Peter sat in the passenger seat, the crinkling of the newspaper filling the quiet car as Uncle Ben navigated the morning traffic.
His eyes skimmed over the headlines, catching snippets of the latest vigilante reports—heroes making a name for themselves, some saving lives, others leaving destruction in their wake.
One headline made Peter pause. A familiar name jumped out at him: Jewel. The Daily Bugle had captured her moment of heroism—she had just saved a dozen hostages from a bank robbery. Peter couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within him.
"She's off to a strong start," Peter muttered to himself, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 'Well done, Jewel.'
The reason she doesn't face the same criticism as Spider-Man is simple: she's a woman. If she were a man, the *Daily Bugle* would have roasted her alive.
When Uncle Ben pulled up to the curb near the school, Peter folded the newspaper neatly in half and tucked it behind the seat.
"Peter," Uncle Ben began, his voice steady but serious, "when I was your age, I was a rowdy kid. I didn't know the first thing about responsibility. But life has a way of teaching you—sometimes the hard way. Let me tell you, it's not something you want to learn too late. You've got a responsibility, not just to yourself, but to your family and the people who care about you. And with the gifts you've been given, Peter, never forget: with great power comes great responsibility."
Peter nodded, "I understand, Uncle Ben. Thanks."
He opened the car door, slung his bag over his shoulder, and headed toward the school entrance.
The school day started off like any other, but when the lunch break rolled around, Peter made his usual trek to the library. He found his usual spot and sat down, Jessica sliding into the seat beside him.
Her gaze locked onto him, sharp and probing. "Okay, spill it. What really happened?"
Peter exhaled heavily, raking a hand through his hair. "I ran into someone… someone who kills for fun. Barely got out of there in one piece."
Jessica's eyes widened in alarm. "What? Are you serious? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Peter said, trying to sound convincing, though the tension in his voice betrayed him.
She leaned in closer, her tone firm. "Did you tell your uncle and aunt?"
"No," Peter replied quickly. "They'd freak out, and it'd only make things worse. It's better if they don't know."
Jessica frowned but didn't push further. "You're walking a tightrope, Peter. Just… be careful, okay?"
"Yeah," he murmured, his eyes drifting to the table. "I will."
"What makes you think I won't freak out and tell them?" Jessica asked, her voice tinged with both disbelief and concern.
Peter met her gaze with a quiet intensity. "Because I trust you, just like you trust me."
Jessica blinked, surprised by the weight of his words. She hadn't realized how highly Peter thought of her, and the realization made something stir in her chest.
Without thinking, she reached over and took his hand in hers. Her fingers curled around his, but her worry was still evident in the crease of her brow. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Peter squeezed her hand gently, offering a faint but reassuring smile. "I'm perfectly fine. Don't worry about me."
But Jessica wasn't convinced. "You just barely escaped a near-death situation. That has to be terrifying, right?" She didn't want him to fall into the same dark place she had—a place she'd fought hard to pull herself out of.
Peter shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "A little bit," he said nonchalantly. Then, with a sly grin, he added, "And, just so you know, we can't hang out after school anymore. I'm grounded for a month."
Jessica chuckled softly, though a hint of disappointment flickered in her eyes. "Too bad. But I can still hang out at your place," she said with a teasing smile. "If you want me to, that is."
Peter chuckled, his fingers tightening around hers. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"I'll give you a call later when I'm free," Jessica said, a playful hint in her voice.
The school bell rang, and the day came to a close. Peter returned home, but before he could settle in, he asked Uncle Ben for a favor. "Hey, can you help me drop off the book I borrowed from the library?"
Uncle Ben nodded, and they both headed to the car. On the way there, Peter's phone rang, and he glanced at the screen before answering.
"I'm sorry, Peter," Jessica's voice came through the speaker, sounding apologetic. "I'm a little busy today. I can't hang out after all."
Peter's shoulders slumped slightly, but he kept his tone light. "Alright, no problem. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, bye Peter. I've gotta go," she said quickly, and with that, the call ended.
Uncle Ben, glancing over, raised an eyebrow. "Who called you?"
"My girlfriend," Peter replied, a small, sheepish grin tugging at his lips.
Uncle Ben chuckled softly, eyes on the road. "Well, looks like someone's popular."
