Post by Deleted on Feb 2, 2018 0:07:54 GMT
By S2D2
#1: A New Dawn
13 Years Ago…
A silent orchestra of running water and clanging dishes fills the kitchen. A man whose name is Ben Parker stands over the sink, contently scrubbing white porcelain plates with a yellow sponge. It’s almost nighttime, around 6:30 PM. A baseball game is sounding from the television in the other room, which Ben pauses frequently to listen to. Finishing up, he puts the last plate on the rack beside the sink. He reminds himself for the thousandth time that he needs to buy and install a dishwasher.
When he begins drying his hands, his wife May walks in, back from doing chores of her own. If anyone else had been in the kitchen with them, he or she would notice how opposite Ben and May are. While Ben’s hair is already starting to gray, May’s retains its shimmering brown color. Whereas Ben is a little porky, May is lean and thin. Ben is still wearing the shirt and tie he dons at his job, while May’s outfit is more relaxed.
They look at one another. May smiles at him. Ben blushes and looks the other way. The two are no less in love tonight than when they were first married eight years prior. She gives him an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder as she picks up a cloth and wets it.
“You almost done?” she asks as she begins wiping down the dining room table. She keeps her head low as she laser-focuses on any and every sign of dirt.
“Yep, just finished,” Ben replies as he dries his hands with a clean, snowflake-patterned towel. “I was thinking the three of us could watch a nice movie tonight.”
“It might just be us two,” May says. “Peter hasn’t come out of his room since he got home from school.”
“Ah…” A glum feeling takes over his chest. “He’s just getting used to things. He’s only been here a couple weeks. Give it time.”
“Have you heard from Ray?” May asks. She is at this point twenty perfect done with wiping the table.
“No, I haven’t. I keep trying to call him, but it says his line’s been disconnected. I keep trying Mary, too, but it always goes to her messages.”
“What are they up to…?” mutters May, but loud enough for Ben to hear.
“I dunno,” he says. “I’m…worried. I mean, they left Pete here without barely giving us a reason. And now… Poof. It’s like they stopped existing.” Ben looks outside the kitchen, towards the stairs to the second floor. The feeling of worry becomes the feeling of determination. “I’m gonna go talk to him.”
Without another word, Ben trudges up the stairs. He approaches Peter’s door and leans his ear close. He hears…sobbing.
Ben knocks twice on the door. “Pete? Is everything okay?” he asks gently. “You never came down to eat.”
He faintly receives: “I’m not hungry.”
“Is it okay if I come in?”
“. . . Sure.”
Ben opens the door and peers inside. The eight-year-old Peter is lying on his twin bed. He’s curled up in a ball, crying into his knees. Ben steps in, tenderly shutting the door behind him. He takes a moment to fully see Peter’s room for the first time. The space is faintly lit by the orange light emanating from the lamp beside Peter’s constellation-adorned bed. The walls are completely covered with posters of every size—posters of alien-looking plants, the Milky Way, polar bears, and close-up creepy crawlies. An old telescope rests by the window. Ben can’t help a smile from the corner of his lips as he realizes just how similar the boy is to his father.
“You miss Mom and Dad, don’t you?” Ben asks his nephew, sitting at the end of the bed.
Peter’s voice is muffled. “Yeah. How—” He sniffs. “How long till they come back?”
“It’ll…be soon,” Ben answers.
“They just left me here,” Peter says, his sobs growing stronger. “They— They left me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye, Uncle Ben. I… I hate them.”
“Hey, don’t say that.” Ben’s voice is a perfect blend of stern yet caring. “C’mon. Sit up. I can maybe give you an idea of why this is all happening.”
Peter hesitates, then does as he’s told, sitting next to his uncle. Ben puts his arm around him like an old friend.
“Sometimes I’m jealous of your dad,” Ben says. “The big hotshot scientist.”
Peter finally smiles. “He wants to cure cancer,” he states proudly.
“Right. I’ll bet the reason he left so suddenly has something to do with that. I mean, that’s why you and your mom stayed with us last September, remember?”
“Y-yeah?”
“This is just another science thing.” Ben isn’t sure if he’s lying to himself or to Peter. Probably both. But Peter is too young to understand how much weight “I don’t know” has. “They’ll be back soon. Trust me.”
