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. . .

My heart raced as the strange sensation gnawed at my mind. I stood next to Sophie, still pretending to fold blankets, but my focus was entirely elsewhere—on Peter Parker. The sound of his voice, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, it connected all of the pieces, he was the answer to the mystery I had been investigating.

When Andrea finally stepped away from Peter, I didn't hesitate. I handed Sophie the blanket I was folding and muttered, "I'll be right back."

Sophie barely had a chance to react before I was marching across the room, my steps determined. The busy chatter of the shelter faded as my focus narrowed in on the boy I was headed towards. He stood by one of the supply shelves, idly shifting through a box of donations, completely unaware of what was coming.

Without a word, I grabbed his wrist, yanking him away from the shelves. Peter stumbled, wide-eyed and confused.

"Hey! Wha—"

I didn't answer, pulling him toward the back of the shelter, toward the hallway marked 'Staff Only.' People around us barely noticed, too preoccupied with their tasks to pay attention. Peter, however, was beginning to panic, perspiration forming lightly on his forehead.

"Maggie, wait—what are you doing?" His voice wavered with a mix of confusion and anxiety. His mind raced through the possibilities. Was she still mad at him? Did he do something wrong?

I ignored him, my grip firm as we reached the hallway, pushing through the door that led to the quieter, more secluded area of the shelter when only a few staff were milling about. Once inside, the hum of the main room disappeared, leaving only the echo of our footsteps.

Peter tugged his wrist back, holding it to his chest the second I dropped it and turned to face him. "Seriously, what's going on? Why are you dragging me back here?"

Peter swallowed, his heart pounding. He had been in tough spots before—facing down criminals, swinging through the city as Spider-Man—but this was something different. My intensity made him feel like he was about to be more trouble than a simple fight with street thugs.

He stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot, and avoiding meeting my eyes. I took a step forward, my eyes narrowing and arms crossing as I studied him.

"You're Spider-Man"

Peter's face paled, his eyes widening as he quickly stammered, "W-What? No! I'm—what are you talking about? I'm not Spider-Man!" His voice was rushed, his words tumbling out in a frantic attempt to deny it, but there was a crack in his tone that I instantly saw through. He might have been able to convince others, but not me.

"You're a terrible liar, Parker." I watched him, unimpressed.

"I-Im not lying" He tried to shrug it off.

"I know you're lying" I stated back.

"How?" He asked, voice weary.

"I can hear your heartbeat, Bug Boy. It's racing right now. And when I said 'Spider-Man,' it jumped."

Peter froze. His breath caught in his throat, and for a split second, he didn't move. His heart, which had already been racing, picked up even more speed, hammering in his chest. He felt it, and apparently, the girl standing in front of him could hear it.

I smirked slightly with amusement, my gaze unwavering. "There it is again."

Peter swallowed hard, his palms growing sweaty as he struggled to keep his cool. But there was no hiding now—I had him cornered. His heart rate was betraying him, and I could hear every beat.

"Alright" Without thinking, Peter grabbed my wrist and pulled me further down the hallway, opening the door to a small, empty storage room. He quickly shut the door behind us, trying to block our conversation from any passerby's who might overhear.

"Maggie," He turned to face me, "How did you even—how did you figure it out?"

I leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, studying him like a puzzle which I had finally put together. "I told you, Parker. I can hear your heartbeat and it's the exact same as Spider-Boys."

"But how can you hear my heartbeat?" He stressed, probing me for answers now.

"I have really good hearing" I claimed with a shrug.

"How good?" Peter pressed further.

"Good enough to hear your heartbeat from where Sophie and I stood, if I focus on it that is"

"You can hear my heartbeat from across the room? Are you a mutant?" Peter asked next, eager as he thinks he finally figured out what was so strange about me.

"At least Im not running around New York wearing a red and blue onesie" I diverted the conversation back onto him.

Peter's shoulders sagged slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck, still struggling to grasp the situation. He felt trapped, like a deer caught in headlights. I had figured it out—his biggest secret—because of something he had never even considered. His heartbeat.

Peter's mind was still reeling, but there was something oddly comforting in the way I wasn't accusing him like Jameson or others had. Instead, I seemed more curious, more understanding than angry. He slumped against the wall across from me, letting out a long breath.

"So, what now?" he asked cautiously, watching me for any signs of what I might do next, the fear still ringing in the back of his mind.

I shrugged slightly. "I'm not going to out you, if that's what you're worried about. I just... wanted to know who my stalker was."

Peter let out a soft, nervous chuckle. "That's... reassuring. I guess."

