Spider-Man/Peter Parker One-Shots

Metanoia [Part 2]

With her parents in jail (and no longer making payments on their house), (Y/N) was homeless. The trial took forever and it was draining to sit through. (Y/N) was called to testify against her parents, and as scary as that was, it didn't churn her guts as much as what they blackmailed her into doing. She gave her piece about how they were such good parents and she had no idea they were robbers, just like Peter had suggested to avoid incriminating herself, and her parents agreed they never let her in on anything. In exchange, of course, she had to get them bail money.

The bail was more than the house she once lived in; there was no way she could possibly get it. Well, not without stealing it. Why not just say she'd do it but when they got sent to jail not go through with it? If only the world were that simple. (Y/N)'s parents had a friend who they told to make sure she got the money. If she didn't, well, she could kiss her life goodbye.

"What's the best bank to hit?" she asked Randy, her parents' friend. He was a beast of a man, mostly muscle but not lacking in brains either. He dabbled in robbery but his talent was murder. The sooner she got the money the sooner she would be out of this mess. But what bigger mess would it create when her parents were free? Whatever, she'd cross that bridge when she got to it.

"That one." Randy slammed his finger on the map. (Y/N) waited for him to move his finger so she could see it, but when he didn't, she had to do it for him. That was the last one her family hit before getting arrested.

"Maybe this time we'll be able to get away with all of it," she half-heartedly joked.

"What?"

"Nothing. Let's go."

When she walked in the doors, (Y/N)'s old cat mask was over her face and an M16 was in her hands. Randy held two shotguns, both of which were pointed at the occupants of the bank: two janitors. Randy insisted on doing the robbery at night, and as long as that meant less kills on her conscience, she was fine with that.

She went to work on the safes, pleased to find the combinations the same as last time. The less time this took the less likely Peter would find out. She grimaced, her gut twisting uncomfortably. She couldn't think about him right now.

The first safe popped open and she shoved its contents into her bag. It wasn't as full as last time, no doubt because of her parents' visit last time. She slammed it shut and moved onto the next one.

Randy stuck his head in on the seventh. "What's taking so long?"

"I'm almost done, just one more." (Y/N) glanced past him, scared to see white eyes in the shadows, but that was just her imagination. She quickly opened the last one then walked out with the bag over her shoulder. "Let's go."

"Wait." Randy turned to the janitor's, both of their hands up and backs turned. He was about to put a spray of bullets in their backs when (Y/N) stepped in front of him.

"Don't shoot them. I'm sure they won't tell anyone we were here." She directed the words more to the men than Randy, hoping they'd listen. They nodded feverishly, begging for their lives.

"Stop blabbering," Randy said, and they wasted no time in listening. "Fine. But if you so much as make a peep-" He cocked the shotgun and they nodded, still not turning around. (Y/N) dashed for the door, Randy right behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief when they got far enough away and she could remove the mask. Nobody died, she could at least sleep tonight knowing that.

"The money." Randy held out his hand and she looked up in surprise.

"It's for my parents." She gripped it tightly.

"I know. I will keep it safe." She narrowed her eyes. "They don't believe you will save it for them."

"They don't think I want them out of that stinkin' prison?" She spat. "It's no fun doing it alone." Randy rose an eyebrow, but she couldn't tell if he believed her. "Whatever, but if you spend so much as a cent on something-"