“I— I still miss them, though…” Peter says, closing his eyes and hanging his head. “I can’t stop missing them. It’s too hard, Uncle Ben.”
“Well…life is hard, bud. But we’re Parkers. When life punches you, you punch right back. You could wake up in a dumpster, but you’ll never give up. The world needs people like you, Peter. Always remember that.”
The eight-year-old smiles and nods. “Okay.”
“Great.” Ben stands up. “You wanna come down for dinner now?”
“I’m still not very hungry. I think I’ll go to bed now,” Peter says as he wiped away the last of his tears. He crawls under the sheets of his bed while Ben makes his way to the door. “G’night, Uncle Ben.”
Ben smiles at Peter. “Good night, kiddo. Stay strong.”
As Ben leaves and shuts the door, Peter turns off his lamp, enveloping the room in darkness.
:origin()/pre09/cdd3/th/pre/f/2014/189/c/8/spiderman__back_emblem__by_jamesng8-d7pq7x1.png)
Present Day.
Theo hates his job at the corner deli. But, money is money, so he doesn’t have much room to complain. The portly mid-twenties man is walking out the store’s back, into the alley. It has to be grimiest alley in New York City. Some of Theo’s co-workers joke about legends of people turning into slime monsters if they stayed there too long. Theo initially brushed off such ridiculous claims, but he decides to move quickly just in case. He opens the dumpster and is horrified by what he sees.
A man dressed in a webbed, red- and blue-colored costume lies among the bags of trash, unconscious.
Theo jumps back, dropping the lid as he does. The ear-piercing BANG! wakens the man inside. All he can see is darkness. He doesn’t know where he is—all he knows is that he’s definitely inside something. Something smelly. He feels around, noticing the balloon-like trash bags around him. Lifting the heavy, rubbery lid with one hand, the costumed man climbs out, returning to the land of light. He crashes onto the cement like hamburger coming out of a meat grinder.
“Oh my god!” Theo exclaims, his chubby hands wrapped around his head. “You’re…Spider-Man!”
“Blegh…” Spider-Man grunts as he at least gets on his hands and knees. “Ohhh God…” he slurs, rubbing his head. “I feel like a toilet at a truck stop. Ugh.”
The great Peter Parker, destined for greatness. Now a super hero named Spider-Man. He immediately notices that he can see out of one eye better than the other. He thinks it’s a concussion, but as his hands rub his face, he notices something: his left eyepiece is completely gone. Finally getting the strength to stand up, Spider-Man looks himself over. His suit is in complete tatters. Clumps of his hair stick out of his mask. His cheek is fully exposed on the right side. The rest of the suit is no better. As if he was attacked by tigers, his suit is cut open in a hundred places. Not only that, but he’s bleeding a small amount near his ribs.
“Geez…” Theo says. “You look…trashed, man. Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m just perfect,” Spider-Man retorts, understandably irritated.
“What the hell were you doing, man?”
A cackly voice responds, “He was fighting me.”
The two look up to see another costumed man, this time sporting green and purple. He’s riding what seems to be a small plane—his prized glider.
“Oh shit,” Theo says. “Green Goblin… Screw this, then.” Dropping his trash, he retreats into the back of the deli.
“Dumpster diving, Parker?” Goblin jeers.
“I was trying to see if I could find your mama down there,” Spider-Man says, finally feeling rejuvenated.
A scowl overtakes Goblin’s twisted face. “Let’s finish this!” he snarls.
“Yeah. Let’s.”
So much for this supposed “stalemate,” Spidey thinks. Out of his wrists, he fires two webs upward and yanks himself off the ground. Green Goblin wastes no time and fires an endless barrage of bullets out of his glider, ready to turn the Webbed Wonder into a bloody pulp. Spider-Man grabs onto a pipe and uses the swing to launch himself at the Goblin, slamming his feet into the villain’s chest. As his feet make contact, he straightens his legs, pushing himself back into the air. He fires two webs at the glider—one on each wing—and pulls himself back downward, delivering yet another fierce kick. As he lands directly in front of Green Goblin on the nose of his glider, the two engage in a vicious fistfight. They nearly resemble two bloodthirsty boxers. It’s no secret that they’re mortal enemies, locked in constant battle for years. Both of them had their lives ruined by the other.
