What Heroes Do

Walking in no specific direction, Peter was crestfallen over the events on the roof, not paying much attention to what was happening around him. He flipped through the pages of his notebook, observing the diagrams and notes of the different heroes he'd seen witnessed fighting; be it live or on the internet.

Groot…

"He'll never be a hero, better someone tell him now rather then later…"

The new Ant-Man…

"You serious? Puny Parker wants to go to M.A!?"

Until he reached Iron Man's signature.

"Maybe life decided you won't become a hero…"

"You knew it…" The boy muttered bitterly to himself. "Deep down you always knew there was no way. Why did I keep trying after all those years? Flash was right, it's just a stupid dream that'll never work out. Even now, when a Quirk literally falls into my lap, I don't get to keep it-"

Suddenly, he heard a crash. It came from somewhere nearby. He turned in the direction of the noise, and saw a crowd of people across the street. At the mouth of an alley, maybe that was where the tremors came from. His feet had taken him there without meaning to and he crossed the street.

Why did I come here? My notes are useless now, what could I-

The words died in his mind and his eyes widened when he recognized the villain responsible for all the commotion. It was the same one who attacked him just over an hour ago: Carnage.

"Wait, it can't be, I saw Iron Man capture him! I-" Then he remembered the containment chamber that Tony had trapped the psychopath in. He also remembered clearly how it wasn't with him when they spoke on the roof. It all becomes clear to the boy. He must've dropped it. It's all my fault...

"Why aren't the heroes doing anything?" Peter asked a person in the crowd.

"Apparently, the heroes are no match for this one," he replied. "Plus, the villain captured a kid, things aren't looking too good for him..."

"He captured someone?" Peter recalled his own experience. "I wonder how long he's been there?"

"Wait, I'm confused," said another guy from the crowd, "Wasn't that the same villain Iron Man was chasing this morning?"

"What? Iron Man!? Really? So where is he!?" Asked someone else.

"Well, can anyone call him or something?" A woman added.

"Seriously, why hasn't he come and help these heroes?" Another one questioned.

On the opposite side of the crowd, Tony, listening to all these comments, could do nothing but sink deeper into his own thoughts. People were depending on him, and there he was, unable to do anything. "Pathetic..." The hero blamed himself.

Likewise, the brown haired boy was also drowning in his emotions: pain, guilt, sadness, fear. This is all my fault, he thought. If I hadn't made Iron Man waste all that time talking to me...

I'm useless... Thought Tony, pulling his hood up even more while placing his hand over the reactor, cursing it.

He can't wear the armor, and none of the other heroes has a quirk suitable for facing Carnage... Come on, there's gotta be something that can be done. Isn't there another hero around!? The boy felt the weight of his actions fall on his shoulders, the weight of a life in his hands. And yet, he clung to the little flame of hope in his heart, desperately not knowing what else to do.

"I-I'm not a real hero..." Peter muttered, trying to snap himself out of it. "Someone, a real hero will come..." He tried to justify himself, grasping that faint hope again. But then, he heard the hostage grunt, it was a familiar noise.

Then Peter saw it; a familiar head of blonde hair was hair was recognizable in the middle of the red goo. The victim struggled to survive, until he opens his eyes. It was Flash Thompson, the boy who tormented him for years. His classmate and former friend. And in a single, fleeting moment, his gray eyes made contact with Peter's, as if pleading.

"...Help me..."

The boy didn't think twice, or at all really. His hand dropped the notebook and it fell open, his legs moving on their own as he charged out from the crowd. Tony's eyes widened as the scene unfolded, as did the other heroes'. It was completely unexpected, and once rational thought returned to Peter's brain, he was already halfway to the villain and Flash.

"NO! YOU IDIOT!" Screamed Thing at the boy.

"YOU'LL END UP KILLING YOURSELF!" Rocket yelled after him.

But Peter didn't care, or even listen. Something raw and instinctual had taken over and the one thing in his mind was getting over to the villain.

"So it's you again!" Recognized the villain.

"Pa-Parker?" Flash was only seconds away from passing out, but the moment he recognized the approaching figure, his eyes widened.

What am I doing!? The boy thought to himself, recovering a little of his conscience. Why am I running? And to save FLASH of all people!?

"Now you die!" Yelled Carnage, shooting tendrils at the boy.

Suddenly, a tingling sensation ran up Peter's neck, and he began to dodge the sharp, red protrusions. Slipping, weaving, even jumping over one of them to get closer to the monster.

How the hell am I doing this!? What do I do now!? His mind was racing, yet his body was moving on instinct. He had to improvise a strategy, What would a hero do?

Carnage prepared to slam a giant hand on top of the boy. The tingling sensation returned, and Peter leapt out of the way, harder and higher than he intended. He was heading for a concrete wall and he had no way of stopping.

Once again, the tingle seemed to direct what the boy should do. Twisting his body around, he landed high up in the wall, his hands and feet sticking to the surface.

"Huh!?" Carnage was taken aback by these new developments, before launching another tendril at Peter, this one shaped more like an ax. The tingle told him to jump, and Peter leapt even higher towards the villain.

His mind went to his notebook, Create a distraction!

"Take that!" The boy grabbed his yellow backpack and swung it into the villain's big eyes. The attack itself wasn't too powerful, but it hit the target dead on and Carnage howled with pain.

He went back and forth with his head and body, absorbing the impact and releasing the part that prevented Flash from breathing. The boy inhaled deeply and started coughing.

"Flash!" Peter called, landing in front of his classmate and frantically pulling the goo off of him.