.

Of course, having an epic patrol helped his mood even more. He'd stopped a car accident from happening, helped some firefighters clear the way for a rescue, and also webbed up a couple of FISK goons that were harassing a store owner. The best part, to Peter anyway, was only three people ran away screaming at the sight of Spider-Thief, and nobody had called the cops on him! So yeah, there was that.

Peter's wide grin could be seen all the way through his bandanna.

"I feel as though you do not understand the gravity of the situation. Shall I show you archived photos of hypothermic amputation? You seem to respond well to fact and logic, despite your stubborn nature."

Peter rolled his eyes. "No, Karen! I do not need to see surgically detached limbs thank you very little!"

"Then we should-" Karen paused, as a buzzing alert vibrated from the band, about the same time as Peter shuddered from overstimulation of white noise in the air. "Peter, I've picked up a woman's scream about 2 blocks away from here. A man is fleeing from the scene and will be in our vicinity within a few minutes. Preliminary data from Stark Satellites show that it was a non-violent crime, though there was a brief altercation. Lethal force is not permitted. Shall we engage, or should I inform the authorities? No combat data is available at this point."

"What? Are you kidding? Of course, we're going! I'm on a roll here, Karen! Let's go kick some butt!" Peter chugged the last of his soda, hopping off the fire escape, and free-falling down the 10-story building. He caught himself with a web shortly before hitting the ground, tossing the glass bottle into a recycling bin. Cracking his knuckles, Peter flung out his bare hand, attaching a web to a nearby building, and swinging into the air.