We stood in silence for a moment, the tension still present but shifting into something more manageable. My eyes softened slightly as I looked at him, almost as if I was reading him like a book.

"You don't have to worry about me. I don't got many people to tell anyway"

Peter nodded, some of the weight lifting off his shoulders, but something was still on his mind. "Thanks, Maggie. For not, you know... blowing my cover."

A thought crossed him mind, a spark of an idea he couldn't ignore. "You know," he started, his voice lighter now, trying to break the tension that lingered in the small storage room, "if you've got heightened senses like that, you'd make a pretty great hero."

I frowned slightly, my arms still crossed, clearly not expecting that suggestion. "What?"

His energy shifting as he spoke faster, excitement starting to creep into his tone. "I mean, you've got abilities that could really help people. Hearing heartbeats, sensing things from far away... You could be out there, doing what I do. We could team up, even."

I blinked, staring at him like he'd just said something ridiculous. "No."

"No, seriously!" Peter insisted, his eyes lighting up. "Think about it. You wouldn't have to do it alone—we could work together. You've already got the fighting skills, and with those heightened senses of yours, you'd be incredible."

I shook my head, holding up a hand to stop him. "No, stop. I'm not a hero. That's not who I am. I keep to myself and no one gets hurt."

Peter's smile faded slightly as he took in my expression and tone of voice. "Why not? You've got powers, Maggie. You could help people."

I exhaled sharply, rubbing my temples. "Peter, I'm not like you. And besides, I've got enough on my plate just trying to live a normal life. The last thing I need is to get caught up in some hero business and have Jameson criticize my every action."

Peter took a step closer, trying to reason with me. "But Maggie—"

"Don't," I cut him off, my voice firm.

Peter hesitated, realizing he was pushing too hard. "Okay, okay, I get it. No means no." Peter nodded slowly, though disappointment tinged his expression.

I left Peter without another word, leaving him alone in the storage closet. After a moment the boy emerged with a smile on his face, thoughts returning to the girl he had just spoken to.

"What's got you all smiles?" May wondered, walking past him.

"N-nothing!" Peter called after her before quickly returning to the main room to sort out donations again.

I spotted Sophie still picking up dirty dishes, looking a little frazzled but focused. I joined her once, picking up where I left off as if nothing had happened.

Sophie glanced at me, arching a curious eyebrow. "What was that all about? You kind of disappeared on me."

I offered her a smile, nodding as I grabbed a stack of plates. "Nothing, just had to do something."

Sophie shot me another curious look but shrugged it off. "Okay, well, glad you're back. We've still got a mountain of work to get through."

I chuckled. "I'm on it."

As I worked beside Sophie, my thoughts briefly flickered back to Peter's offer. He wanted me to be a hero, believed that I could be a hero, but I knew deep down that wasn't my path. I had hurt too many people to be a hero.

After all, I did have the devil within me.

. . .

The apartment was quiet except for the low murmur of the television in the living room. Matt sat on the couch, his head tilted slightly as he listened intently to the evening news playing on TV. Tired from a long day at school with a debate meeting after, I stood in the kitchen, preparing to make myself a cup of tea to drink as I did my homework.

I dropped a tea bag into my mug, waiting for the water to boil, when a voice on the television caught my attention.

"Breaking news tonight as Spider-Man is caught in a rough confrontation downtown with a group of heavily armed criminals. The fight has escalated, and police are urging civilians to stay clear of the area..."

I froze, my hand tightening around the kettle's handle as the image of Spider-Man flashed across the screen. It showed shaky footage of him dodging gunfire, swinging between buildings. He looked cornered, his movements sharper and more frantic than usual.

My heartbeat quickened.

I stared at the screen, my mind racing. That was Peter. My classmate, who I now knew was out there risking his life. The boiling kettle whistled loudly, but I barely heard it, my thoughts a blur.

"Are you making tea, Maggie?" Matt's calm voice drifted in from the living room. He hadn't reacted to the news report, of course. He couldn't see what I could, and he didn't know what I knew.

I swallowed, forcing my voice to sound calm and steady. "Yeah, I'll bring you a cup too."

I poured the water, the sound of the bubbling liquid filling the quiet, but my eyes kept flicking to the TV screen. The fight was only getting worse. Spider-Man looked exhausted, his swings slower, his form sloppy. He wasn't going to last much longer without help.

My stomach twisted.

Peter was out there—alone—while I was standing here, safe and warm in my apartment, sipping tea. I stirred her cup absently, my gaze still glued to the footage of the fight. My heightened senses picked up every detail amongst the chaotic footage: the distant sound of sirens, the crackling of debris, the strained tone in Spider-Man's voice as he called out to civilians to get to safety.

