By Moonlight (P.P + M.J)

13. I'm No Hero

When Peter came back, he could barely see Werewolf, but he did see a little group of people shuffling to the stairs. As the last person descended, the lycan materialized from within the smoke. His fur was no longer black, but a very pale gray. If he stood still, he would vanish into the smoke entirely, except for his eyes, which still shone a brilliant blue. Was that some kind of camouflage ability? And it was right then that Peter noticed that Werewolf's eyes were human, despite their off-putting glow.

"Here's the plan," Werewolf began, his voice hoarse and throaty from inhaling smoke, "you take the upper two floors. I'll take the third and ground floor."

"Wait, why?" Peter questioned. He didn't know why Werewolf was helping him. He had almost smashed his head in the other night!

"Because if I go any higher, I'll fall right through the floor!" was the lycan's exasperated reply, not answering the question Peter had meant.

"But why are you helping me?!" Peter clarified, but Werewolf didn't answer him as he escaped out the window. Peter could basically hear him trample around the upper floor.

Wasting no more time, the web-slinger used the stairs to go the top floors. People were already going to the stairs, being directed by some unseen force. Peter escorted them out and got to work getting the others. There weren't a lot of people on the upper floors, maybe only five or six. As he slung back to make one last check, the entire building trembled, the walls beginning to crack and tear apart. Half of the ceiling went down, and Peter tried to go for one of the windows, but they were being showered in embers as the roof collapsed on them. Using the stairs, he rushed down, the roof following him down the steps.

"Wolf!" Peter called, hoping the lycan would have enough sense to escape on his own. But as Peter fled down the stars, the building fell faster and faster. He suddenly had flashbacks to the last time he got crushed by a building. Sure, he had lifted it, but this one had the advantage of, you know, being on fire.

On the ground floor, he spied an open hole in the wall. Heart racing, he propelled himself toward it, stumbling over the fallen chunks of wall and brick. But everything was coming down, actually chasing him, as if trying to take him down too. Panicked, he shot a web from both hands and sling-shotted himself forward. But a ceiling part hit him just before the hole, knocking him down. Scrambling to his feet, he thought he would be crushed instantaneously. But there was a pause in the collapse. When he looked behind him, he saw Werewolf, standing tall with his muscular arms up, his paws splayed against the ceiling. He was trembling like crazy. He was literally holding up the building, but he was quickly loosing his grip as the heavy force pressed down on him.

"Go, kid!" Werewolf shouted to him, and Peter didn't need to be told twice. He leapt through the window but quickly turned around. He shot a web at Werewolf's back and pulled hard, yanking him through the hole and through some of the wall. They both hightailed it away as the building continued to come down, falling into a heap of rubble. Werewolf disappeared into the shadows and Peter climbed the nearest building. He swung a block away and finally stopped at a roof with a darkened garden. He caught his breath, shaking his head to rid his mind of the flaming images.

After a while, he heard a shuffling sound and sensed he wasn't alone. Whipping around, he held his arm up, ready to web up the newcomer. But it was just Werewolf, who was rummaging through a bush on the other side of the roof. Peter lowered his arm and slowly approached him. The lycan's fur was now jet black, and Peter deduced that his color must conform to his surroundings as to remain hidden. Werewolf looked up, blue eyes wide and glowing, when he saw the hero's approach. But when that he saw that it was just Peter, he returned to the bush and proceeded to pull out a very familiar-looking backpack. He rifled through it and took an iPod and white earbuds. He adjusted the band wrapped around his upper arm and slid the iPod inside the plastic pocket, putting the earbuds in his ears.

"Thanks, for helping back there," Peter started as Werewolf slung the backpack over his shoulders, "you didn't have to, you know, save me."

"You're right," Werewolf agreed affirmatively, "but thanks for saving me too."

"Why-why did you? Help me?" The web-slinger asked, quite intimidated by the lycan's imposing presence.

"While I may be a thief, Mr.Spider, I do have morals," Werewolf replied, his eyes knowing and thoughtful. He wasn't threatening for once, but Peter was still on edge as he continued, "you could never have done that entire building by yourself."

"Well, that's debatable," Peter said, slightly resenting the last remark, "but know that I do appreciate the help, Werewolf."

"Werewolf? Is that what you call me?" He asked with a quizzical smirk, "I'm a lycan, just so you know. Big difference."

"Whatever, just- thank you, for not trying to kill me this time around."

"I would never kill you," the lycan said, bowing his head subtly, "I'm no hero, kid, make no mistake about that, but that doesn't make me heartless."

He said that last sentence like he was trying to make a point. Sure, Werewolf helped out once, but Peter shouldn't expect him to do that all the time. He was right. He definitely wasn't a hero.

"So I shouldn't ask what's in the bag, huh Van Helsing?" Peter asked, crossing his arms and smirking at his own reference. He did kind of resemble the wolf from that movie. Werewolf tensed, then sighed aloud.

"There are some things that are better left unknown," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He hit play on his iPod and jumped on the ledge, but turned to Peter once more.

"I kind of like that name. Werewolf. It's a got a nice ring to it," he said before leaping away, jumping from roof to roof as he disappeared into the night. Whatever he had in the backpack, Peter decided not to chase him. He thought he earned a reprieve, and Peter swung away toward home. He hoped the smell of smoke wouldn't tip Aunt May off too much.

But who was he kidding?

There's no such thing as a long chapter anymore. They're always gonna be this length. Anyway, I love Perchelle, but I also wanted to have an actual story instead of just a love plotline. I wanted it to resemble the way that Homecoming was told, in terms of plot, you know. But yeah, here's 13! :)

~Fargone5