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It’s very funny that this keeps happening to him. It’s not like he goes looking for the bad guys with drugs. They always just happen to be doing their deeds whenever he’s around to catch them.
That’s why Spider-Man ended up at the gas station. A BP to be exact because you won’t find drug dealers at any ol’ mom and pop run gas station. Not since they wised up after one particular station in Brooklyn got shut down for illegal dealings.
It wasn’t even the owner's fault.
Spider-Man had finished webbing up the dealers outside by the dumpster. He’d called the police already even though he heard the cashier behind the counter put in a request before him.
That was before the world flipped on its side and everything started hurting his eyes. His center of gravity felt obscure as well.
“Do you think that… birds know?” He’d seen a pigeon earlier pecking at the lost shoe of one of the criminals. It was on his mind.
“Know what?” Their voice warbled. He couldn’t clearly see their face from under their BP visor. Frankly, he hadn’t even noticed them standing there before they spoke. His spider-senses weren’t tingling so he assumed he was alright.
“Uh, just like… things.” Because it was profound. At least he thought it was. He knew his eyes were wide behind the lenses, pushing said lenses into a comically large look. “Like normal things. I don’t know. Just things in general.”
The BP visor shook in a negative fashion. Trembling slightly with what he assumed were natural shakes of the gas station garment. Why else would it be shaking? The visor seemed to groan at the thought. Spidey shook his head and swallowed heavily before agreeing.
“Are you gonna come down from the ceiling? I gotta clean your footprints up, man.”
Spidey scoffed and jutted up from his spot on the ceiling. To be quite honest, he hadn’t even realized. “Mr. Bep— or would you prefer BP?” He paused waiting for a response. Staring into the visor’s flap trying to see if he could make out any eyes under there.
“Uh…”
“Too formal? What like, B is your first name?” Spidey dropped down from the ceiling in a clunky fashion. He let out a short huff after bumping his hip on the top of one of the aisle end caps.
“No I— it’s Jason.”
Spidey stopped breathing for a second. Observing the scene before him now that he was upright. How wrong everything felt. How terrible his head was pounding now. “Jason, I’ll have you know… my aunt didn’t raise a slob. My feet are the least dirty thing about me.”
He continued staring at the visor. Watching it shift every now and then. Like it was pondering something he didn’t quite understand. That was all while the background seeped up around him, swallowing his figure into the blank space behind him. Surrounding him. He couldn’t gasp hard enough.
“Are you —gay?”
“What?” He asked. Stunned.
“Are doom grey?”
“Mr.— B… no, wait. Jason, I can’t—“ someone laid a hand against his arm suddenly. “Nuh, wait. What are you—“
He spun around to find flashing red and blue. Like the colours of his spandex, bleeding into the scene before him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mesmerizing lights.
Then as quickly as he’d realized what he was observing was inaccurate, the quicker his heartbeat seemed to pace.
He turned back around to find the visor again. Maybe it’d know what he was supposed to do now.
“They know.” The birds know. Because they always knew. Birds know. And the visor probably knew. Spidey couldn’t be sure though because he thought technically visors were inanimate meaning they did not have the capacity to know.
“They know.” The walls agreed with him.
“They know.” The visor said as if through a distorted pipe.
That meant that Vulture had known all along.
Spidey collapsed to the floor in a daze. Spluttering nonsense between his lips as officers and paramedics swarmed him. The lonely BP employee stood off to the side, terrified of what New York’s Spider-Man had gotten into to be spouting stories of Vultures and birds so ferociously.
“Jason, Jason— M’sorry.” The BP employee, Jason, was startled to hear such a heartfelt apology from the vigilante while he was being whisked away on a gurney.
