Maybe it was him staring at the 44% in red on the test for to long, maybe it was you talking to loud, or maybe it was the days of being awake, fighting crime, getting hurt. He would never know. But the unbearable headache he had made it impossible not to explode when you teased him for having bad grade. He knew you were joking. But he didnt care. He was so done with all of it. He barely heard himself say the sentence that began with "F-" and then "off" his mind too fuzzy as he stormed out of the room. Trying not to wince at the sudden movement of his torse which had been shot. He was not doctor but he "took care of it."

He knew he shouldve apologized after school, he was being a D I C K. But you would've probably just asked what had been going on with him, he couldn't tell you. He couldn't let someone else shoulder his burden of being Spiderman and also telling you his mom was so stoned he had to work for her to feed his three other siblings. The sound of a gun shot snapped him out of his thoughts, he swung down. Just another bank robbery. He quickly took care of it, restraining the bank robbers. 1 2 3.. wait didnt he see a fourth- sudden pain when through his shoulder, then one his his stomach. He didnt give himself time to react to the pain before the guy was tied up in webs. Just some gun shot wounds.. his vision blurred.. he just had to get back to his apartment.. he'd patched himself up before he was fine. Everything swam together as he swung.. his mind drifting away as he suddenly felt sharp objects trickle his skin. FUCK he went through someone's window. He tried to scramble to get up but he groaned out in pain. The light turned on.. he squinted at the bright light. fuck this was your apartment.