"Friendship is the only cement that will ever hold the world together. – Woodrow T. Wilson"
The rapid deterioration of the Manhattan Bridge caused frenzy that day, an event so catastrophic that it seemed to set its mark beside the disaster of the 9/11, and as another rupturing explosion set off on another pillar further down, it caused an row of cars and civilians as well as the concrete bridge beneath it to tumble and perish below. Fire blazed from all areas of the bridge, trapping people within their own vehicles or in a circle of abandoned ones, screaming and crying filtered through Emily's ears. Soot covering her face, blood seeping from a gash on her head, the smell of smoke invading her lungs and choking her, her eyes watering than from more than just the poisonous smoke. Cars slid down the titled bridge, crashing into others and people as they fell into the water below.
Helicopters surrounding the bridges as they attempted to douse out the multiple fires, sirens could be heard within the distance, it was the centre of the bridge which suffered the most, blowing off both sides which could lead to safety, large chunks missing and hundreds dead as they descended below with it. Trains, cars, pedestrians, cyclists.
All of them.
And for what? A statement a mad man had set out to emphasize throughout several months, performing disastrous terrorist acts just like these, but until now on a smaller scale.
She had been on the train, iPod blaring music that she was basing her work on for a recital later in the year, and now here she was, the carriage balancing on the edge of the blown bridge, the carriages before her not being so lucky, and the carriages behind her more than lucky. She blinked, attempting to overcome the dizziness and disorientated feeling within her head; she must have hit it pretty hard. Previously she had been sat in a seat, and now she lay on the floor, beside the pole centred from the doors of the carriage, feeling the slight tilt of the carriage. Even now, in her feared and frantic state she knew better than to make any sudden movements, for even the slightest disruption could have caused the carriage to tumble down and kill the few people still alive within it.
Just like that, almost as if someone cruel force had heard her, another explosion occurred, and this time it came from the concrete and tracks beneath one of the carriages behind her. The fire and screams of everyone within the vicinity of the explosion caused not only her ear drums to nearly shatter, but lurched the carriage forward, glass windows and the doors at opposite ends of the carriage to shatter themselves.
The dread that filled her as the carriage moved faster and off the broken rails than she could have ever anticipated, her hands flying out to grasp the only thing she could have a chance of delaying her imminent death. Her small hands gripped onto the pole, the carriage continuing to fall, only for Emily to feel a lurch and recoil as the chain link connecting the carriages stopped it. Momentarily. It hung there; glass and bits of debris falling down through the carriage, and Emily could feel the luck that she had been granted thus far would eventually fade away. The carriage wouldn't hang there on that single link forever, and neither could she, her fingers already beginning to slip from the grip it had, and when she would eventually fall it the impact of her body at the bottom of the carriage would trigger the rest of it to fall. Sweat formed from not only her fear and nervousness, but from the blaring heat of the fires, and she could feel the horror gripping onto every fibre of her being, settling deep within her stomach and chest, causing the hairs on her body to stand up, her dark blonde bangs falling into her eyes as endless tears streamed down her soot ridden cheeks.
"Take my hand! Take it!"
Her dark brown eyes looked up to a pair of silver ones, his red gloved hand only just reaching out to her, still a little too far, and the brief feeling of joy and relief she felt upon seeing Peter's masked form was quickly gone. If she let go, she'd practically have to try and jump in order to reach his hand, and as she took notice of the broken contraption on his wrist, which he had once claimed he designed in order to spin webbing, she knew that's how he would have caught her if he could. His own form was covered in soot, and even though she couldn't see his face, she knew it would have emitted the same fear and panic her own face showed.
"I can't," she yelled, her head shaking as her fingers slipped just that little bit more on the pole, "and there are other people on this carriage, Peter."
"Shut up, don't say that and don't look at me like that! Take it!"
The pitch in his voice rose a little bit more, the strain evident within it as the string of web his other hand held onto descended up higher and higher out of the carriage, most likely being the only one he could now use. She shook her head more reverently, the pain from the gash on her head increasing, the sweat from her hands making her grip on the pole just that much looser.
"Emily!"
Peter screamed, the panic and desperation increasing, and she knew why, she knew so well. Because really, if you thought about it, the situation now and the situation he had once been in with Gwen weren't all that different, and she cried harder. For him, for herself, for the unfairness of her situation. Her eyes stinging from the smoke and dripping down from her chin onto her satin blouse, if she let go, if she tried to take his hand, she'd miss. She knew she would. And she wasn't about to let him waste his time on her when there were thousands of people on this train who needed his help. She was important to Peter Park, yes, but the entire city was important to Spider-Man.
"I won't catch it, Peter, you know I won't."
She watched as his free hand ripped his mask off, as if the eye contact would have made an ounce of difference to his plea, and it did. His hair dishevelled, expression crumbling into pain, fear, determination and anxiety. He was crying too.
"Just for once, for once in your damn life, for the fucking joke of it all, let me save you!"
And it would have almost been funny, how saying that now caused Emily to revert back to her first memory of Peter, her first meeting with him. How she had in fact been saved by him, not willingly, but not by Spider-Man either. No, he had saved her as himself, the nerdy and photography loving Peter Parker who sometimes played around on his skateboard, the boy who had an Einstein poster up in his bedroom. He did.
She felt the lurch of the train as the link began to waver, almost envisioning the strain on it as it begun to give away, and she made a choice.
So yeah, I posted a one shot of this which was originally a song fic, and that has now become a fully fledged chapter, and here is a prologue of some sorts, I decided to make this a fully fledged story. I hope you enjoy this, and would seriously seriously love some reviews or feedback of some sorts! The actual story to this all will be a series of chapters of Emily and Peter's story leading up to this moment. Set after The Amazing Spider-Man 2!