We Need A Plan

Chapter One

"Here you are Ma'am," Spiderman handed a purse back to an old lady with a polite nod.

"Oh, thank you! Please, is there any way I can repay you?"

"Only by having a great evening," Peter smiled underneath his mask before giving the lady two thumbs up, "stay safe."

The lady smiled graciously and walked away as Peter shot his web-shooters and flew through the city.

Since the incident with Dr. Strange, Peter had spent the majority of his time as Spider-man. He had nothing better to do and thought it best to help people.

What did Aunt May say? "With great power comes great responsibility." He was a friendly neighbourhood Spider-man and it was his duty to his city... to his Aunt, to protect it.

Peter visited her grave often. He would tell her how his week had gone and the storys he had heard.

He visited MJ's work too. Even if it was just for a coffee: it was nice to see her. Ned was almost always there. Peter missed them both greatly but he knew it was best not to interfere... even if sometimes all he wanted to do was to tell them everything.

After a couple hours of being Spider-man, Peter grabbed a slice of pizza and sat on the edge of the roof of a random building. The sun was slowly setting and the sky was a pink and peach colour. He closed his eyes as he heard the loud hustle and bustle of the city below him. Peter swung his legs backwards and forwards in the gentle breeze as he took a deep intake of breath.

He smiled.

This was his favourite part of the day. When the sun sets and people are heading home to their families. It's when people begin to relax and take time for themselves. It's the time of day when he reflects on his thoughts and memories of those he loves.

Peter took the last bite of his pizza and laughed to himself as he remembered the cat he tried to save out of a tree earlier that day. The cat had panicked and dug it's claws into his head.

As Peter stood up; his laughter quickly faded. He looked below him and noticed a woman speaking over the phone in a hushed whisper.

"It's none of my business," Peter insisted, but his body betrayed him.

He took a step closer to the edge of the roof and looked down at the woman. She had dark purple hair and wore a black jacket. She appeared angry over the phone.

"-no! This is not good! Don't you understand? We just lost ourselves a Black Widow! She is not going to get away with this. No- what? Don't interrupt me! I swear if you call me that one more time-"

Peter had tuned out at this point. A Black Widow? His breath had quickened as he took a steadying breath. This isn't possible. Natasha Romanoff is dead. Right?

He pushed down the hundreds of questions in his head and looked over the roof again. The woman had disappeared.

"Shit."

Peter stood up quickly and jumped off the side of the building. He shot his web-shooter before he hit the ground and began to swing through the city towards his apartment.

As he reached his window, he slammed it open, climbed in and ripped off his mask.

Thoughts rushed in and out of his head of what could be going on: he didn't understand. He paced around his room and rubbed his forehead; stress radiating off of him.

"Okay, okay okay okay okay," Peter calmed down, slowly taking a seat and closing his eyes.

He took a deep breath as he attempted to collect his thoughts and form a plan, "so, somebody is after a Black Widow. The only Black Widow I know is Natasha Romanoff and she is... dead."