I clenched the edge of the counter, my breath hitching as I watched Spider-Man miss a swing with his webs, troubling to the ground.

"Maggie, you alright?" My dads voice pulled me back for a moment, his sharp hearing picking up the shift in my breathing.

"I'm fine, Dad," I replied, but the lie felt bitter on my tongue.

I wasn't fine. Why did I care so much about this?

I quickly crossed the room, casting one more glance at the TV before heading toward my bedroom, tea mug in hand.

Once inside, I closed the door softly and leaned against it, my heart pounding in my chest. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to push the thoughts away.

It's not your responsibility. I kept telling myself that over and over.

But the image of Spider-Man, of Peter Parker, flashed in my mind, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I should be out there. I had abilities—senses that could help. And I couldn't just sit here while someone I knew, someone who trusted me with his secret, was out there fighting alone.

My fists clenched at my sides, the internal battle raging inside me. I never wanted to be a hero. I didn't want that life. But tonight, knowing that Peter was in danger, the guilt gnawed at me relentlessly.

He'd help you if the roles were reversed, a voice in my head whispered.

I exhaled sharply, pacing back and forth in my room, my mind racing. I didn't want to do this. I wasn't cut out for it. But every second that passed was another second Peter could be in more danger. He might be dying out there for all I know.

I paused by the window, her eyes narrowing as I made up my mind.

Damn it.

I grabbed my phone, connecting it to my speaker and playing music, hoping to cover the sound of my scrambling around my room. The intro riff of the song sounded out, iconic guitar rhythms fuelling my movements.

Quickly, I grabbed a black, long-sleeved shirt from my closet and pulled it over my head, tucking it into my black cargo pants. I reached for my combat boots, ones I'd worn about a thousand times, and laced them up tight, feeling the familiar comfort and control in the way they hugged my feet.

Back in black, I hit the sack. I've been too long, I'm glad to be back. Yes, I'm let loose from the noose that kept me hanging about.

My mind was racing, my heart pounding in my ears so loud I was shocked my dad couldn't hear it. I moved to my desk, pulling open a drawer and grabbing the long piece of black fabric I sometimes used as a makeshift blindfold during practice with my dad. 'You never let your guard down, even blinded' he always told me. I hesitated for a second, my fingers tracing the fabric before tying it tightly around my eyes, securing my dark waves in a high ponytail. I couldn't be recognized, especially not if things went south.

Forget the hearse 'cause I never die, I got nine lives Cat's eyes, abusin' every one of them and running wild. 'Cause I'm back

Next, I wrapped my fists with boxing tape, my movements fast but deliberate. My dad had taught me how to fight—really fight—and right now, that training was all I had to rely on. I wasn't swinging from webs or dodging bullets like Peter, but I knew how to hit back.

Once I was ready, I took a deep breath and quietly opened my window, slipping onto the fire escape. The cool night air stung my skin, and I felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as I moved swiftly down the metal steps. Every noise felt amplified in my heightened senses, the distant sirens growing louder with every step.

I paused for a moment, listening carefully. The fight wasn't far—just a few blocks away. I could already hear the sounds of chaos—clashing metal, shouting, and the distinct thwip of Spider-Man's webs.

I was going to help Peter.

And as much as it terrified me, there was no turning back now.

Well, I'm back in black.

Yes, I'm back in black

I climbed down the last ladder and landed softly in the alley, crouching low before darting into the shadows. I kept to the edges of the street, my senses guiding me as I weaved between buildings, getting closer to the battle, sounds amplified.

As I approached, I ducked behind a parked car, peeking over it to get a better view. In the middle of the street, Spider-Man was facing off against a group of armed thugs, all heavily equipped and clearly out for blood. Peter was holding his own, but he was getting tired, his movements slower than usual. One of the thugs swung a metal pipe at him, and though Peter dodged it, another slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground.

My heart lurched in my chest.

Without thinking, I sprinted forward, my body moving on instinct. I closed the distance quickly, focus locked on the man looming over Spider-Man, about to land another blow.

"Hey!" I yelled loudly, voice cutting through the noise.

The man turned just in time to see my fist connect with his jaw. He stumbled backward, shocked by the sudden attack. I wasted no time, my body fluid as I dropped low and swept his legs out from under him with a sharp kick. The thug hit the ground hard, groaning in pain.

Peter, still on the ground, blinked in surprise under his mask, watching me fight off a large man.

"Maggie?" Peter whisper called over to me as he struggled to sit up. "What the—what are you doing here?"

