AN: Took a while but here's a longer chapter for y'all. I was pleasantly surprised by how many people liked that first chapter, so I decided to add on some more! Thank you so much to all those who favourited and followed, and ESPECIALLY to those who reviewed! Please take the time to do so if you haven't already, or do so again if you're enjoying the fic!

Friend

Mary Jane took care of all the arrangements. The call to the mortuary, transportation service, the formal confirmation of death by Dr. Michaels, everything. Peter's whereabouts were questioned more than once. As May's last living next-of-kin, he was expected to be present, but Mary Jane excused him on the basis of being out for more supplies with Miles. His absence demanded answers, so Mary Jane gave the best ones that she could.

Many F.E.A.S.T. occupants were distraught that May was gone, especially those who'd been at the location the longest. Towards the end, it'd been obvious that she was sick, but everyone had dared to hope she would pull through like she always did. A history of cardiovascular issues hadn't kept her down, but this plague... it was something else. Nasty. It got her good, like so many other elderly, infirmed or newly born New Yorkers that were too weak to fight it any longer. May would be missed among this little community that she and Li had built together, and for a long time, too.

If MJ were writing an article, then the mood at F.E.A.S.T. would be best described as "melancholic". There was a certain gloom over the place, even with the promise of a cure on the horizon. The immediate terror may have abated, but the crushing sense of hopelessness never quite subsided. New York had been on the brink of death, and everyone was feeling a lot closer to the edge after their frightening brush with mortality. Families huddled together, comforted in their shared survival. Life suddenly seemed too short to waste on being apart. It would be a while before things would go back to feeling normal again.

A television was playing in the main room, switched to the main news channel for the city. People gathered around it like beggars, hungry for information. Mary Jane was among them, though a bit more off to the side than the rest. She already knew about the more recent news through her contacts at the bugle, but it was a substantially different experience seeing it happen instead of hearing about it second hand.

"At approximately 3:21 am Spider-Man engaged the colloquially known "Doctor Octopus", now identified as Dr. Otto Octavius. Mayor Norman Osborn was almost killed prior to the encounter-"

Helicopter footage of Peter's fight with his old boss, colleague, mentor, and friend took up the screen. Mary Jane watched it dispassionately, wincing where it was appropriate. Over the years she'd become somewhat desensitized to Peter's superheroing. After seeing him half-gutted by Fisk... well, there wasn't much that could top that. She never entirely stopped agonizing over it, though, just tried to convince herself that it wasn't so terrible, that Peter was better now than when he was just starting out, a naive teenager. That was the only way she could survive, or else the worry would just gnaw and gnaw at her until it ate her alive. The old trepidation was back, now, but not because of the brutal brawl she was currently watching unfold. No no, that bit was all in the past.

The battle was quite the spectacle, to say the least. All the displaced New Yorkers were thoroughly impressed, expressing their engrossment at different moments with aghast groans or awed sounds of approval. The bizarre combatants moved from the top of the tower to the side, the angles of their altercation not limited by the typical constraints of gravity. Octavius went tumbling, Spider-Man skidding vertically after him on his side before his uncanny ability to stick halted his descent. Through the darkness, drizzle, and limitations of the camera, a long streak of red was visible on the side of the tower. A little boy asked his mom, "what's that red stuff?". Mary Jane didn't hear her reply, if there was one.

"Reported sightings claim that Spider-Man obtained Oscorp's antiserum and brought it to the F.E.A.S.T. shelter in the Chinatown District-"

"Hey that's me!" said one lady as they showed a snippet of an interview. It lasted only a few seconds, confirming what the anchor had previously paraphrased.

"What happened after is a bit unclear, but we are learning more and more as the situation develops. Mass-production of a cure is indeed underway. The first doses are already on their way to being done, and with additional supplementation by Oscorp we can expect more soon. The city and Oscorp guarantee that they will have stations set up for shots come this afternoon. As for Spider-Man..."

A vertical, shaky playback started, almost definitely filmed with a smartphone. Mary Jane swallowed and closed her eyes. She'd seen gifs of this on twitter. They were already gifing it. Was that even a word? Gifing? The point was, there was an alarming lack of respect given to what came next. Notwithstanding the posts of outrage that accompanied many of the gifs, and condemnations of Sable and Oscorp, there were also those who took a sadistic pleasure in what was about to be shown.

