The Spider-man << Marvel Cinimatic Universe Fanfiction>>

Blue Button Up

I held the pack close to my chest, hands still trembling from the fear and excitement that had just whirled around me meer seconds before hand. My face felt numb, cheeks nipped by the wind as I sprinted down the sidewalk back to my apartment. Sirens began to wail behind me as I slowed down. Glancing back I could barely see the two police cars pull up to the spot the unconscious criminals lay in wait.

Spider-man. I had just been saved by The Spider-man of New York city.

I wasn't one to be awestruck usually, by the super heroes, avengers and whatnot that appeared throughout the city as I had powers of my own. But unlike those big headed egomaniacs he took times for the little things. Not taking down space aliens from the sky.

But saving teenage girls from... well, things.

He was a real hero, something I wish I could be. After all, what's the use of having a superpower if all you do is take math tests and drink coffee while listening to rock. But I had tried that before, and look where it got me.

Hiding from hero hunters on the other side of the country.

I blew a piece of my hair from between my eyes as I continued down the street, turning left towards my apartment complex and walking silently in the nipping wind. Just before I could make my way to the door, a pair of scuddling feet came to a scratching halt beside me, accompanied by an out of breath lanky teenage boy.

"Peter? What are you doing here?" He bent over, pulling in and out heavy breaths as his mop of dark hair shimmered slightly in the lamp light from across the street.

"I- you forgot this at school.." he reached swung a tattered bag down to the ground, gently opened it and pulled out my blue button up flannel.

I reached my hand up, running a couple of fingers through my hair and giving him an open mouthed grin. "Wow, I've known you for one day and your already going out of your way to be my knight in shining armor." He looked me in the eye and let out an embraced laugh.

"Well, it's a nice shirt. Thought you might want it back.." He trailed off with a bit of a goofy grin plastered on his lips.

"Uh huh." I laced my fingers around the top and tied it around my waist as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"That and Ned insisted I did it." I nodded my head, letting out a silent yeah as he laughed a bit. "Hes a bit of a match maker."

"And I assume good with the internet if he found my adress that easily. But thanks Peter, I get the sentiment." He nodded, slinging his bag back over his shoulders and gripping the straps. The light was glittering in his eyes now. Just enough to make them sparkle.

"Oh wow.." the kind look in his eyes dropped as he glanced down at my arm, a pair of bruise had started to form where the ruffian was pinning down my arms, purple and blue in color. He moved forward quickly, closing the nearly two foot gap between us in just a moment as he lifted up my arms and inspected the fresh discoloration. "What happened?" He asked with worry as he gently ran a finger along the length of the bruise on my left arm, causing me to hiss slightly at the newfound pain.

"Oh, nothing. It's not," I pulled in a sharp breath as he touched the side of my neck, pulling back the hand to reveal a crimson substance on his fingers. I grimaced as he let my right arm go and looked at me with a piercing dont lie to me glaire. I tilted my head, closing my eyes for a moment and momentarily yelling at myself for being a complete and utter idiot. "Okay, I. Just come inside." I reached down into my pocket, retrieved a key, and unlocked the door before stomping my way up the flight of stairs and into apartment 215 with Peter on my heels.

He shut the door gently behind himself as I flipped on the kitchen light switch, a slight flicker of the bulb coming on before the light filled the small space of the lower floor of the apartment. I turned back, grabbing a glass off the counter that hadn't yet been put away and filled it with some tap water. Peter was just staring at me as I did so, my shoulders hunched as I filled another and sat them both down on the small table in the kitchen center, pulling out a chair and motioning for him to join me.

"Okay Parker where do you want me to start?" I raised an eyebrow, nudging one of the glasses in front of him and raising the other to my lips as I took a pained sip.

"I guess with what happened." He muttered, wrapping his fingers around the cup and pulling it closer to himself.

I pinched my lips, pushing them over to the side as I thought. "Well, I guess it started when I left school, trying to make my way out of the area while avoiding the news Van's circling the area. This weird guy approached me.." I stopped for a moment, a realization flashing over me. "Sweet cheese it was him. The guy, he wanted to know what I saw, the hero and all that. It was him. He and his burly buddy grabbed me off the streets once it was dark. I was alone.." My hand shot down under the table, covering the spot where his fingers had laid just above my hip. "It had to be- the accent, he had this heavy german accent and a mess of blond hair that hadn't been washed in ages. It was him. He tried to-" my lungs burned, air trying to find it's way into them as the moment really hit down hard on me.

He almost rapped me, it was so close.

My arms ached where the purple splotches grew and my neck stung as salty tears soaked into the cut I faint even know was there.

Peter let go of his glass, his hands grabbing mine that still sat on the table top. I shuddered, cold running up and down my spine as his warm fingers held my frozen ones.

"He tried to take advantage of me Peter. And he almost got to. But that hero, the new one all over the news. Spiderman, he saved me." He just nodded, glancing down to his side for a moment before bring a tissue up from under the table and releasing my hand so I could wipe the cold rear trails from my cheeks.

"Did you call the police?" He asked, standing up and moving to the counter and grabbing a few sheets of paper towel off, wetting them, and returning to my side.

"No, it was just so fast, I just ran. But he must have, Spiderman, some cops showed just after once I was out of sight and arrested the two guys." Peter gently moved my head over and dabbed at the wound on my neck with the wet wad of disposable towel. I bit my lip as bits of pain shot through me. "I know I should have done something." I whispered, letting Peter sweep my hair away and inspected the rest of my neck for any other injuries. His free hand was locked around my waist in a protective manner, holding me close to him as I held my eyes shut just trying to shut out everything around me but his strong but gentle grip.

"Don't. Don't do that to yourself." He sternly muttered as he dabbed around the wound once more. "It is not in any way your fault. There was nothing you could do."

"And that's my point. I was completly and utterly helpless, it he hadn't shown up, for all I know I could be left for dead behind a dumpster right now! I couldn't do a single thing to protect myself Peter, do you know how terrifying that is?" I peeled open my eyes, pushing away his attentive hands and looking him deep in his eyes and I knew that he didn't, not really. "You should probably go home Parker, we have school in the morning and I suspect your parents wouldn't like you being out all night long with some girl you barely even know."

His face fell, nodding slightly with a tight lipped frown as he left the bloody wad of towels on the table and headed for the door. A breath ripped it's way into my lungs, "Peter!" He spun around, a hopeful look in his eyes as he did so. I flinched, a little guilty as I stood and grabbed his bag off the floor. "You almost forgot this." I mumbled, handing him the heavy bag with a small smile. He returned it, grabbing it by the straps and tugging it up over his shoulder.

"Thanks Rachel, I'll see you tomorrow." I nodded, hands clasped in front of me as slowly, the door closed, Peter Parker on the other side. Leaving me all alone with my thoughts, a bleeding gash on my neck, bruises up my arms, and a burning question of why I made him go.