Ch. 12: The Price

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"After I hung up my heart for you darling. And I said, "If you need me, all you have to do is call." I stood up and told the whole, wide world that you were good for me, baby. You walked away and left me standing like a fool. You see what you cost me? You see what you've caused? And I know just what I've lost. And I know what the price I paid, I paid, I paid for loving someone like you. Oh I can hear my friends saying I told you, I told you, I told you." - Solomon Burke

* * *

"I don't mean to alarm you."

"Do I look alarmed?" you snapped while delicately lifting Webs away from Adrian Toomes. Under normal circumstances, you knew that you should be more concerned with an escaped convict who had already attacked you once sitting in your living room.

But he wasn't dressed like Vulture. He was in jeans and a flannel shirt and he was wearing glasses. He looked tired and ragged and worn - he looked like a dad. But you knew that looks could be deceiving. As you perched yourself hesitantly on the edge of your coffee table in front of him you were reminded of the fact that this was probably what Toomes had been wearing when he'd pulled a gun on a freshmen in high school and threatened to kill him - when he'd threatened to kill Peter. Your Peter.

"Look, I'm really sorry about what went down at Stark," Toomes scratched the back of his head, "I was kind of hoping no one would be there. I knew the whole place would lock down if there was a break-in and ... well, you and that other kid just happened to be there."

"You didn't have to attack me."

"You didn't have to instigate me," Toomes raised an eyebrow, "I could see it in your eyes. You were looking for a fight."

You scoffed and scratched behind Webs's ears. "You were going to hurt my friend."

"I was only going to kick him around a bit," Toomes rolled his eyes, "After everything Stark took from me I figured scaring the shit out of his kid would be poetic payback."

"What are you doing here? You know I could call Peter and he'd come and take you in."

Toomes smirked and laced his hands together in his lap, "No offense, but after that voicemail I just heard, I don't think you and your lover boy are on the greatest of speaking terms. What happened, anyway?"

You glared at him, "As if that's your business."

"It kind of is," Toomes said, putting his hands up in defense, "I know your boy is Spider-Man. At this point, it seems like quite a lot of people do. But you know who doesn't?"

"The rest of the world?"

"Whitney Frost."

You blood ran cold and you stood, letting go of Webs who jumped from your arms and curled back up on the sofa next to Toomes's thigh.

"Are you threatening to tell her if I don't do what you want?" you hissed, "You're threatening to expose Peter if -"

"I'm not going to expose the kid," Toomes rolled his eyes, "Have you seen him? He's a walking zombie already. Besides, with that whole thing -" Toomes gestured to his left arm and winced, "- crawling up his arm I wouldn't be surprised if he's got much longer anyway."

"What thing?" you asked hurriedly. Fear for Peter was trickling through your veins like ice and you felt a tight knot in your gut and chest squeezing the breath from your lungs.

Toomes rubbed his eyes, "The thing is Y/N - can I call you Y/N?" he asked, and when he was met with silence he simply continued, "The thing is, I didn't ask to be broken out of prison."

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