Spider-Man is going all-out. He follows each punch instantly with another. And yet, the Goblin only stands there, taking each hit like a sandbag. He finally puts his arms up, deflecting Spidey’s crosses. He jets his first forward, jabbing Spider-Man in the middle of his chest. “Ha!” he laughs. He follows up with an uppercut, knocking Spider-Man off the glider.
“Let’s take this someplace more interesting!” cheeses Green Goblin. With a POOM! from the jets of his glider, he turns around and flies out the alley. Spider-Man leaps into the air and shoots a web onto the glider’s bottom. Regret immediately fills him as he hangs on for dear life. “Hamanahamanahamana,” he chants wildly.
Green Goblin looks back and grins with jubilance. He quickly jukes to the left by only a few feet, changing Spider-Man’s force of motion and slamming him into the side of a brick wall. The Goblin jukes again, and Spider-Man slams against another building. But he never lets go, even if he looks like a frail old woman being dragged by the leash of a Great Dane. Goblin doesn’t give up either and causes Spider-Man to crash into a window. As his body collides with the hard-paned glass, the web finally slips from his hand, sending him into building. The webbed hero sails for a few yards before he smashes into something sturdy. It takes him only a few moments to recover from his daze. He sees that he’s crashed into an apartment, in a kitchen. A family of four is eating lunch at the dinner table, looking at Spider-Man with bewilderment, shock, and confusion.
“Uh… Hi,” Spidey says as he gets up. He looks behind to see that he slammed into the refrigerator, giving it a massive dent. “Um… Sorry. Just another Tuesday, right?”
The family doesn’t answer and remains frozen. The father is in the middle of taking a bite out of his sandwich.
“Well…bye. Again, really sorry.” He leaps out the broken window and— Spider-sense! Everything slows down as a pumpkin-shaped bomb sails lazily past his nose and into the window. Spider-Man knows that the moment the bomb touches something solid, the family will be incinerated. He fires a web at it, nimbly catching it. He immediately pulls back, and the pumpkin bomb flies back out the window. Everything returns to normal speed as the bomb explodes harmlessly in the open space. But, Green Goblin soars through the smoke and flames like a demon and grabs Spider-Man by the throat. The webslinger hangs on to the brick wall with just his adhesive fingertips. Goblin only pulls harder, making Spider-Man choke, but he doesn’t let that stop him. Goblin pulls harder and harder, and Spider-Man’s face turns blue under his shredded mask. Green Goblin desperately starts pounding his enemy in the head. Spider-Man honestly feels like a balloon that’s about to pop. He grabs Goblin’s fist with his free hand and squeezes. They both let out struggling yells.
Since neither of them let up, the wall does. The two take off as a person-sized chunk tears from the building, still stuck to Spider-Man’s fingers. With all his might, he slams the chunk into Goblin’s back, breaking it into pieces. He finally lets go of the wall-crawler’s neck as he screeches in pain. Spider-Man only has seconds to breathe while he falls. As he does, he webs up the bigger chunks of brick and brings them toward him, carrying them in a nifty web-net. He recovers onto a wall, steadying himself. Jumping so high into the air that his legs nearly burst, he swings the net around like a helicopter two times—building up momentum—then hurls it at the still-dazed Green Goblin. The villain has barely any time to react as it zooms against his body, knocking him off his glider.
“Yes!” Spider-Man half-gasps half-yells as he clings to a wall.
The glider gets a life of its own and dives after its green owner. It catches up to him in no time, and he lands on it like a pro skateboarder. He quickly brandishes a metallic tube. He pushes the button, and out from the tube comes a sharp, green-colored laser-sword.
“Oh, come on!” Spider-Man exclaims. “That just isn’t fair, dude.”
With a barbaric shriek, Green Goblins charges back at Spider-Man, his laser-sword held high. He swings at the wall-crawler with impressive speed, but Spider-Man jumps over him, landing behind him on the glider. Goblin tries again with a backhand swing, but Spidey hops to the glider’s nose. Goblin swings the sword over his head like a lumberjack chopping wood. Spider-Man grabs the villain’s wrists, stopping the swing just before the beam touched his mask. Goblin tries to push down with all his might, unleashing a roar of rage. Spider-Man’s able to look into the Goblin’s wide, gold-colored eyes—they’re filled with nothing but pure hate. They stare down the webhead, trying to picture the blade cutting him in half. This is not the Green Goblin that Spider-Man knows. The eyes are usually filled with demented glee—but this day, only fury.
