A/N: So, this is what happens when you watch Spiderman one to many times and then go and listen to the Wicked soundtrack…. It's written in Blaine's POV and right now it stands on it's own but I might turn in into a verse, I'm not sure.

It's not easy being Spiderman- and I don't mean just fighting all the crime that litters New York City. I've gotten pretty good at that.

I mean it's not easy being Spiderman while trying to keep up with collage, my job, and take care of my Aunt May. It's a lot harder than it seems, and I have to do it all while keeping my second identity a secret to everyone, even to the people I love most. And as much as it hurts me to do so, it was and still is, for their own good. But no matter how hard I try to keep them from knowing the truth, to keep them from all that pain, they always seem to get hurt.

Just like tonight.

The man I have been in love with since freshman year, Kurt Hummel, had nailed a part as Fiyero on an off Broadway production of Wicked. Today was his opening night and he had went as far as to save front row tickets for me... and his boyfriend, Sebastian, who also happens to be my best friend. Well, the closest thing I have to one.

Of course the event wasn't as huge and miraculous as it would be if the play was actually on Broadway, but Kurt had quickly become another one of my closer friends when we moved out to New York together, so it was a big deal to me.

Nothing was going to keep me away from that theater tonight.

But oh had I been wrong.

Everything was going as I had planned; I had picked up the only suit I owned from the dry cleaners along with a bouquet of lilies - his favorite - from the small flower stand outside my apartment. I had even gone as far as to gel my crazy mane of curls down, which I hadn't attempted to do since high school. Kurt wasn't a big fan of the look, but he had said it made me look extremely dapper, and that was the look I was aiming for tonight.

I was ridding down the busy streets of New York when I heard it. A small, simple, scream of one word.

Help.

Crap.

This really couldn't have been happening. Why did it always seem that whenever I had something important going on in my life, the city decided now would be a perfect time for someone to need a little help for their friendly neighborhood Spiderman? Why couldn't people decided to unleash their inner criminal when I had nothing going on? To say the least it got a little frustrating at times, well, more like really really frustrating.

But of course, me being too good hearted guy that I am, (It's a curse really) I went and helped saved the day. Though I wouldn't really call tracking down a few guys that stole a ladies purse much of an accomplishment, but it still made me feel like I did something right. It had to be one of the best feelings in the world.

And so that's what caused me to be where I am right now; sitting on some dirty stump across the street from the back stage exist of the theater I was supposed to be in two hours ago. The play was most likely finishing its final number right inside at this very moment.

These are the times when I really regret having the responsibility of being

Spiderman ridding on my back. I loved it, don't get me wrong, I really did. I

loved how I can quickly turn that dreadful look of horror on someone's face into the brightest most hope filled smile I have ever seen, nothing could beat that. It's just that my life would be so much easier if I never got bit by that stupid spider back in my first year of college.

Yeah, the city wouldn't be as safe as it is now, but there are cops and firemen and paramedics that are hired to take care of those kinds of things. They were doing just fine before I came along to lend them a helping hand. It's not like there were any people made out of sand before I came along, there were just everyday normal crimes.

And this simple suit of red and blue latex, its cost me so much. My Uncle

Ben's death, the death of Sebastian's father, then losing Kurt to Sebastian, and who knows what else it could cause. All of that and more just because of this simple piece of material hidden under my clothes.

I was brought back to reality at the sound of opinions and commentary coming

from across the street. I looked up to see that indeed, the play had ended.

I rushed to get up and make it across the street as I saw that think, dark brown hair that I have become so very jealous of.

"Sebastian!"

When he turned around there was a smile on his lips, but looking into his

annoyingly dashing eyes, I could tell he was mad, furious even.

Of course he would be, Kurt had most likely realized I wasn't there, so I

probably just disappointed his boyfriend, again. Sebastian had every right to be mad at me.

"Blaine."

The tone of his voice was stern; there was no real emotion in it, and that

certainly wasn't normal for Sebastian. I felt as if I could cut glass with it. It scared me a little.

"Where's Kurt? I need to talk to him."

"Why should I tell? He probably doesn't even want to see you right now." he

said- no, spat at me. That fake smile melting into a scowl.