Through a high and dirtied window, the person behind the camera followed Spider-Man's movements. He was obviously hurt, rushed, or both. Gone were the acrobatic feats and flourishes that New Yorkers had come to expect from the webslinger. Instead the swings were brisk, swift, the equivalent of sprinting through air. Then it happened. The first electrified cable snapped around Spider-Man's ankle and knocked him off balance. He might've recovered, if not for the net that came next. There was a yell, muffled but audible through the window and over the heavy breathing of the cameraman. The phone didn't move fast enough to catch the moment of impact, but a second yell made no room for doubt as to when it happened.

That particular clip ended there. MJ had seen the full, unedited video, so she knew that the News station had cut out the cameraman running down the steps, presumably to get closer. If MJ was giving him the benefit of the doubt, then maybe he'd hoped to come to Spider-Man's aid. At worst, he was trying to get a better shot of the downed Spider-Man, a rarity for native New Yorkers to see and an instant hit for the internet.

At that point the broadcast switched to videos captured from the scene by their own camera crews. It was chaotic and hard to tell what was really going on. Ever since the footage came out, Mary Jane had analyzed it over and over, but even she was unsatisfied. It was evident that there were many people milling around in an aroused state, either excited or angered. Sometimes Mary Jane could see Spider-Man thrashing like a wounded animal, but just barely. Sable vehicles were the main obstacles to the camera lens, but whoever was behind the camera managed to get a shot before Spider-Man became obscured completely by a closing door. It chilled MJ every time.

One Sable agent crouched at Spider-Man's head, a syringe in hand, Spider-Man's neck exposed. The whole scene was in great contrast to the powerful, unyielding figure shrouded in dark armour and fighting in silhouette atop Oscorp. This Spider-Man was submissive, the Sable agents the victors. He was still, so very still, and if not for the shivers MJ might've assumed him dead or unconscious.

A shiver of her own caused MJ to look away. Right now she was numb, but before, when she first heard... Panic was the only word for it. God. God fucking damn it. Poor Peter. She should've done something. Hid him under the bed. Anything would've been better than the outcome he got.

Well, she wasn't about to give up on him. She'd already started writing on her portable laptop, furiously typing up an article and an electronic letter for Norman Osborn. There was no way that man could get away with this, could justify it on any level. Super powers or no, she was going to fight this. If the power of her personal connections to the Osborn family through Harry didn't work, then she would rely on the power of the press, and if that failed, she'd hire a fucking lawyer, organize a protest, break into Oscorp herself if at all possible, anything necessary to rescue her partner.

God, if only Harry were here, he could help. He wasn't the biggest Spider-Man "fan", but I know he wouldn't approve of what his Dad is doing.

Just now, turned away from the TV, Mary Jane noticed Miles amidst the audience. He must've returned some time ago, not longer than five minutes or she would've seen him. Fists clenched around some bottles of antibiotics, the boy slowly met MJ's eyes. Somberly, she noticed the crestfallen sag of his shoulders, the redness in his eyes. A sort of understanding passed between the pair of them, a shared distress and resolve. Briefly and brusquely, Mary Jane jerked her head up at May's old office, beckoning for him to follow. He obliged, and the two made their way out of the packed common room and up the stairs. Once they were both inside she shut and locked the door behind them.

"Where's Peter?" Miles asked immediately, and for a moment Mary Jane suspected that he knew, felt the irrational flare of panic that she quickly quashed. It wasn't surprising that he asked. The question was perfectly reasonable.

Since the secret wasn't MJ's to tell, she lied smoothly, "Out and about, on the look out for more supplies. I got a call from him a few minutes ago, so he should be fine."

"Does he know...?"

"About May? Yeah... He was here. Had to leave. I think it was too hard to stay..."

"Yeah... t-that-" Discreet as could be, Miles rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. "That makes sense. I just... I can't believe it, y'know? First Mrs. P, then Spider-Man... Just when things were looking up..."

They go to shit, Mary Jane mentally finished for him. Out loud, she said, "I'm going to get him out of there. Spider-Man, I mean. He went down fighting and so are we."

With some small satisfaction, Mary Jane saw the teenager's eyes light up. Miles unmistakably wanted to be involved, so Mary Jane predicted his next words before they even left his mouth. "I want in."