“O-Osborn…” Spider-Man grunts.
Green Goblin’s only response: “Rrraaagh!”
The webhead spins, twisting Goblin’s arms and making him drop the weapon. Even angrier, the villain headbutts Spidey’s forehead, stunning him slightly…but it’s all Goblin needs. He fights through the pain in his hands and wraps them both around Spider-Man’s throat like a vice. He points the glider ninety degrees skyward, and they blast off like a rocket. Spider-Man feels like he’s on a rollercoaster shooting upward at a thousand miles per hour. He can’t tell why he’s having trouble breathing—either it’s Green Goblin’s firm grasp around his airpipe, or it’s the extreme kinetic energy his body’s experiencing. Most likely both. As they fly higher and higher, the webslinger bangs his fists against Green Goblin’s wrists, trying to get him to let go. He puts his full strength—or, at least, what remains of it—into his punches. Goblin only ignores it.
Higher and higher. And higher. Spidey’s vision literally clouds as the duo passes through the puffy white masses of air. The glider roars like a motorcycle as its jets spew exhaust like volcanoes.
“Os— *Gack!* Os..born,” Spider-Man chokes. He’s done resisting. The wind is beating against his face so hard, his skin feels like it’s going to tear off. Suddenly, the clouds disappear, and all he can see is the dark blue sky above. It’s…cold. Cold enough for him to see his breath. His air-deprived lungs feel like they’re about to freeze over. He instantaneously knows he doesn’t want to look down, naturally.
Green Goblin holds the exhausted webhead out in front of him. Nothing is below his feet. Best-case scenario, they’re only a few hundred feet above the city. Worst-case scenario, they’re somewhere between twenty and twenty-five thousand feet up. Knowing Goblin and the high speeds his glider can achieve…it’s most likely the worst-case scenario.
“This looks like the end for you, Parker,” Green Goblin said in an eerily quiet voice. “You’ve been a great…friend. Heh…”
Ice-cold terror fills Spider-Man’s gut. “Wait… WAIT!”
Goblin opens his hand, letting the webslinger go. He falls only three seconds before he fires a web up at the glider’s nose. Spider-Man hangs there. He internally tells himself not to look down, but he can’t help it and does so. New York looks like a tiny conglomerate of colors rather than a city. Definitely worst-case scenario.
He looks up at the Goblin. Against the beating sun, the villain is a silhouette. A rush of wind breezes by, causing Spider-Man to swing slightly and making him yell in complete terror. In his head, he’s repeating a particular four-lettered word over and over.
Goblin takes a dagger out of his suit. He twirls it in his hand tauntingly. “I do hope you say hi to the Stacys for me.”
The two stare at one another for a moment. Then, Goblin bends down and slices the dagger through the web.
Spider-Man starts falling.
With his body rotating in the headfirst position all he can see is the high-speed death below him. He tries to reposition himself, but the pure inertia sends him into a spiral. Now he can’t see anything. He only plummets, his body spinning and flipping madly.
“Gyaaaaahhh!” he shrills.
He can no longer feel his heart beat in his chest—in fact, he can barely feel anything. And yet, ever the scientist, he frantically searches his mind for an idea.
“Think think think think think!” he shrieks. He tries to stay calm and level-headed, but it’s impossible. He realizes that the longer he falls, the faster he goes. Panic tries to take hold… Images of Gwen and Uncle Ben flash across his eyes… But Spider-Man rejects them. He can’t let hope leave, even if he’s skydiving to his death.
Wait.
Skydiving…
That’s it! He’s skydiving! Skydivers need parachutes!
Spider-Man carefully turns his body so that his back is facing the rapidly-approaching ground and his front is facing the sky. He knows how to make a net with his web-fluid, so he can’t imagine a parachute would be much different. The net would just need more threads in it so that it could catch the air. He’s going so fast at this point, he’s afraid the G-force will tear his skin from his body. His insides already feel like juice. As much as he hates to, he must disregard it. The webhead points his wrists at one another and fires a webline from both, hoping for the webs to cross and start making the net-parachute. Instead, the webs fly straight up, not even close to touching.
