When Gwen finally made it outside, she found Peter sitting on a low concrete wall near the entrance, patiently waiting for her. A playful smile crossed her face as she quietly approached him from behind, carefully placing each foot so she wouldn't make a sound. Just as she reached forward to cover his eyes, Peter smoothly leaned out of her reach and turned around, greeting her with a wide, amused smile.
"You know you can't sneak up on me, right?" Peter asked as he stood and stepped closer to her. "Spider-like reflexes, remember?" Gwen rolled her eyes at his teasing before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. Peter immediately returned the kiss, resting his hands against her waist before they reluctantly pulled apart.
"So, how was your day?" Peter asked as they started walking down the crowded street together. Gwen told him about her work at Oscorp while Peter led her through several quieter side streets, eventually bringing her to a small pizza place tucked between two much larger buildings. It wasn't especially fancy, but the delicious smell drifting through the open door immediately convinced Gwen that Peter had chosen well.
They bought several slices and continued walking, eating as they wandered through the city and talked about Gwen's internship. Their peaceful evening was suddenly interrupted when one of the enormous video billboards above the street flickered before switching to a breaking-news report. The people around them gradually stopped walking, their conversations fading as everyone turned their attention toward the screen.
"We are receiving reports of an ongoing attack at a private event attended by several LexCorp executives and high-ranking members of the United States military," the reporter announced as shaky footage appeared behind her. The recording showed a man dressed in green armor soaring above the panicked crowd on a bat-shaped glider, throwing glowing explosives at the security forces below. "The attacker has identified himself as the Green Goblin, and authorities are warning everyone to stay away from the area."
Peter stopped in the middle of taking another bite, his expression immediately becoming serious as he stared at the footage. On the screen, police officers fired helplessly at the speeding glider while the Green Goblin laughed and effortlessly avoided their shots. Another glowing bomb dropped toward the street, and the broadcast shook violently as a fiery explosion sent several military vehicles rolling across the pavement.
Gwen slowly lowered her slice and looked from the screen to Peter, already recognizing the expression in his eyes. Their agreement had never been that he would ignore a threat the police couldn't handle. Peter had promised to give up being Spider-Man for good if an entire week passed without anything unusual happening, but if something appeared that was beyond the police, he would put the suit back on and help.
"I think this counts as something unusual," Peter said quietly, never taking his eyes off the destruction playing across the screen. Gwen didn't answer immediately, but she couldn't deny what they were both seeing. The police were being overwhelmed, innocent people were trapped inside the party, and the Green Goblin was clearly far more dangerous than an ordinary criminal.
"Go," Gwen finally told him, although the worry in her voice was impossible to hide. "Just promise me you'll be careful." Peter nodded before quickly handing her his unfinished slice and telling her to go to his house before slipping into a nearby alley. By the time Gwen reached the alley's entrance and looked inside, Peter had already disappeared into the shadows.
as peter swung to his house to get his costume batman and robin appeared on the out skirts of new york in the bat jet when alfred came onto the mic and explained that a mask mad man calling himself the green goblin was attack and there has been no signs of spiderman
robin asked batman if he thought that the league killed him the other night but batman didnt say antthing but he did increase the speed of the bat jet
by the time peter made home and then got to the sence of the fight the dining hall that was hosting the party was destoryed and there was a bunch of blown up cop cars and injured civilains and cops
Peter swung across the city as quickly as he could, barely allowing himself to release one web before firing the next. His house was in the opposite direction from the attack, but he couldn't face the Green Goblin without his suit, especially when news helicopters were already circling the area. He pushed his spider-like strength into every swing, launching himself over entire buildings as he raced home to change.
At the same time, the Batjet appeared on the outskirts of New York, its black frame nearly invisible against the night sky. Batman sat silently at the controls while Robin monitored the reports coming through the jet's computer. Alfred's voice suddenly came through their headsets as images of burning vehicles and collapsing buildings appeared across the main screen.
"Sir, local news stations are reporting that a masked man calling himself the Green Goblin is attacking a private gathering attended by LexCorp executives and senior military officials," Alfred explained. "The authorities have suffered significant casualties, and despite the severity of the situation, there has been no confirmed sighting of Spider-Man."
Robin glanced away from the screen and looked toward Batman. "Do you think the League killed him the other night?" he asked, his voice more serious than usual. "He was poisoned, stabbed, and barely able to stand when he escaped. Maybe he never made it home."