Across the city, in a secluded area, Jessica—now clad in her Jewel suit—was diving into the chaos unfolding below. The scene in the research lab was pure destruction: steel walls were crumpled, shattered glass littered the floor, and in the center of it all stood a massive figure. A man dressed in full green armor, his tail whipping through the air with menacing intent, was tearing through everything in his path.
"WHERE IS HE?" the armored man roared, his voice vibrating with fury.
The scientists huddled in fear, terror-stricken by the sight of the monster before them. They had seen him before. They knew who he was, and they knew that nothing could stop him.
A wicked grin spread across the man's face as his eyes locked onto his target. "Ah, I found you," he snarled, and his tail swung forward with deadly precision, aiming for a single, crushing strike.
"Gargan, please, stop!" one of the scientists pleaded, his hands raised in a desperate attempt to shield himself. His voice trembled with both fear and authority. "This won't help you!"
Jewel soared through the air, her form cutting through the smoke and debris. She arrived just in time to see the armored man's tail whip toward the scientist, poised to strike. Without hesitation, she slammed into the man with a powerful Superman punch right to his face. The impact sent him crashing backward, his massive frame slamming into the wall with a sickening thud.
"Get out, now!" Jewel shouted, her voice commanding as she pointed toward the hole in the wall.
The scientists scrambled to their feet, their panic evident as they rushed toward the exit she indicated. One scientist, the same one Gargan had been chasing, turned to her, his voice shaky but filled with gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered, before hurrying off with the others.
Jewel nodded briefly, her focus entirely on the looming threat ahead. The fight wasn't over yet.
The man slowly pushed himself to his feet, his movements deliberate and menacing. He spat out a mouthful of blood, his eyes burning with rage.
"Fucking wench," he muttered under his breath, his voice a low growl. "I almost had him. Now I have to start all over again."
Jewel stood her ground, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. "Who are you?" she demanded. "And what's your purpose here?"
She needed to understand his motives, to get inside his head before the situation escalated further.
"Scorpion," the man hissed with a twisted grin. "And I want revenge."
Before Jewel could respond, Scorpion lunged at her, his tail snapping forward with deadly precision. She reacted instantly, floating backward a few meters, narrowly avoiding the strike.
But Scorpion was relentless. With a hiss, he unleashed a green blast from the tip of his tail, the energy hitting Jewel square in the chest. The force of the blast sent her flying out of the research lab, crashing through the wall and into the open air.
Jewel hit the ground hard, her body trembling as she struggled to breathe. She coughed violently, clutching her chest, tears welling in her eyes from the searing pain that radiated through her body.
'I can't breathe.'
The thought echoed in Jessica's mind as the pain surged through her, her body struggling to take in air.
The Scorpion wasn't done yet. His attack was relentless, his eyes burning with fury as he rushed toward her, his tail aimed to strike her down with deadly force.
In a moment of pure instinct, Jessica reacted—not with defiance, but with fear. She flew upward, retreating, desperate to escape the onslaught. She had never felt anything like this before, not the way her body shook from the impact of the blast, not the way the pain seemed to consume her from the inside out.
She finally found a moment of respite, landing hard on a nearby rooftop. Her suit was singed in the center, the fabric burned away, exposing the raw, inflamed skin beneath.
She lay there, her breath coming in ragged gasps, every inhale is a struggle.
Tears welled up in Jessica's eyes, but she quickly squeezed them shut, trying to push the pain away. In the darkness behind her closed lids, Peter's face appeared, a comforting image that helped anchor her thoughts. She needed to hear his voice. She needed something familiar. Desperate, she fumbled for her phone and dialed his number.
Peter was in the middle of assembling his web-shooters, the tiny components scattered across his desk. He paused when his phone rang, glancing at the screen before picking it up. "What's up?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
But there was no response from her side—just the sound of ragged breathing, and a slight, almost imperceptible smile from Jessica as she held the phone to her ear.
"Are you okay? You sound winded," Peter said, the concern in his voice growing. "Did something happen?"
His mind raced. 'Did she lose a fight' he wondered, his heart skipping a beat at the thought.
"I'm fine," Jessica said, her voice strained as she fought to keep the tears at bay. "Just finished a little exercise." She tried to make light of it, but the pain still lingered.
"Why are you calling me?" Peter asked,
Jessica's tone softened, almost sheepish. "I just... wanted to hear your voice," she admitted.