“Knew it…” he musters. So, great—a parachute’s not going to work. But he isn’t out of ideas yet. Maybe he had to think like something other than a skydiver? Maybe…
He looks back and audibly shouts a curse word that would get him slapped by Aunt May if she ever heard it. The city is now drastically close. All the taller buildings are perfectly visible. He only has a few seconds—one minute at most. Thinking fast, he puts his wrist against his ribs and starts spraying web from there up to his elbow, as if he’s rubbing in deodorant. He switches to the other side and does the same thing. He webs up the area between his thighs as well. Making his body as straight as pencil, he turns back around to face the nearing city.
“I can do this I can do this I can do this I can do this,” he chants. “I can…do this! Hyup!”
Spider-Man spreads his arms and legs out wide. Just in time too, as he’s about the height of the Empire State Building. His body immediately slows as the webbing near his arms and legs catches the air. In just three seconds he goes from falling…to flying.
“Yeahhh! Woooo!” he shouts as he glides through Manhattan. “I am a freakin’ genius! Take that, physics! Ha!”
The putty in his stomach turns into butterflies of joy. A wide, toothy smile spreads across his face. It all goes away when he hears the Green Goblin’s maniacal laughter.
“Oh, for the love of—”
Goblin flies out from in between two buildings and drives his fist through Spider-Man’s gut, turning the butterflies back into putty. The Webbed Wonder flies straight up, arms and legs flailing. Goblin speeds up to him and punches him in the back, launching him downward. He dives after Spider-Man and grabs him by the ankle. With a hoarse cry of fury, Goblin spins them around…
…and hurls Spider-Man through a glass building.
The webslinger flies through the other side like an exit wound, intense pain burning throughout his entire being. His flight takes him across the street, where he somehow manages to stick to a wall. He remains there completely still, breathing profusely. God, it hurts so much…
Goblin hovers a few yards away, flabbergasted. “Why won’t you just die?!” he shouts.
“Honestly,” gasps Spider-Man, “I think I’m immortal.”
“We’ll see about that,” Goblin growls as he takes out a pumpkin-shaped bomb.
An idea flashes across Spidey’s mind. “Just…give me a sec, okay? Never been thrown through a building before… Toady’s been full of firsts, really. First time I skipped class. First time I nearly plummeted to my death. First time I unleashed a yo’ mama joke. ’Sbeen a crazy day.”
While Spidey rants, Green Goblin pushes the button on the bomb. It started blinking with a green light, signaling that it was armed. Without a word, he threw it.
Perfect, Spider-Man thinks! He launches himself off the wall and webs the bomb up, catching it in his hand. Using his speed, he puts his feet out in front of him and dropkicks Goblin in the chest, pushing him off his glider.
Spider-Man lands on the glider, yelling, “Look out! Hot potato!” He places the bomb on the glider and webs it in place.
“No…” Green Goblin says, flopping on the street. “What are you doing?!”
Spider-Man backflips off the glider, landing on a car a few yards in front of the villain.
Goblin fruitlessly reaches for the glider. “No… Nooo!”
FWOOM! The bomb explodes, and the glider alongside it. Small chunks and pieces of the aircraft emerge from the ball of flame and land onto the street below.
Green Goblin stands up and tears off his mask, revealing the face of the billionaire businessman, Norman Osborn.
“Uh-oh, he’s taking off his mask!” Spider-Man taunts. “We getting a room later, Ozzie?”
“Shut up!” Norman exclaims. His red hair is wildly untidy, adding to the crazy look. “I don’t need my glider to take you down.”
“Ehhh…” Spider-Man shrugs. “It seemed like you kinda did…”
Growling, Norman takes out the dagger from one of his pockets and raises it high, ready to chuck at the wall-crawler. Suddenly, he drops the dagger, and his body spasms violently. He lets out one final scream before his body becomes still, and he falls facefirst on the pavement, unconscious. Behind him was Jean De Wolfe, standing outside her car—taser gun in hand.
