CAT SCRATCH FEVER | PETER PARKER

Don't Get Your Panties In A Twist

Hanging his head down low, Peter could only stare at his scruffy sneakers as he walked home. He knew if he were to plug in his earbuds, a sad song would surely start playing. So he continued his lonely walk in silence with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company.

He had screwed up badly. He hadn't needed Black Cat's curse to say that; that was just the curse of being ol' Peter Parker.

How he was ever going to fix this, he had no idea. In fact, he had no idea how to fix any of this. A part of him had accepted this was going to be his life from now on. He was going to bear this scratch for the rest of his life. Oh well, at least it looked kinda cool.

Heaving a weary sigh, Peter unlocked the front door, not caring when the door handle came loose in his hand. He shut the door and went to his room, slowly beginning to strip off his clothes. Grabbing his suit, he slipped into it half-heartedly. Gone was the usual enthusiasm–the usual confidence gained when he put it on.

After securing his mask, Peter leaped out the window with a body that felt as if it were weighed down by cinderblocks. As he swung out towards Manhattan, he did none of the usual tricks Spider-Man was known for. For once, Peter made being Spider-Man look boring. He would simply just shoot a web and fly threw the air, looking as if he were a mannequin that had been flung.

It didn't take long before he grew bored of the wind whipping through his mask and against his skin, something he had never grown tired of before.

What was the point of being out here? What was he even looking for? He was no closer to figuring out Black Cat's identity, and he had no clue where she even was.

"Maybe my Peter tingle has finally given out," he muttered as he came upon the vast foliage that was Central Park. Swinging onto a nearby tree, Peter grabbed onto one of the branches before it unexpectedly snapped. It fell to the grass, bringing Peter down along with it. He hit the ground with a loud groan, nearly having the wind knocked out him. Not bothering to get up, Peter remained on the grass, curling into a fetal position. Hot tears welled in his eyes, stinging them after being held in for so long.

"Aww, rough day, Spider?"

Peter instantly jumped to his feet at the question, grateful she couldn't see his tears. "What do you want?" He spat, trying to stifle the crack in his voice.

"I saw you lying here and thought I could maybe cheer you up," Black Cat purred, slipping her arm around his back.

"You're the reason I'm lying here!" Peter shouted, breaking out of her grasp.

"Me?" She pointed to herself with an innocent smile. "What did I do?"

"Oh, let's see." He began counting off with his fingers. "You cursed me, you kissed me, and have just made my life a living hell since we've met!"

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy that kiss." She smirked as she inched in closer to him. "I've seen the way you look at me. The way you undress me with your eyes."

"First of all, you can't even see my eyes. Because if you could, you would know I'm rolling them right now." Peter scoffed as he folded his arms over his chest.

"And second of all?"

The web-slinger blinked, dropping his arms. "Actually, that's it. I don't have a second of all."

Black Cat giggled as she took a seat on a nearby bench. "You can't deny it hasn't been fun, Spider."

"Yes, I can." He tilted his head, watching as she opened the brown paper bag she had been carrying. "What are you even doing out here? Shouldn't you be robbing a bank or something?"

She shook her head, taking a bite of her sandwich. "Tonight's my night off."

"I didn't think criminals had nights off," he retorted, putting a hand on his hip.

"Ouch." Black Cat feigned a hurt expression. "That was rude, Spider-Man. Is it so wrong for a girl to just kick back and eat her dinner?"

Peter scrunched up his nose at the sight of her 'dinner.' "What kind of sandwich is that?"

"Avocado and tuna." She smiled before taking another bite.

"Gross. But at least, you didn't say mice."

Black Cat set down her sandwich with a frown. "I'll have you know that this is delicious. Want to try some?"

"Um, sure." Of course, he really didn't, but this was his chance to get in close to her. Using this as a distraction, he slowly creeped over to the woman until he was just inches away from her. In a flash of red and blue, his hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of her platinum blonde hair.

"What are you doing?!" she screamed as her head was yanked roughly to the side.

"Trying to see if this is a wig!" He tugged at her hair again before a clawed hand swiped at his face, narrowly missing it. Having to dodge her sudden attack, Peter was forced to let go of her.

"Wow, Spider. I didn't think you were into hair-pulling." Black Cat ran her nails through her disheveled hair, smoothing it out. "Who would have guessed Spider-Man was some sort of freak."

Peter let out an audible gulp as she started to approach him, unable to keep his eyes off the sharp claws that hung at her sides.

"Let's see what else you're into." She licked her dark red lips. Before Peter even had the chance to blink, Black Cat rushed at him and started tearing his costume to shreds with her nails.

"There, much better." She took a step back and admired her work.

Peter glanced down, letting out a shriek as he saw his suit in tatters. She had basically left him in his boxers!

"Hmm, not bad." A smirk crossed her face as she looked him up and down. "Shame I couldn't see everything though." Her finger traced his mask, the last remaining piece of his costume left still intact.

Flinching under her touch, Peter nearly lost his balance as he stumbled backward. "What the–How the–" he sputtered, trying in vain to cover himself.

"Only 24 hours left," Black Cat giggled. "You better get used to that bad luck of yours, Spider."

Unable to do anything else, Peter could only watch as the woman hurried up a tree before vanishing into the night.

"Oh, how am I going to explain this to May?" he whined, still trying to salvage his shredded suit. Seeing that it was beyond saving, Peter reluctantly started the long journey back home. As he swung across the city, Peter could only hope no one happened to be looking up.

"Nice underwear!" a man jeered from below.

Peter grimaced, pretending he hadn't heard them. Of course, it would be just his luck that someone would see him practically naked.

"You feel a breeze up there, Spider-Man?" Another woman laughed.

"Mommy, look!" A child pointed at him.

"Damn, who knew Spider-Man was shredded?" A teenager, who sounded an awful lot like Flash Thompson, whipped out his phone and started filming.

Scratch that, make it all of New York.