Sebastian was right, why on earth would Kurt want to talk to me, let alone see me after I ruined one of the best nights of his life? I wouldn't want to see myself right now either. Heck, I wouldn't want to see my face ever again.

"Listen, I know I fucked up big time, but I need to apologize to him! I won't be able to sleep tonight knowing he is pissed at me and I didn't even get to say sorry."

Sebastian took a moment to think, maybe somewhere in his cold, meerkat heart he understood where I was coming from. I could only hope.

"Good, I hope you do. That's the least amount of punishment you should get for what you did to him tonight."

Guess I spoke to soon.

"Please?" I begged, even going as far as to unleash the puppy dog eyes no one could resist.

And then we just stood there. I don't know how long we were just standing there, staring at each other, one pair of eyes pleading as the other tried so hard not to show any sign of emotion. It could have been minutes or hours, I honestly couldn't tell the difference.

"Down the hallway once you go through the stage door, third door on the left."

Then I just ran, the feeling of the hard concrete through my shoes edging me own to run even faster. When the wet concrete turned into smooth wood as I entered the door, I slowed down, preparing myself for what was waiting for me down the hallway.

I didn't have much time as I found myself standing in front of a door- When did that happen?- clearly marked 'Hummel' and before landing three quick knocks on the wood.

"Who is it?" I heard Kurt's voice ring through the door, the sound of it made

shivers run down my spine.

"Blaine."

There was silence, though I could hear the sound of a chair creek before I heard the quick elegant steps I've become to found of approaching.

When he opened the door I wasn't greeted with the normal; warm smile so big you could see his teeth and a hug, I was greeted with nothing. His face, his eyes, his posture, showed nothing.

I could quickly see it turning into anger, sadness, even disappoint the longer we stood there, just staring each other up and down, but never making eye contact.

"What do you want?" Kurt asked, his voice cracking along with a small piece of my heart. I hated when Kurt was upset, especially when it was my fault.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry. Kurt you need to-"

"No Blaine, I don't need to hear you out or try to understand you. I've done that enough. You disappointed me again. I don't get what in your life is so important that caused you to miss one simple eight o'clock showing."

He was crying now, the tears falling from his sea blue eyes onto his cheeks.

They sparkled, even in the low lighting on the hallway.

"Kurt, nothing is more important to me than you. Something... urgent just came up that caused me to get here a little late and then that guy in the lobby wouldn't let me in. He was real pain in the ass."

Kurt just let laugh, but not when that you do when you hear a funny joke, one that just comes out when you can't believe something. The worst type of laugh. "Just go Blaine. Please."

It wasn't even a question; it was a flat out demand that caused my heart to

break even more, I could feel the cracks running through the fast beating muscle. Hearing those words come out of his mouth, I never wanted them to be pointed towards me.

I never wanted to be the one that painted that heartbroken look on his face.

"Kurt, I-"

That's when I saw the flowers, and the note.

To Kurt,

Good luck tonight, I love you.

Sebastian xoxo

"He loves you." I stated. It meant to come out as question, but I already knew the answer.

"Apparently." Kurt answered, his voice soft a low, almost a whisper.

"Do you love him?"

I was so afraid of the answer. I really didn't want to hear it, why couldn't I just go back in time and slap myself before I let those terrible words escape?

He made eye contact with me for the first time that night, "I don't know." At least it's not a yes. "I was positive I loved someone else, but I think they might have just made me lose all their trust. So yeah, maybe I do love him back."

That was it. That was the last straw that made my heart shatter and break

into a million little pieces, piercing my entire body with the pain that clearly stated I had just lost the love of my life.

I couldn't stand there anymore. I just had to leave. I don't remember walking away from Kurt's door, but I found myself walking through the crowded street of New York trying to find a taxi, anything.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. The drive from the theater back to my

apartment I couldn't even remember. Somehow I had wound up in my bed, empty six pack of Coors Light beside me as silent sobs escaped from within me.

And the last thing I heard that night was a call for all cars to report to 9th and 56th, there had just been a shooting and the man had fled the scene. Normally I would rush out of bed to get there, but tonight I really didn't care. I just turned off the radio and crawled in on myself.

Spiderman was off duty tonight.