“Hey, Captain,” Spider-Man greets. “Thank God you’re here. He really had me on the ropes.”
“Why do you joke around so much?” she asks grouchily as she approaches the motionless Norman.
“Mostly so my pants don’t go from blue to green.”
Captain De Wolfe rolls the unconscious figure onto his back, finally getting a good look at him and his maskless face. She half-gasps half-chuckles. “Son of a bitch…” she muses. “The Green Goblin is Norman Osborn…” She looks up at Spidey. “Sorry we never believed you.”
“Hey, there’s no need to apologize,” he says sincerely. “You were right—I didn’t really have any evidence, so I know I sounded crazy.”
The captain looks around, then notices the large hole on the fourth floor of the glass building overhead. “Um… Mind telling me what happened there?”
“That? Oh, y’know, Osborn just chucked me through it. Felt amazing.”
She smiles genuinely as she looks back at him. “You okay? You look terrible.” She gestures to how much of his suit is missing. “I feel like I should arrest you for public nudity.”
“I’ll be fine, thanks,” Spider-Man says. “My pride took the biggest hit. And possibly my sanity.”
De Wolfe looks down Green Goblin again. “We finally got you…” she says quietly. She looks at the webhead one final time. “Thank you. If you ever need anything, just let me know.”
“Likewise,” Spider-Man responds.
“Good.” Police sirens sound in the distance. “You better skedaddle; I can’t be seen talking to you.”
“Alrighty. Stay frosty.” Spider-Man leaps in the air and web-swings away.
Later…
Empire State University - Greenwich Village, Manhattan.
In regular, everyday attire, an exhausted Peter slogs through the hallways of the dormitory. He’s wearing a dark red, hooded athletic jacket and a neat pair of faded jeans. He finally gets to his suite—located at the end of the hall—and unlocks the door, opening it. He shuts the door behind him and practically floats to his bed, crashing on top of it.
He issues a low moan. “Whatever happened to purse snatchers?” he says.
Peter gets only a few seconds of peace and quiet before the door swings open. In comes Ned Leeds, Peter’s roommate. “Thuh…there you are!” he wheezes. Sweat is dripping from his short, black hair down his dark skin. His pudgy form barely looks like it can support itself, so he leans against the wall to rest. “Th…there you are,” he says again.
“Dude, did you run here?” Peter asks, still laying flat on his stomach on his bed.
“Y-yeah,” Ned answers, finally seeming to catch his breath. “From the Fine Arts building.”
“What? That’s on the other side of campus, dude. You didn’t take the campus bus?”
Ned looks at Peter quizzically. “The campus has a bus?”
“Yes!”
“. . . Oh.”
Peter and Ned both pause for a laugh.
“So,” Peter says, “what’s up?”
“What’s up? What’s up?! You were on the news, Pete! You beat Green Goblin!”
“Not so loud, dude,” Peter whispers. “We have thin walls here.”
“Oh. Sorry,” Ned says in a much more hushed voice. He moves to his own bed and sits on top of it. “But…you beat Green Goblin!” He leans forward. “How’d it feel getting thrown through that building?”
Peter feigns an insulted expression. “It freakin’ sucked, Ned! How do you think it felt?”
The two laugh again.
Ned asks, “Wanna see a movie to celebrate?”
“Agh, I’d love to, but I can’t,” Peter says. “I’m eating dinner with Aunt May tonight.”
“Oh… Tomorrow night?”
Peter smiles. “Definitely. Tomorrow night.” He checks the time on his phone. “Speaking of which, I’m gonna have to head out now if I’m gonna make it to Queens in time.” He exhaustedly rises up and makes his way to the door.
“Why so early?” Ned asks. “Can’t you just swing there?”
“Gah, I wish. But the suit’s trashed. Gonna have to take the train.”
“All right. See ya.”
“See ya later, bro.” Peter opens the door and walks out. If he’d looked back, he would’ve seen the saddened expression on Ned’s face.
That Night.
The Parker Home - Forest Hills, Queens.