"Saving your ass," I shot back, a sharpness in my tone filled with the stress of the situation I found myself in. I had turned my head in the direction of Peter, hearing his heart pound strongly. My focus faltered from the fight for just a second.

That second was all it took.

One of the thugs, a massive brute with a bat, slammed it into my side. The force knocked the air out of my lungs, and I stumbled back, pain radiating through her ribs which I clutched at with my shaky hands. Before I could recover, another shove sent me back into a brick wall with a thud, head hitting the bricks and air being forced from my lungs.

"Maggie!" Peter's voice rang out, panicked as he saw me crumble to the ground.

Dazed, I blinked, struggling to push myself up. My vision swam for a moment, and I could feel the throbbing pain spreading through my side and shoulder. I grit my teeth, trying to catch my breath, but my body felt sluggish, heavy.

Looking over, the world spun, my name ringing through my ears like an echo.

Spider-Man, now fully determined, swung back into action, taking down the last few thugs with a ruthless efficiency. His movements were sharper, faster, and it only took him moments to web up the remaining men and finish the fight. He fired webs in quick succession, disarming one thug, knocking another into a wall, and webbing them all securely to the nearest light pole.

Once the fight was over, Peter didn't waste any time. He rushed over to where I was still slumped against the wall, my hand pressed to my side and the black mask pulled up over my forehead.

The street was quiet again.

Spider-Man landed beside me, breathing hard, his mask slightly askew and his suit scratched up from the fight. He stared at me, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.

"Maggie, are you okay?" Peter asked, breathless as he knelt beside me, offering me his hand.

I glanced at his outstretched hand, ignoring it as I pushed herself up, wincing at the pain but determined to get up on my own. "I'm fine," I muttered, brushing off his concern even though my ribs felt like they were on fire and the slight creaking of my bones did not resemble being fine.

Peter hovered close, his eyes full of concern. "You don't look fine. That guy hit you pretty hard."

"Nothing I can't handle," I grumbled, standing on shaky legs, but still avoiding his hand.

Peter sighed, standing up beside me, clearly trying to ease the tension. "You know, if you didn't want me to carry you to safety like a damsel in distress, you could've just said so. But seriously, you took a pretty hard hit. You should really take some Advil when you get home. It'll help with the pain."

I shot him a withering look, and Peter held up his hands in surrender, a playful grin creeping onto his face. "Hey, I'm just saying. You'd make a pretty awesome hero, Maggie. You..." Peter started, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really do care."

"Yeah... well... the catholic guilt wasn't gonna let you die out here."

Peter laughed, the sound rough and exhausted. "Guess I owe you one."

I glanced over at him with a glare. "Yeah, you do." I rolled my eyes, adjusting my ponytail and wincing again as I shifted my bruised ribs. "And I'm not a hero, Bug Boy."

"You keep saying that, but clearly, you've got the moves." He gave me a teasing smirk behind the red mask. "And if you joined me, we'd make a killer team. Think about it. Spider-Man and... whatever cool hero name we come up with for you."

"In your dreams" I claimed, before turning to leave down the dark alley.

He couldn't help but admire my spirit, even if it frustrated him a little. "Wait! Just let me give you a lift home. It's the least I can do after you saved my life."

I paused, glancing down the alley, where shadows swallowed the streetlights. "I don't need a lift, really."

"Come on! I promise I won't drop you," he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

I looked at him for a moment longer, then shook my head. "Thanks, but I'll be fine on my own."

Before Peter could protest, I stepped back into the shadows of the alley, blending seamlessly into the darkness. He blinked, momentarily startled, and then called after me, "Wait—"

But I was gone, slipping into the night like the shadows. Peter stood there for a moment, staring into the emptiness where I had been, surprised by how quickly I had vanished.

"Great," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Just when I thought I'd get to know her better." He let out a soft chuckle, the sound echoing off the brick walls. "Who just disappears like that?"

He turned to head back toward the street, a smile creeping onto his hidden face. "This new girl really is something else."

His mind buzzed with thoughts of the girl who came to his rescue—her bravery, her fire, the way she had jumped into the fray without a second thought. He couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her strength. Maybe I didn't want to be a hero, but I certainly had the heart of one.

"Guess I'll just have to find a way to keep her around," he said to himself, his voice filled with playful determination. He swung himself up into the air, a web shooting out to catch a nearby building.

As he soared into the night, the stars twinkling overhead, Peter felt a spark of excitement at the thought of what was to come. There was more to Maggie than met the eye, and he couldn't wait to find out what that was.

. . .

Question of the day: Who is your favourite Spider-Person?

Here it is! Maggie now knows Peter is Spider-Man! Do you think she will become a hero and join him?

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