Batman didn't answer, but his grip tightened around the Batjet's controls. A moment later, the engines roared as he increased their speed, forcing Robin back against his seat. Batman had watched Spider-Man continue fighting while enough poison flowed through his body to bring down several grown men, but even he couldn't know how badly the young hero had been injured after disappearing into the night.
Peter reached his house and slipped through the basement window, landing beside his workbench before hurrying toward the hidden compartment containing his new suit but Within moments, he pulled on the red-and-blue suit, adjusted his mask, and launched himself back through the window.
By the time Spider-Man reached the scene, the dining hall that had hosted the party was almost completely destroyed. Half of its roof had collapsed into the main room, while flames poured through the shattered windows and climbed the blackened walls. Several police cars had been blown apart, leaving twisted pieces of metal scattered across the street as officers desperately dragged their injured partners away from the fires.
Civilians stumbled through the smoke with blood covering their formal clothing, while paramedics struggled to decide who needed treatment first. Some military personnel continued firing toward the sky, but the Green Goblin easily swept around their bullets on his glider. Each time he passed over the street, he threw another glowing explosive into the remaining vehicles and laughed as the officers scattered.
Spider-Man landed on the side of a nearby building and stared down at the destruction, his fingers digging into the brick beneath him. He had only been gone for a short time, yet the Green Goblin had already transformed the entire area into a war zone. Whatever this man wanted from LexCorp and the military, he clearly didn't care how many innocent people were caught between them.
His attention shifted when he heard a frightened cry beneath the roar of the flames. A section of the dining hall had collapsed onto several civilians, trapping them beneath broken support beams while the fire rapidly spread toward them. Spider-Man immediately jumped from the wall, firing two organic web lines before swinging directly toward the burning building.
Spider-Man attached two thick web lines to the surrounding buildings before pulling them as far back as he could, stretching them like an enormous slingshot. The moment he released his grip, the webbing launched him through the air at incredible speed. The Green Goblin barely had time to turn before both of Peter's feet slammed into his chest, knocking him off his glider and sending him crashing across the rooftop below.
"Sorry, were you using that?" Spider-Man quipped as he twisted through the air and landed in a crouch a few feet away. The Green Goblin quickly pushed himself back to his feet and charged with a furious roar, throwing a powerful punch at Peter's head. Peter easily caught his armored fist before it reached him, then struck the Goblin several times across the face and chest, forcing him backward with every blow.
The Green Goblin tried to counter with another punch, but Peter leaned out of its path before driving his fist into the Goblin's stomach. Despite the strength hidden beneath the green armor, the Goblin was unable to match Peter's speed or his spider-sense. Peter ducked and weaved around every wild attack before delivering another powerful punch that sent the Goblin sliding toward the edge of the rooftop.
Across the city, the fight continued to play on every news channel as helicopters circled above the ruined dining hall. Gwen watched the live broadcast on her phone while hurrying toward Peter's house, keeping her eyes on the screen whenever she could safely glance down. She knew Peter was stronger than most people could imagine, but seeing him fight again so soon after being poisoned and stabbed made it impossible for her not to worry.
"Spider-Man has finally arrived and is now confronting the masked attacker known as the Green Goblin," the reporter announced as the camera zoomed in on the rooftop. "Despite the serious wounds Spider-Man suffered during his battle two nights ago, he appears to be overpowering the Green Goblin. Authorities have still not identified the other masked individuals involved in that earlier confrontation."
The Green Goblin stumbled back before suddenly reaching into a compartment along his armor and pulling out several pumpkin-shaped explosives. He hurled them toward Peter, forcing Spider-Man to leap away as the bombs exploded across the rooftop. Peter fired several webs at the remaining explosives, trapping them in thick layers before throwing them over the side of the building, where they detonated harmlessly against an empty section of pavement.
While Peter was distracted, the Green Goblin raised one hand and remotely summoned his glider. Its engines screamed as it shot around the corner of the building, allowing the Goblin to leap onto it without slowing down. Peter immediately aimed his wrist toward him, preparing to cover both the Goblin and his glider in webbing before he could escape.
"Not so fast, Spider," the Green Goblin called, holding several more pumpkin bombs between his armored fingers. "Are you going to stop me—or save them?" Before Peter could answer, the Goblin threw the explosives over the edge of the building toward a group of injured police officers being treated on the street below.