"Oh really? How do you propose to help?" Although Mary Jane was glad that the teenager was so eager to lend his services, he was also just that, a teenager. He didn't have any sway with the Mayor or with a paper, and he certainly couldn't go sneaking into Oscorp or Osborne's apartment as she had done. That whole adventure had been hard enough with one person, and at the end she'd been detected anyways. If Miles tagged along and got caught, then the worst case scenario was that he could be killed by trigger happy Sable agents.

"I could, well-" Face pained, Miles trailed off, as if unsure of how to vocalize his thoughts. Eventually he finished, but it was not with the words he had originally planned to use. "...Organize a protest?"

"You know what happens to people who protest against Sable. Osborn gives them too much leash, though I'd love to see him justify their behaviour and his martial-law-tactics now that things are getting back to normal again."

"That's a risk most people will be willing to take anyways."

"What would your Mom think about it?"

Shuffling his feet uncomfortably, Miles avoided the question with a change in topic. "Look, Mary Jane, there's something else I need to tell you. It's pretty important, and I'm not sure how to explain it, but-"

Before Miles could continue, Mary Jane's cellphone abruptly went off, buzzing in her back pocket. Her heart in her throat and her hands shaking, she slowly pulled it out. Her first instinct was to hope it was Pete, that he still had service, that his cellphone wasn't confiscated, that it still had charge. It was a long shot, but all she wanted was reassurance; a text telling her he was ok, that he'd escaped, given them the slip, something.

The message sender was Joe "Robbie" Robertson, her editor and a longtime friend of both her and Peter. It was short, blunt, useful, and to the point, but witty too, just like Robbie. When Mary Jane got a text from Robbie, she could usually either expect a good-natured scolding or a tip that he was simply passing along. This time it was the latter. A movement behind MJ alerted her to Miles craning his head over his shoulder to read along with her.

'Watson. Thought you should know that a Sable squadron is being held up by police at -embedded address-. Pretty sure they have our 'itsy-bitsy' friend. -embedded link- There's an Oscorp compound nearby. Lowkey. Could be where they plan to hold him. Check it out. -Robbie'

"Our?" Mary Jane asked aloud.

SpiderNerdArmy: Just heard the news. I'm shook. #downwithsable #RESIST

Reply from ESUBoo: I know. Honestly in shock.

Reply from SuperPam: Wtf is shook.

Quite by chance, Yuri's path had crossed with the Sable squad. Her friend Terri, a fellow officer on the force, had first told her of a sighting on the Upper West Side. Then, after some tracking, she'd relayed a likely route that they were taking. With what little time Yuri had, she'd organized a barricade with what officers were healthy and willing enough to volunteer. Yuri herself was still sick, though she had high hopes for the vaccine that was to be available the following morning. Normally she would be with her ailing mother right now, but this... this was more important.

In the past, Yuri had always depended on Spider-Man's ability to be a big boy and stay one step ahead of Sablinova and her agents, since she couldn't count on being able to bail him out if he was in custody. Well, she was trying now, though her hopes weren't that high. The stakes had changed the moment he got himself captured. It wasn't like it was her problem, let alone her job to look after him, but a part of her felt like it was her responsibility to at least make an attempt.

"Thanks for taking care of me by the way..."

Yuri shook her head and brushed aside the memory of his voice. That night after the prison and plague outbreak he'd decided to stage a little breakout himself, sneaking out of the hospital right under the nurses' noses. At first Yuri had been mildly pissed when she heard, but that gave way to concern, then resignation when she called him. He'd spoken so slowly, breathlessly, like he was half-dead. After that he seemed much more mortal. For the first time since Yuri had established a permanent contact-correspondence with the vigilante, she'd actually thought he might die or get captured before this was all over. God did she hate being right.

The barricade was flimsy, made up of only a couple of flashing cars for the bulk of it, and supplemented by a few fences strewn about. Still, it was enough to block off the road and put the Sable caravan to a screeching halt. Another car pulled up behind them to block their means of backing out, boxing them in. Even with their faces obscured by visors, Yuri could tell from the first agent to leave his vehicle that they were not pleased to have been stopped. Yuri swallowed down a cough and some blood, forcing herself to stand upright as she faced them. Beside Yuri, a cadet named Frank tried to cease his tremblings, and when that didn't work he tried to cover them up by crossing his arms, as if cold.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" one agent asked, clearly out of turn as the Captain shoved past him.

