The Masks we Hide Behind || Peter Parker [1]

thirty-seven: mads, you've done screwed up!

A loud clapping noise sounds as I drop the large, heavy bag onto the rooftop with a sigh. The boy in the red suit stares down at it for a moment, silent.

"What's this?" He asks.

"The bag. From the library. The one I was telling you about the other night."

"Oh! Right." The Spider-Man drops to his knees and begins to dig through the bag. He tosses books and journals aside, one after another and so forth. Soon, the bag is empty, and a small flash drive sits in the boy's fingers.

"It's all this boring shit, honestly. The only interesting thing in there is the flash drive, and I went through it and found that he's been logging every single thing he's been doing." I mumble.

"Logging everything?" He asks.

"Everything. The individual names of all of the people he's killed, the businesses and streets he's been tearing up, all of it." I explain and sit down with my legs crossed on the rooftop.

"Why would he be logging all of it?" He murmurs. I respond with a shrug.

"Beats me."

It falls quiet again, and I watch the Spider-Man carefully fiddle with the flash drive in his gloved fingers.

"Alright. I have a plan for tonight." I state, slowly leaning forward and beginning to place everything back into the bag.

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Alright - the camera's obviously are recording visual and possibly audio, right? Well, he definitely knows that his bag was stolen. So, I can bring it and drop it there, and the cameras will record the whole thing. Maybe he'll show up." I explain.

"Maybe?" He asks. I roll my eyes underneath my mask. "I'm just kidding. Yeah, good plan, let's do it. Hopefully he shows up, since we'll be together and stuff." He adds awkwardly.

"Right." I grin underneath the fabric and we both reach to unzip the bag, our hands landing on top of another. We both quickly yank our hands back, staring at each other awkwardly before bursting into laughter. I zip up the bag and sling the strap over my shoulder, my toes curling around the edge of the rooftop.

I take one step off of the rooftop and release one of my webs, slinging down across the street as quickly as I can, trying to keep up with the Spider-Man. The bag weighs me down, but I don't mind. Nervousness churns in the pit of my stomach, and it's like as soon as we leave, we arrive at the warehouse. My feet are suddenly planted on the concrete, and we're standing right in front of Avalanche's warehouse.

"Alright," I sigh, shifting my weight. "here we are."

"You okay?" The Spider-Man asks, tilting his head as he glances at me.

"Yeah. I will be. Let's just get this over with." I mutter before making my way on foot to the front doors of the warehouse. The Spider-Man lingers close behind as I open the door slowly, almost wincing as it creaks loudly. I make eye contact with the Spider-Man under my mask briefly before he slowly brushes past me, awkwardly patting his hand on my shoulder as he does so.

I chuckle briefly before silently following him into the center of the large warehouse. It's silent, and empty. The Spider-Man and I stand in the center of the floor, turning slowly, scanning the building for anything suspicious.

"Here you go, Lance!" I shout, letting the bag fall to the floor with a loud smack. "It's all yours."

It's silent. The Spider-Man and I nervously make eye contact.

"Well, just remember," I mutter, turning to him, eyeing his arms. "if this plan doesn't work, I didn't think it up."

The Spider-Man chuckles. Holy damn. His laugh. "Right, okay."