Peter abandoned his shot at the Goblin and dove over the side without hesitation, falling headfirst after the bombs. He fired several web lines in rapid succession, binding the explosives together only seconds before they reached the wounded officers. Peter swung the bundle away from the street and launched it high into the sky, where the bombs exploded in a harmless burst of orange fire.
When Peter landed against the side of the building and looked back toward the rooftop, the Green Goblin had already disappeared into the night. His enhanced hearing picked up the distant whine of the glider's engines, but it was already fading among the sounds of helicopters and approaching emergency vehicles. Peter clenched his fist in frustration, knowing the Goblin had forced him to choose and used the innocent officers to escape.
He quickly pushed the frustration aside when his enhanced hearing caught several cries coming from beneath the wreckage. Peter dropped to the street and rushed toward the ruined dining hall as more police cars, fire engines, and ambulances arrived. He wedged his hands beneath a massive piece of the collapsed roof and lifted it away, allowing firefighters to pull several trapped civilians from underneath.
Peter continued digging through the rubble, lifting slabs of concrete and twisted support beams that would have required heavy machinery for anyone else to move. His spider-sense suddenly gave him a faint warning, and he looked up as the Batjet swept over the street before disappearing behind the surrounding buildings. Moments later, Batman and Robin emerged through the smoke and approached the wreckage.
Neither of them wasted time asking questions. Batman activated a scanner in his cowl and began directing the firefighters toward several people trapped beneath the collapsed dining hall, while Robin used small explosive charges to carefully break apart sections of concrete. Peter lifted another support beam from the rubble as the two heroes moved beside him, and together they began searching for anyone who could still be saved.
Spider-Man, Batman, and Robin spent the next two hours searching through the remains of the dining hall. Batman used the scanners built into his cowl to locate anyone buried beneath the wreckage, while Robin crawled through narrow openings that the rescue workers couldn't safely enter. Peter lifted enormous slabs of concrete and twisted support beams out of their way, allowing the firefighters and paramedics to reach the trapped civilians.
None of them stopped until the fire chief confirmed that every guest, police officer, soldier, and member of staff had been accounted for. Once the search was officially over, Peter stepped away from the wreckage and pulled his phone from inside his suit. He quickly sent Gwen a message asking whether she had reached his place yet, wanting to make sure she was somewhere safe before he dealt with anything else.
After putting his phone back inside his suit, Peter noticed Batman fire his grappling hook toward the roof of a nearby building. The Dark Knight was pulled into the air, and Robin followed him a few seconds later. Peter could have jumped after them, but he decided to show off a little by placing both hands and feet against the wall before casually walking straight up the side of the building.
When Peter stepped over the edge of the rooftop, Robin stared at him in confusion. "How are you doing that?" he asked, leaning over the side to examine the wall Peter had just climbed. "You weren't climbing with your hands. Your feet were sticking to the building too."
"To be honest, I couldn't tell you," Peter admitted with a shrug. "I'm still pretty new to these powers. I've only had them for about a month and a half, so I'm mostly figuring things out as they happen. I didn't exactly get an instruction manual."
Batman silently studied him, his eyes briefly moving over Peter's undamaged suit before returning to his mask. After witnessing how badly Spider-Man had been poisoned and stabbed two nights earlier, Batman had expected some sign of the injuries. Instead, Peter stood perfectly straight without any pain or difficulty, making it clear that his wounds had already healed completely.
"Anyway, thanks for helping down there," Peter continued, his joking tone becoming more sincere. "There were a lot of people buried beneath that building, and I don't know if the rescue crews could have reached everyone in time without your scanners. But that still doesn't explain why Batman and Robin came all the way from Gotham to New York."
Batman stepped closer as his cape shifted in the wind. "Talia al Ghul is in New York," he answered. "She was the woman who led the group that attacked you two nights ago, and she is still somewhere in the city."
Peter tilted his head beneath his mask. "Am I supposed to know who Talia al Ghul is?" he asked. "Because your saying her name like I'm supposed to know who she is."
"She's the second-in-command of the League of Assassins," Robin interrupted. "She's also the daughter of Ra's al Ghul, the man who leads the entire organization. If Talia personally came to New York to kill you, then whoever placed the contract must have paid them a lot of money."
Peter looked between them as the white lenses of his mask slowly narrowed. "Great," he muttered, placing his hands on his hips. "I've only been Spider-Man for a month and a half, and I already have an entire gang of assassins trying to kill me. Is there some kind of beginner-level villain I was supposed to fight first?"
