Stories Focussed On Spider-Man

Greg (P10)

A/N as always, Greg, Mike, and FABAE belong to ShyCourage

Greg stirred as the first beams of sunlight stretched across his face. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. "Good morning, Kid." He turned to face Spider-Man's empty sleeping bag. "Kid?" Mildly frantic, he groped around the empty blankets that were confirmed to not contain a teenager. Hastily, he threw on some clean clothes, if only so he wouldn't be searching for his kid while in pajamas.

Speaking of pajamas... weren't Spider-Man's peaking out of his bag? So, he had either changed or he was running around stark...

Greg shuddered and settled on the option of the vigilante having gotten up on his own free will, which zapped some of the urgency out of the situation.

Greg slipped out of the tent and peered into nature, squinting in order to make out all the shapes that were silhouetted by the rising sun. The other tents were visible, and so was the blackened fire pit, but no spider-teens were in sight. Greg spun around in a full circle, scanning the tree line. "Spider-Man?" he called out quietly, careful not to wake any of his friends up. "Where'd you wander off to?"

"Greg?" The man in question whipped around to face the source of the sound. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness under the canopy of trees, he began to make out the vague shape of a human hanging by his knees in a tree. The human waved. "Good morning!"

Greg rushed over to Spider-Man, taking in what he'd chosen for the day. He was barefoot - as Greg has come to expect from him when he didn't absolutely have to be wearing shows - and he sported a red t-shirt (yes, there was a dorky pun on it) with a dark jacket. There was a single strand of webbing that served to loosely connect the bottom of his shirt to the top of his pants. "You had me worried there for a second, Kiddo."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I woke up a while ago and didn't feel like watching you sleep. Felt creepy, y'know?"

Greg laughed. "How long have you been up?"

"Few hours."

Greg gave Spider-Man a look. "What happened to getting a full night of rest?"

Spider-Man shrugged halfheartedly. "Trauma nightmares are a butt. I can't control when I get them, and I can never fall back asleep afterwards."

Greg's heart dropped. Immediately, he started thinking back to what had been mentioned the day prior. Was it about the kid's late uncle? Or did it concern the short period where he had an abusive guardian?

"Don't."

Greg looked up.

Spider-Man sighed. "Don't bother trying to figure it out. If you gotta know, it was about him. Still, I don't like lingering on this sort of thing. Makes me feel silly."

Greg frowned. "You don't need to feel bad about it. It's a relatively normal response."

"Still doesn't make me feel better about it. But, it's fine. Don't worry about me."

Greg shook his head. "It's practically my job to worry about you, Kiddo."

Spider-Man flipped to the ground and led the way back into the clearing. "It's fine."

Greg opened his mouth to argue, but caught sight of Charles exiting his tent. "Whatever you say, Spider-Man."

"Morning, Greg," Charles waved. "Spider-Man. You guys are up early."

"The early spider catches the flies," Greg said, patting the teenager on the back.

"Spiders catch their prey in their webs, so it doesn't really make a difference what time they wake up," Spider-Man pointed out.

Greg scowled at him. "Teenagers," he mumbled under his breath.

Spider-Man laughed. "Oh, you know you love me."

"Don't get too cocky, K- Short-Stack."

Spider-Man pouted. "Aw, not you too!"

"In his defense, it is your primary physical feature from our perspective," Charles pointed out mirthfully.

"Don't back him up, Charlie Brown - can I call you Charlie Brown?"

"If I can call you Short-Stack, sure."

"nO! You may not call me Short-Stack!"

"Whatever you say, Shortie," Charles smirked. When Spider-Man glared playfully, Charles tossed up his hands. "What? They're two very different nicknames."

"Hmp!"

Greg laughed and ruffled Spider-Man's hair. "C'mon, Spider-Man. Have you ate?"

"I had one of those calorie bars that I mentioned last night. So, I'm fine for now, but I could totally eat."

"You're starving, got it," Greg concluded.

"I can go get some stuff for breakfast," Charles volunteered just before disappearing.

"I swear," Spider-Man laughed, "you're just as dramatic as FABAE."

"Someone has to monitor you when your aunt isn't around, Moró," FABAE drawled, causing Spider-Man to blush.

"Moró?" Greg repeated.

"I think she found the internet translators," Spider-Man explained. "She's been making nicknames up in all sorts of different languages, somehow always making sure that they aren't in any of the ones I know."

"So, what's she usually say?"

Spider-Man shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I'm assuming it's something along the lines of what she says in English."

"FABAE?" Greg asked. "How accurate is he?"

"I'll never tell," she beamed. "It's my little secret."

Spider-Man paused. "You're keeping a secret! Nice job, FABAE! Sarcasm, contractions, secrets - you're really growing, huh?"

FABAE giggled. "Thanks, Infans!"

Greg grinned. "So, she's really growing and changing with time, huh?"

"Of course she is," Spider-Man smiled. "She might not have a physical body, but she's just as human as I am."

FABAE let out a happy whir.

"She's definitely amazing, Kiddo. I'm proud of both of you."

A/N this is the last Greg part that will be put up here. To follow the rest of the story, go to Wanted: The FanPeople Love Greg.