•AFTER THE WAR: SPIDER-MAN'S STORY [COMPLETED]•

Chapter 2

Peter got home earlier than usual that day. He wanted to surprise his aunt when she got back from work. After all, it was her birthday, and birthdays come only once a year. Peter started by taking the gift he had gotten her and wrapping it up in some brightly colored paper. Then he raced to his room and dumped his school bag on the bed. After digging around underneath it for a while, he found the streamers he had bought previously and some tape. Peter went back to the living area and taped a few of the streamers here and there, and finished his handiwork with a couple of balloons tied to the couch. Finally, he placed the wrapped gift on the table and stepped back to admire the room. Just then, the door opened behind Peter, and he spun around. "Surprise!" he shouted as Aunt May walked into their apartment. She gasped, then set down her bag and hugged Peter. "Oh Pete! You shouldn't have."

"But I did," Peter pointed out cheekily.

May laughed and replied, "Yes, yes you did. Thank you so much! It's exactly what I needed after a long day at work."

"How was today anyways?" he asked, trying to distract his aunt from the present on the table.

Too late. "Crazy as usual, and is that for me?" she asked, nodding at the parcel.

Peter went over and picked it up. "Yeah it is. Here you go," he said, handing it to her.

"Hang on, hang on, let me at least sit down first." May drew up a chair.

Peter waited in anticipation as she slowly opened the gift. It was a beautiful picture frame, containing a picture that he had printed out ages ago. It was a photo of the time Aunt May and Uncle Ben had taken Peter to an amusement park. All three stood outside the entrance, smiling at the camera as if they didn't have a care in the world.

Peter began explaining, slightly worried by his aunt's silence. "I could've gotten a better quality picture, but I wanted one that had the three of us in it, and-" He was cut off by May hugging him tightly. That hug said more than a thousand words to Peter, who understood immediately who she was thinking of.

---

That night, Peter exited his bedroom through the window. He shut the window as quietly as possible, then climbed up to the roof of his apartment building. He crouched down at the edge of the roof, looking around through the eyes of his mask. They had been specially made for him six months ago by the one and only Tony Stark. They were able to zoom in and out like a camera, making it easier to focus on targets. Peter used this feature now to detect a local thug skulking in the shadows of a deserted alleyway. Time to go to work. He stretched out his arm, releasing a long strand of sticky web fluid from his web shooters. Then he propelled himself off the roof, swinging on the rope he had made, and landed perfectly in front of his quarry. The man started and tried to run, but Peter was too fast for him. He shot out a web, tripping the man. He walked calmly over to him. "What do you know about Thomas Palmer's murder?" he questioned.

The man stared quizzically up at Peter. "What's it to you, Spider?" He spat out the last word harshly.

"That's not really for you to know, is it? Just tell me what you know and I'll let you go."

The man grinned up at him. "Nice rhyme." He stood up, brushing himself off as he spoke. "Just so this is clear, I don't know who snuffed out Palmer's lights or why. But I do know where the guy went and what he looked like. He's got a mask, like you, but his is of a skull, and he wore a dark cloak with the hood over his head. I saw 'em jumping out of a widow in Palmer's office building, middle floor I think it was, and he ran down the street. Being curious of course, I followed. I was able to keep up with 'em till he got to North Road, then he just... disappeared."

Peter watched the man carefully. "That's it?"

"That's all I got."

Peter nodded. "Okay. Thanks for the info." Before the man had a chance to reply, he jumped up and used his webs to launch himself into the air.

The man stared after him for a moment, then shrugged. "People these days," he muttered to himself as he started to walk away. "Don't know how to say a proper goodbye."