Robin continued studying Peter before glancing toward Batman. "How are you feeling, anyway?" he asked. "The League poisoned you with something that should have killed you, and then you got stabbed. We weren't even sure you survived, but now you look completely fine."
"I feel great, actually," Peter answered as he flexed one arm to demonstrate. "I have some kind of healing factor, so the stab wound closed and completely healed after a days. As for the poison, I'm assuming I have at least some level of poison immunity. It definitely affected me, but apparently my body was able to fight it off before it could kill me."
Batman stepped closer as soon as Peter finished speaking. "I need a sample of your blood," he said bluntly. "If your body developed antibodies against the League's poison, I may be able to use them to create an antidote. Their toxins have killed hundreds of people, and the formula is frequently altered to prevent conventional treatments from working."
Peter immediately took a cautious step backward. The white lenses of his mask narrowed as he looked Batman up and down, suddenly far less comfortable than he had been a moment earlier. His blood contained the secret behind his powers, and allowing anyone to study it could expose far more than his ability to survive poison.
"I don't usually hand out samples of my superpowered blood to people I just met," Peter said carefully. "That sounds like the beginning of one of those stories where I wake up a month later and discover an evil clone wearing my costume. Then everyone blames me for whatever he does because he has my face."
Despite his concern, Peter knew Batman was one of the good guys and one of the founding members of the Justice League. If anyone could keep the sample secure and use it to save people from the League's poison, it was probably him. After hesitating for another moment, Peter released a quiet sigh and pulled back part of his sleeve, exposing his forearm.
"All right, but only take what you need," Peter warned. "And if you make a clone of me, at least make sure he's the one who goes to school and does my homework." Robin gave a short laugh as Batman removed a sterile syringe and collection tube from one of the compartments on his utility belt.
Batman disinfected Peter's arm before carefully drawing a small vial of blood. Peter watched the dark-red liquid fill the tube, his joking attitude fading as he considered what someone could do with it. The moment Batman removed the needle, the tiny puncture in Peter's skin closed almost immediately, disappearing before any of them could place a bandage over it.
"I'm serious about keeping that safe," Peter said as Batman sealed the vial inside a reinforced container. "No one gets access to it unless it's necessary to make the antidote. I don't want the government, LexCorp, the League, or anyone else getting their hands on my blood."
"You have my word," Batman replied, securing the container inside his utility belt. "The sample will remain under my control. Once I isolate what neutralized the poison and reproduce it, the remaining blood will be destroyed."
The three of them spent the next half hour going over everything Peter remembered from the attack. He described the four assassins he had sensed watching him earlier that day, the poison that weakened his muscles and slowed his reflexes, and the way Talia had continued testing him instead of immediately trying to finish him. He also explained how the remaining assassins had disappeared beneath cover of smoke once Batman and Robin joined the fight.
Batman questioned Peter about every detail, from the weapons the assassins carried to the exact moment the poison began affecting him. Robin added what he and Batman had witnessed after arriving, while Peter answered as clearly as he could. By the time they finished, Batman had formed a detailed timeline of the ambush and confirmed that the League had spent hours studying Spider-Man before making its move.
"They know how strong you are now," Batman said as he looked across the New York skyline. "They also know the poison wasn't enough to kill you. The next time the League attacks, they'll adjust their strategy."
Batman reached into his utility belt and handed Peter a small black device with a single button in its center. "If the League attacks again, activate this," he instructed. "It will send an encrypted signal directly to me. I'll remain in New York for approximately one week while I search for Talia, but after that, I'll have to return to Gotham."
Peter examined the device before placing it securely inside his suit. "Thanks," he said, looking between Batman and Robin. "for the warning, and especially for helping with the rescue tonight. I'm starting to understand why the two of you have such a good reputation."
Before either of them could respond, Peter sprinted toward the edge of the rooftop and leaped into the open air. Robin hurried forward and watched as Peter fell several stories before firing a web and swinging upward in a wide arc. Within seconds, Spider-Man vanished behind another building, leaving Robin staring after him in amazement.
"He's only been doing this for a month and a half?" Robin asked as he turned toward Batman. Batman didn't answer, but he continued watching the direction Spider-Man had disappeared. Peter was inexperienced and reckless, yet his powers, instincts, and immediate willingness to risk himself for strangers made it clear that he possessed the potential to become an exceptional hero.