"What's the meaning of this? We work with the police. We're on a patrol and you've interrupted us. I hope you have a good reason," growled the accented Captain darkly. Though his words were more civil than his comrade's, they were tainted by a passive-aggressiveness that promised a million hurts and inconveniences. It was a tone that seemed to say: "if you do not fall in line, I will be the biggest pain in your ass ever".

Unphased by now of Sable agents' intimidation tactics, Yuri replied, "A patrol? With five trucks? You've got to be shitting me. How gullible do you think we are?"

"Yeah, what you got in there?" piped up Caleb, a Corporal who for the time being had avoided all symptoms associated with the advanced stages of Devil's Breath.

Yuri could practically feel the Sable Captain's eyes narrowing. "That's the Mayor's business. It doesn't concern you."

An unexpected boom silenced the entirety of the present law enforcement personnel all at once, Sable and NYPD alike. Shaken by the sound, Yuri cast her eyes over the Sable Captain's shoulder to see the biggest truck suddenly shudder, accompanied by another boom. A dent appeared in the metal exterior of the backend storage compartment, small but impressive considering what those walls were made of. Yuri felt Terri jolt beside her, and some Sable people flinched from the fright of the occurrence. The episode wasn't over yet, though. What started as a long, low, and quiet creaking, gradually grew into a high-pitched cacophony. As the creaking hit its peak, the white vehicle slowly started to keel over. It was at that moment that the Sable agents regained enough of their sense and composure to swarm around it, propping its sides up to keep it from crashing and scrambling for their weapons.

"Shit," Frank breathed. "That's him isn't it?"

As someone who'd seen Spider-Man in action more times than most could claim the pleasure, Yuri answered, "No doubt."

The cops she had with her buzzed with conversation behind her. Each voice and proposal was a little different in their reaction to this scene. There was awe, antipathy, anticipation, agitation, anxiety, apprehension, and aggression. Best described, her coworkers were in a storm of emotion. Snippets of scrambled arguments made it to Yuri's ear, adding to her own confusion.

"Should we go help him?"

"How, Caleb? Shoot them?" said a different officer, David, scornfully. "We get into a firefight with Sable and they'll slaughter us. Their weapons are like nothing I've ever seen before. Freaky science fiction shit."

"Well we can't just do nothing."

"Why not? We're not doing nothing, anyhow. I agreed to help stop Sable from dropping the Spider off at wherever they're headed, to try and work out a peaceful solution, but that's it. I am not risking my life for him. He can take care of himself."

"David is right. We've done enough by stalling them, more than anyone expected of us with the force in the state that it is. Look, I can see some reporters already coming this way. Media coverage will help his cause."

"Spider-Man is a damn hero. He saved my little girl by getting that anti-serum."

"I'm not saying I'm not grateful, Terri, but if we go anywhere near that... animal, well, in that state he might put a dent in us."

"Morgan has a point. Besides, Terri, are you really going to die for him when your daughter needs you?"

"Shut up!" cried Yuri, and everyone quieted. The plague and pandemonium of past days had made Yuri more of a leader amongst her peers. She'd been the last to give up, and was known to be a close confidant of Spider-Man, so that earned her a place of respect exclusive from her rank. Furthermore, this makeshift mission was her idea, under her terms, and under her indirect and unsaid leadership. They waited on her word with baited breath, but Yuri didn't know what to tell them. Could she really ask these people to risk their lives, just to give Spider-Man a distraction that may prove unproductive?

Her heart clenched when she saw the Sable Captain calmly poke a syringe-and-cylinder shaped gas dispenser into the gap of the vehicle's cargo hold. A gasmask covered his chin as a safety precaution. As the attached canister emptied its contents, the erratic shifts and pitches of the automobile began to abate. At last, they'd subsided into stillness once more. She gulped and clenched a fist around the handle of her pistol, infuriated by the sight. Should she really just give up on this stupid crusade until a better opportunity presented itself? God, why couldn't someone make this decision for her? In that way her guilt might be lessened, at least, when she inevitably made either choice.

The personal, portable radio phone that Yuri kept in her breast pocket suddenly came to life. At first all she managed to catch were the words "Watanabe", "don't", and "down", and a code that started with "10", though she clearly recognized the crisp vocal chords of the Chief. When there was no immediate response, the Chief repeated himself. She pulled it out so as to better hear it, and this time the second message was audible, no longer muffled by the material of her jacket.

