Part 2: When The Clouds Are Blotting Out The Sky

...That Failure Can't Get Through

As Peter neared his house, he noticed a large group of people, some of them screaming and calling for help, around a block over. His curiosity got the better of him, so he headed over.

When he reached the center of the crowd, he felt his heart stop.

The world froze, and Peter's breath caught in his throat.

Lying on the ground, bleeding out from a wound on his chest, was his Uncle Ben.

"UNCLE BEN!" Peter yelled and fell to his knees. Tearing off his hoodie, he pressed it to the hole, trying to staunch the flow.

"Please, Ben. Stay with me. You're going to be okay."

"Peter," whispered Ben softly, reaching a shaky hand to gently ran a hand through the boy's hair.

The blood flow wasn't slowing down, and Ben's breaths were becoming raspier by the moment.

"Take care of your aunt. I love you both so, so much. You're destined for great things Pete, I know it."

An ambulance and a police car screeched to a stop. Paramedics and officers leapt out.

Ben smiled weakly. "I love you, Peter."

Tears streaming down his cheeks. Peter put one hand on Ben's chest, and entwined his other one with his uncle's hand. "I love you, Uncle Ben."

The man smiled and exhaled once.

His face fell slack.

Peter screamed.

The rest of the night was a blur. Someone had called May, and she'd wrapped her arms around him, taking comfort in each other's warmth.

The woman was shaking. She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. Peter had been there as he took his last breaths, and May could only imagine how awful he felt.

After around an hour, May and Peter were sitting on their front porch, surrounded by police officers and witnesses offering condolences and collecting information about what happened.

Suddenly, a police officer's walkie-talkie crackled, causing Peter to look up, his eyes red and puffy.

He tapped May's wrist. "I need to take a walk," said the teenager.

"I'll come," said May, standing up.

Peter shook his head. "No. I need to be by myself."

Without waiting for an answer he took off running down the block.

Due to Peter's enhanced hearing, he was able to hear exactly what information had been relayed when the police officer's radio had crackled. The thief had been cornered by a warehouse, and was armed. The brunette pulled on his mask and web-shooters, and reached the address where he was hiding.

The teenager snuck in through a back entrance, and saw a man cowering behind a stack of crates.

The criminal noticed him, and tried crawling away, holding out the gun in front of him. "I have a gun! I won't hesitate to shoot again!"

Peter shot a web, yanking the gun out of his hands.

"YOU KILLED HIM!" he screamed, picking up the man by his collar.

The man's eyes widened. "Please don't kill me, I didn't mean to shoot!"

"I DON'T CARE!" shouted Peter, punching him in the face.