Peter eventually reached his neighborhood and crawled through the basement window, landing quietly beside his workbench. Gwen was sitting on the edge of his bed waiting for him, and the relief on her face appeared the moment she saw that he was unharmed. Peter pulled off his mask, crossed the room, and kissed her before she could say anything.
"I'm sorry about our date," Peter said after they separated. "I know disappearing to fight a guy throwing pumpkin bombs wasn't exactly how we planned to spend the evening." Gwen didn't answer immediately, instead watching as Peter began removing his dusty costume and changing back into his regular clothes.
While Peter changed, Gwen's attention lingered on his muscular body a little longer than she intended. She became so distracted that she failed to notice her lips had parted slightly until Peter pulled on his shirt and looked over at her with an amused smile. "You know, you're drooling a little," he teased.
Gwen's face immediately turned red, but she recovered quickly and reached behind herself to grab a small box she had noticed near the bed. "Then maybe you can explain why you have these," she replied, holding up the box of condoms Peter had been given earlier. The teasing expression vanished from Peter's face as he recognized it.
"That isn't what it looks like," Peter said quickly, only to pause and reconsider his words. "Okay, it's exactly what it looks like, but I didn't buy them. Your mother gave them to me while you were in the shower earlier today."
Gwen stared at him in disbelief. Peter sighed before explaining the entire awkward conversation, including how her mother had questioned him about whether they had slept together. He admitted that he had accidentally revealed Gwen had come to his house the previous night when he explained that he had gone to bed alone but awakened with her sleeping on his chest.
"and then she gave me that box," Peter finished, pointing toward the condoms in Gwen's hand. "I tried to tell her we didn't do anything, but I think explaining it only made everything worse."
Gwen slowly looked down at the box before covering her burning face with one hand. "I'm never leaving my bedroom again," she muttered. Peter sat beside her and tried not to laugh, although the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth made his effort obvious.
Peter sat down beside Gwen, and she lowered her hand from her still-red face before leaning against him. Their embarrassment over the box was soon forgotten when Peter gently kissed her, and Gwen slipped her arms around his neck as she returned it. They continued making out for a few minutes, enjoying what remained of their interrupted date, until Peter reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.
"I should probably take you home," Peter said, although the disappointed look on his face made it clear that he didn't want her to leave yet. "Your dad is already mad at me and I don't think keeping you here any longer will help me survive my next conversation with your father."
Gwen laughed softly before placing the box back where she had found it. After Peter finished changing, they left the basement and headed upstairs. Just as they entered the living room, the front door opened and May stepped inside, looking tired after spending the evening working at F.E.A.S.T.
"May, why are you getting home this late?" Peter asked, immediately crossing the room toward her. "Were you working late again? You could have called me. I would've come and walked you home."
May closed the door and gave him a patient smile as she set down her bag. "You don't need to worry about me, Peter. I'm perfectly fine, and I knew you were out with Gwen tonight. I wasn't going to interrupt your date just because I had to stay at F.E.A.S.T. a little longer than expected."
"You wouldn't have ruined anything," Peter assured her, briefly glancing toward Gwen. Considering that the Green Goblin had attacked their date, Peter didn't think a short walk home with May would have made the evening any less successful. "Besides, New York becomes dangerous after sunset. You shouldn't be walking through the city by yourself this late."
May placed one hand on her hip and gave Peter a look that immediately reminded him who had raised whom. "Peter, I am sixty-five years old," she told him. "I managed to live in New York long before you decided you needed to protect everyone around you. I appreciate that you worry about me, but I'm perfectly capable of getting home safely."
Before Peter could argue, May's expression softened. "Besides, Mr. Li pays a private company to drive employees home whenever we have to work late. The driver dropped me off directly in front of the house, so I wasn't wandering through the streets alone."
Peter looked through the front window and caught sight of a dark car pulling away from the curb. Some of the tension left his shoulders once he realized May truly hadn't walked home, although the protective concern remained on his face. "All right, but if they ever can't drive you, call me. I don't care what I'm doing or how late it is—I'll come get you."
"I know you will," May replied warmly before turning her attention toward Gwen. Her eyes briefly moved between the two teenagers, noticing their slightly swollen lips and the embarrassed way Gwen avoided looking directly at her. A knowing smile appeared on May's face, but she decided not to say anything that would make the girl even more uncomfortable.
