Disclaimer: I don't own Spiderman.
This is dedicated to my brother, who is so obsessed with Spiderman that he knows how web shooters are made.
Red. Red blood, red hair, red clothing. It haunts me, follows me. No matter where I turn it surrounds me.
My costume: Blue and red, but mostly red. I made it that way long before I realized how much the color would affect my life. I made it even before Uncle Ben died. It seems like so long ago; decades or millennia. But in reality it was just four years ago. I made it red because the color jumped out at me. It was the purest red the store had- like a stop sign or a fire engine. It would capture the bad guys' attention and differentiate me from the villains, who I assumed would all wear grey. I've changed my costume many times but in the end I've always come back to this one. Why, you ask? It's simple, really. Red hides blood.
How can the same thing be both your savior and your enemy? I'm talking about hair. Red hair. In my life three of the key players have been red heads. Norman Osborn: The Green Goblin. Hair like a fire storm. Sanity like an earthquake: Unpredictable and shaky at best. He's tried to kill me and in a way he already has. He's taken my life and turned it into a psychotic game of cat and mouse. We've both lost and we've both won, but we both know that in the end there can only be one winner.
Harry Osborn: My best friend and the son of my worst enemy. I would say how can something so good come from something so bad but I wouldn't describe Harry as "good." Confused, more like it. But how can you blame him? He lost his mother, and his father is constantly telling him he's the biggest mistake he ever made. From the side Harry looks a little like Norman but when he smiles and his eyes light up you know they're not the same, not really. But just like his father, just like my worst enemy, Harry has that hair. That red hair that reminds me of a volcano. It's just a matter of time before it explodes.
Mary Jane Watson. MJ. One of the greatest things to ever happen to me. She's like a bright star in an endless dark night, or a grain of sugar in a bucket of salt. I know we have our problems, and I'm mostly to blame. I hate how I have to take out all of my frustration on her. If I only had someone else to confide in I'm sure we would both be a lot happier. But I don't have anyone else. She's the one. She's the only one. And yet again, red strikes. But unlike Norman or Harry, MJ's hair reminds me of a rose: Beautiful and delicate, but with thorns sharp enough to draw blood.
Is there anything redder than blood? If you've ever watched the blood of someone you love spill to the ground you know there is nothing so bold, so bright, so red, as blood. I've seen blood flow from people who should never have gotten hurt. Uncle Ben, Gwen, George Stacey. They were innocent bystanders who got sucked into the world of violence and death. Good people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. There is no red so strong as that which symbolizes the death of someone you love.
It's a funny thing, how red could mean so much to me in both good ways and bad. It's been a while since I've fought anyone, but I get the sense that in the next day or so I'll have to drop whatever I'm doing to battle some psychopath in an animal costume. Tonight I'm going to go home, take Mary Jane out for dinner, and then grade some papers. Maybe tomorrow will be just like today was, and maybe it'll be something completely different. But whatever it is, red will see me through.
My first Spiderman fic. I would have liked it to be longer, and I couldn't think of anything red having to do with Gwen (any suggestions?). Ooh, I'm so excited- Ultimate 14 is out in stores! Please read and review, but no flames- thanks!