Peter misses this place. Compared to the way everything is now, things were so…simple here. To him, Queens will always be home, even though pretty much all of the wall-crawler’s adventures take place in Manhattan. He feels like he hasn’t seen his aunt May in months, when in reality it’s been only a few weeks. As he steps up to the front door and knocks, it opens almost instantaneously. He’s greeted by Aunt May’s warm, smiling face. He swears that she’s barely aged since he started staying here over a decade ago.
“Hi, Pete,” she beams. “Come on in.”
As soon as Peter steps into the quaint home, a pleasant scent reaches his nose. “Something smells great, Aunt May.”
“I’m cooking stew,” she says, shutting the door. “Do you mind setting the table, sweetie?”
“Sure thing.” He moves to the closet and hangs his jacket in there, then makes his way to the kitchen. He opens the cupboard for the bowls and grabs two of them, putting them on the table.
“Three bowls, honey,” Aunt May says, not even looking at him or the table. She’s hovering over the stew, putting in the finishing touches with spice.
“Three?” Peter asks. “Someone else coming?”
“Oh, you’ll see,” she says playfully. “They’re in the bathroom. They should be out soon.”
Peter lays a third bowl on the table, chuckling. “I hate surprises, May, so if this is some kind of—”
A pair of long-nailed hands grabs his shoulders as a female’s voice whispers in his ear, “Boo!”
Peter nearly falls onto the table from fright. He wobbles as he turns around, wanting to see who scared him. Those same hands wrap around his face and pull him into a loving kiss. As he’s let go, Peter actually does fall to the ground, nearly taking the table down with him as he grabs onto it.
“Oh man, Pete—are you okay?” the voice asks.
“I—I’m fine,” Peter weakly replies, looking up at Mary Jane Watson. He takes her hand as she helps him up.
“I’m sorry for doing that,” she says sincerely as she puts her arms over his shoulders. “It’s good to see you. It’s been…ages.”
“I’m glad to see you too,” he says. “I really missed you.”
The two stare into one another’s eyes for a moment. A fire is clearly burning between them.
May speaks up. “I’m not going to have to leave for a few minutes, am I?”
Peter and Mary Jane take a step back from each other. “No, ma’am,” they say at the same time. Peter looks down sheepishly, his cheeks burning red.
“Good,” she says, “because I’m starving. Let’s eat.”
Peter finishes setting the table while Aunt May pours three glasses of wine. The trio take their seats, with Peter and Mary Jane taking opposite ends at the table, with May in the middle.
As they eat, May is the first to start up a conversation. “So, M.J., the modeling’s going well?”
“Oh my god, I love it,” M.J. replies. “A couple weeks ago I did a shoot in Rome, and…it was the most amazing experience.”
“That’s great to hear!” May says. “In his dorm, Peter has a whole stack of magazines you’re covered on.”
Peter kept his eyes on his food as his face went pale.
M.J. leans toward May and whispers, “I know.”
They converse for the next hour. As they talk and laugh, Peter looks at both May & M.J. and realizes…they are probably the two most important people in his life. At that moment, they feel like a family. But what broke is heart was that only one of them knew he was Spider-Man…
At one point, Mary Jane says, “We need to…um, hang out, Pete. I’m free tomorrow night.”
Aunt May eyes them both suspiciously, but can’t help but smile.
Peter nods and says, “Tomorrow night works great.”
Later, Peter is standing over the sink. The water runs as he cleans the plates with a green sponge. The news are on in the other room, playing on the TV. They mostly talk about the Green Goblin being unmasked as Norman Osborn, who’s in the process of going to prison. Thank God, Peter thinks.
Mary Jane is wiping down the table. She exchanges glances with Peter and smiles at him, making him blush and look away. She giggles and says, “You’re such a dork, Peter.”
He grins in content. “I know, I know,” he says as he puts the last place on the rack beside the sink.
In the other room, the TV sounds, “Taking his place as C.E.O. will be his son, Harry Osborn.”
Peter and M.J. look at one another again. They stop what they’re doing and hurry to the living room. On the screen is Harry, swarmed by a sea of flashing cameras and microphones. “My father is a deranged man,” Harry says. “He took his position at the company and used it to help his ‘Green Goblin’ self. As C.E.O., I will take this company to new heights. OsCorp will return to what it was before—a people’s company.”
“Harry…” M.J. murmurs, worry in her eyes.
“Oh boy,” sighs Peter.