"I suppose you're about to walk Gwen home," May said instead. "Try not to take too long, and make sure you come straight back afterward." Peter promised that he would, while Gwen politely wished May a good night before following him toward the front door.
When Peter and Gwen were only a couple of blocks away from her apartment building, they heard loud laughter coming from farther down the street. Three girls stumbled out of a late-night restaurant, barely able to walk in a straight line as they supported one another. Peter immediately recognized the red hair of the girl in the middle and released a tired sigh.
"Is that MJ?" Gwen asked as one of the girls nearly walked into a lamppost. Peter nodded, his expression becoming serious when he realized how drunk all three of them were. There was no way he could leave them wandering around New York in that condition, especially this late at night.
"I need to make sure they get home safely," Peter said apologetically. "Your building is close, but message me the moment you get inside." Gwen understood and kissed him good night, though neither of them pulled away immediately. When they finally separated, Peter promised to message her as soon as he reached home before watching until she disappeared around the corner toward her apartment.
Peter then walked over to the three intoxicated girls while using his phone to call a cab. MJ squinted at him for several seconds before her face brightened with recognition. She leaned heavily against one of her friends and raised her hand in an unsteady wave.
"Hey there, Tiger," MJ slurred, nearly losing her balance when she attempted to step toward him. Peter caught her by the shoulders before she could fall and helped her stand upright. The strong smell of alcohol made him wrinkle his nose as he looked between the three girls.
"Hi, MJ," Peter replied. "I called a cab for your friends, and I'm taking you home." MJ immediately shook her head and tried to pull away, insisting that she was perfectly capable of walking despite swaying so badly that Peter had to catch her again.
"You've had enough alcohol," Peter said in a firm voice that left no room for an argument. "Actually, all three of you have had more than enough. I already called your parents, and they're waiting for you, so nobody is going anywhere except home."
When the cab arrived, one of MJ's friends suddenly bent forward and vomited across the sidewalk. Peter held her hair out of the way while the other girl weakly rubbed her back. Once she had finished, he helped both girls into the back seat but stopped the driver before allowing him to leave.
"I need to see your driver's license," Peter said, holding out his hand. The driver looked confused but passed it over, and Peter carefully compared the name and photograph with the information displayed in the cab company's app. He memorized the address before handing the license back through the window.
"I've spoken to their parents, and they're expecting them within the next half hour," Peter explained, his voice becoming unusually cold. "I know your name, your license number, and where you live. If these girls don't make it home safely, I'll call the police and give them everything."
The driver quickly nodded, clearly frightened by Peter's warning. "They'll get home," he promised. "I'll take them straight there." Peter watched the cab pull away and memorized the license plate as an additional precaution before turning his attention back to MJ.
MJ tried taking a step on her own, only for her knees to buckle beneath her. Peter caught her before she struck the pavement and decided that attempting to help her walk all the way home would take forever. He slipped one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees before effortlessly lifting her into a princess carry.
"Whoa," MJ mumbled as her arms loosely wrapped around his neck. She rested her head against his chest and gave him a sleepy smile. "My hero."
"Don't get used to this," Peter replied as he started walking toward home. "You're only getting carried because you can't take three steps without trying to fight the sidewalk." MJ attempted to argue, but her words became an incoherent mumble as her eyes slowly drifted closed.
They had only made it half a block when MJ suddenly lifted her head and covered her mouth. Peter immediately realized what was about to happen, but with both of his arms supporting her, he couldn't put her down quickly enough. MJ leaned forward and vomited across the front of his shirt before weakly resting her head against his shoulder again.
Peter stopped and closed his eyes as the warm mess soaked into the fabric. After everything he had endured that night—the Green Goblin, the collapsing dining hall, and Batman taking his blood—somehow this felt like the final insult. "Perfect," he muttered. "I always wanted this shirt to smell like cheap alcohol and regret."
"Sorry, Tiger," MJ whispered drowsily. Peter released a long breath and continued carrying her, adjusting his grip so she was secure. "It's fine," he assured her. "But tomorrow morning, you're going to hear exactly how disgusting this was."
On the rooftop above them, Batman and Robin watched from the shadows. Batman had secretly placed a tracking signal inside the emergency device he had given Peter, allowing them to follow Spider-Man without expecting it to lead them directly to an ordinary teenage boy. Robin stared down at Peter with open surprise as the pieces finally came together.
"He's the same age as me," Robin said quietly. "He's only had his powers for a month and a half, and he's responsible for an entire city by himself. He fought the League, stopped the Green Goblin, searched through rubble for two hours, and now he's carrying his drunk friend home."
"He understands that protecting people doesn't begin or end with the mask," Batman replied as he watched Peter carefully carry MJ around a broken section of pavement. "His first instinct is to help, regardless of whether the danger involves assassins, collapsing buildings, or someone unable to protect herself."
Robin glanced toward Batman. "Are you going to tell him we know who he is?" Batman remained silent for several seconds, his gaze following Peter and MJ as they continued down the street. "Not tonight," he finally answered. "For now, we watch—and make sure the League doesn't discover what we just did."
By the time Peter made it home, MJ had thrown up on him twice more, leaving even more vomit across the front of his already ruined shirt. He carefully opened the front door and carried her inside, relieved to find the entire house dark and silent. At least Aunt May was asleep, which meant he still had a chance to handle the situation without her seeing MJ like this.
Peter quietly carried MJ upstairs and brought her into her bedroom, but he hesitated before putting her on the bed. Her hair and clothes were covered in vomit, and she was so drunk that she could barely keep her eyes open. He gently placed her on her side, set a wastebasket beside the bed, and immediately called Gwen.
"Peter?" Gwen answered after the first ring. "Did you make it home?" Peter kept his voice low as he explained that MJ had thrown up several more times and was now covered in it. He asked whether he should leave her in bed or run a bath, although he admitted that MJ was far too intoxicated to be left alone near water.
"Give me a second," Gwen said before muting the call. She climbed out of bed and entered the living room, where her parents were still watching television. "Mom, can I talk to you privately for a minute?"
"You know you can talk to both of us," George said, lowering the volume. Gwen glanced toward her father and shook her head. "It's more of a girl problem, Dad."
George's eyebrows rose as he looked toward Helen. "Has my little girl finally reached puberty?" he asked in a proud, overly emotional voice. "I knew this day would come eventually."
"Dad, I'm fourteen," Gwen replied, staring at him in disbelief. "That day came years ago." Helen covered her mouth to hide a laugh before standing, while George looked mildly offended that neither of them appreciated his attempt to help.
Gwen grabbed her mother's hand and pulled her into the kitchen before George could ask anything else. Once they were out of his hearing, she quickly explained what had happened. "On the way home, Peter and I found MJ and two of her friends wandering around completely hammered. Peter put the other girls in a cab and called their parents, but MJ could barely stand, so he carried her home."
Helen's expression immediately became serious. "How bad is she?" she asked. Gwen explained that MJ had vomited several times and was now lying in her bedroom covered in it. Peter didn't want to wake May and let her see MJ in that condition, but he couldn't help MJ shower or change clothes himself while she was too drunk to properly understand what was happening.
"He needs another girl there, but really, he needs an adult," Gwen finished. "Can you drive me back to Peter's house and help us? I can stay with MJ in the shower while you make sure she's okay. Peter said she's awake, but barely."
Helen nodded without hesitation and reached for her coat and car keys. "Tell Peter not to put her in a bath and not to leave her alone," she instructed. "Have him keep her on her side in case she vomits again. If she becomes difficult to wake, starts breathing strangely, or looks worse before we arrive, he needs to wake May and call an ambulance immediately."
Gwen unmuted the phone and relayed everything to Peter. He looked toward MJ, who was still breathing normally but had begun mumbling into her pillow. "Okay," he whispered. "I'll stay beside her until you get here. Please hurry."
Gwen ended the call, slipped on her shoes, and followed Helen toward the front door. George looked between them in confusion as they hurried through the living room. "Where are you going in the middle of the night?"
"One of Gwen's friends needs help," Helen answered without slowing down. "We'll explain later." George started to stand, but Helen assured him that the situation was under control before leading Gwen outside.
Once they were in the car, Helen started the engine and pulled away from the apartment building. "How does a fourteen-year-old girl get that drunk?" she asked, her concern mixing with anger. "Where did she even get the alcohol?"
"She was at some kind of party with her friends," Gwen explained. "I don't know who gave it to her or how long she was there. Peter and I only found them after they were already wandering around the street."
Helen tightened her hands around the steering wheel as she drove toward Peter's neighborhood. "We'll take care of MJ first," she said firmly. "Tomorrow morning, after she's sober and safe, she's going to explain exactly what happened at that party and who gave alcohol to three fourteen-year-old girls."
Helen pulled up outside Peter's house less than fifteen minutes later, and Gwen hurried toward the front door before the engine had completely stopped. She knocked quietly so they wouldn't wake May, but Peter opened the door almost immediately. His shirt was covered in vomit, his hair was disheveled, and the exhausted expression on his face made Gwen struggle not to laugh.
"Not a word," Peter warned when he noticed her expression. "This was one of my favorite shirts." Gwen pressed her lips together and nodded, although her amusement disappeared when Peter led them upstairs and showed them MJ lying on her side with a wastebasket beside the bed.
Helen knelt beside MJ and gently called her name, checking how easily she responded and listening to her breathing. MJ groaned and tried to cover her face with the pillow, proving that she was at least awake enough to react. Helen then looked toward Peter and noticed that he had placed a pillow behind MJ to keep her from rolling onto her back.
"You handled this well," Helen whispered. "But she's far too drunk to be left alone, and I don't want her standing in a shower unless Gwen and I are supporting her. Peter, bring us clean pajamas, several towels, a large bowl, and a glass of water for when she's awake enough to drink."
Peter nodded and quickly gathered everything Helen requested. Once he returned, he left the supplies outside MJ's bedroom and stepped into the hallway to give them privacy. Gwen and Helen carefully helped MJ sit up, and although she complained weakly, she was unable to remain upright without both of them supporting her.
"We need to get you cleaned up," Gwen explained as she brushed MJ's hair away from her face. MJ slowly focused on her before giving her a sleepy smile. "Gwen," she mumbled. "Your boyfriend carried me like a princess."
Gwen's eyebrows rose as she glanced toward the closed bedroom door. "Did he?" she asked, sounding more amused than jealous. MJ nodded proudly before immediately regretting the movement and clutching her head. "He's strong," she whispered. "And warm."
"Peter is also standing on the other side of that door while covered in your vomit," Gwen reminded her. "So maybe save the compliments until after you apologize to him." A quiet voice came through the door a moment later. "I accept apologies in cash or replacement shirts."
Helen shook her head before helping Gwen guide MJ toward the bathroom. They kept the shower quick and used lukewarm water while supporting her the entire time, never allowing her to stand alone. Once the vomit had been washed from her hair and skin, they dried her off, helped her into clean pajamas, and brought her back to bed.
Peter returned only after Gwen told him that it was safe to enter. By then, he had gone downstairs, thrown away his ruined shirt, and changed into an old T-shirt. He placed a fresh glass of water on the nightstand before setting the wastebasket within easy reach of the bed.
"We'll need to stay with her for a while," Helen said quietly. "She's breathing normally and responding when we speak to her, but someone needs to watch her. If she becomes difficult to wake or her breathing changes, we call an ambulance immediately."
"I'll stay," Peter answered without hesitation. "She lives here, and I'm not going to leave her alone." Helen studied him for a moment before giving him an approving nod, clearly impressed by how seriously he was taking the situation.
Gwen sat beside Peter on the floor with her back against MJ's bed while Helen occupied the chair near the window. For the next half hour, they kept the room quiet and periodically checked that MJ could still respond. Each time Peter asked how she felt, MJ either groaned or muttered something about never drinking again.
"You say that now," Peter whispered, "but wait until tomorrow morning. I plan on describing every single time you threw up on me in painful detail." MJ responded by weakly lifting one hand and giving him the middle finger without opening her eyes.
Gwen covered her mouth to hide a laugh, while even Helen struggled to keep a straight face. "She seems responsive," Gwen whispered. Peter nodded solemnly. "That might be the healthiest thing she's done all night."
Once Helen was satisfied that MJ's condition was stable, she stood and told Gwen it was time to go home. Before leaving, she reminded Peter to keep MJ on her side, remain nearby, and wake May if anything changed. Peter promised he would before walking them quietly downstairs.
At the front door, Helen rested a hand on Peter's shoulder. "You did the right thing tonight," she told him. "You protected MJ and her friends when they couldn't protect themselves. May would be proud of you, even if you're trying to keep this from her until morning."
Peter glanced toward the stairs and released a tired breath. "I'm not looking forward to that conversation." Helen smiled sympathetically as she opened the door. "I imagine MJ is going to enjoy it even less."
Gwen kissed Peter good night one more time before following her mother outside. "Message me if anything changes," she said. Peter promised he would and watched them drive away before returning upstairs, where MJ remained asleep on her side.