"10-19. Watanabe, if you still want a job tomorrow, you'll stand down right now," Chief's stern voice crackled through her radio, though it sounded reluctant. Of course, Yuri may have been imagining or misperceiving that last bit. His timely commands were puzzling to Yuri, since she had not reported her current whereabouts or actions for fear of a situation just like this. Being forced to choose between her morals and her childhood dream of being a police officer, now realized after years of brutal schooling, was a nightmare she dared not consider.

"How the hell-"

"Frank told me everything."

Fast enough to get whiplash, Yuri whipped her head around to shoot Frank a dirty look. The younger man had scurried out of sight to make his call, hidden half-ducked behind a cruiser. To his credit, Frank tried to look guilty as he stuffed his phone out of sight, as though he hoped his contrite countenance might appease Yuri. When the ferocity of her gaze didn't wane or waver, he resorted to more desperate measures. Frank, tattle-tale that he was, gulped into his radio, "She's glaring at me, Chief."

"For God's sake Yuri don't act so surprised. I would've found out soon anyway. It's starting to show up on some of the social medias. You've made a scene, and a real mess for yourself."

"Well what was I supposed to do?" she snapped, forgetting her rank and sense of discretion for a second.

"I know you've got a soft spot for Spider-Man, but this is beyond your jurisdiction, Watanabe. Goes all the way up to the Mayor's office, and maybe higher, if rumours are to be believed. It's big, bigger than all of us. From now on until I get things a little more figured out, Spider-Man is off limits," for this last sentence the Chief broadcasted more generally, addressing anyone in range of their radios.

"But Chief-" The stupefied female detective scrambled for words but could find none that would fully express her revulsion.

"You're a good cop, Yuri," Chief spoke softly. "But there's nothing you can do for him now, and you'd be less help if you were fired from the force. Go home, get some rest, make sure your Mom gets her shot tomorrow."

Not into her radio, but to herself, Yuri muttered, "I don't believe that."

A sliver of her psyche concurred with Chief's cold rationality. The other part of her felt sick. In all likelihood his intentions were innocent enough. Chief was probably just trying to protect her position in the police department from an attack by Osborn. Spider-Man was still technically, legally a fugitive and vigilante, just as Norman Osborn was the Mayor. As much as she hated to admit it, the Chief had a point. For now at least, the law wasn't on Yuri's side...

DanielleP: Saw this big showdown with Sable and NYPD. What a world we live in.

Reply from AWSMSCE: Turned out pretty anticlimatic tho.

Tia09: NYCWallCrawler You ok? NYCWallcrawler NYCWallcrawler

Reply from Michelle_W: No, no he is not, and you only need to at/tag once.

Out of breath, Mary Jane made a bounding b-line for the one cop she recognized. The Japanese-American woman was casual-clothed, wearing a black leather jacket over a button-up shirt. She seemed weak, sagging where she stood, each step precarious. There was a pale pallor about her skin and an occasional, rattling cough in her throat that screamed of Devil's Breath symptoms. If MJ remembered right, she was a lieutenant, or maybe a Captain, one of the two. She was pretty sure Peter had said she got promoted a while back. Yuri Watanabe didn't know MJ, but MJ knew her, or more accurately of her.

The second she'd registered Robbie's text, Mary Jane had rushed to the right address. She'd left Miles in charge of the F.E.A.S.T. shelter in spite of his pleas to come along. Someone had to stay with F.E.A.S.T., and MJ had promised Pete that they would take care of that part for him. Now that May was a missing hand, and with the place so crowded, the shelter needed all the help it could get. Besides, she didn't need Miles tagging along on what was not only her profession, but also a deeply personal matter.

Peter had been here, perhaps but mere moments before, but MJ's little car had run out of gas a block before her destination. By now most gas stations in the city had closed down, abandoned by their paranoid or plague-stricken employees and forgotten by management. She hadn't filled up the tank in over a week. The herds of boisterous taxi cabs that usually populated the city had all but disappeared, leaving the streets empty and eerie. Everything had conspired against Mary Jane to keep her from making it there on time. It killed her to know that she'd been so close, and at the same time so far.

Robbie's tip had given her a head start, but the F.E.A.S.T. shelter was still a ways away from the Upper West Side. Other reporters had been more lucky than she, and had beat her to the scene. Like her, they were intent on trying to wring information out of the NYPD, bustling around them with microphones, penpads, and cameras. Out of all the industries in New York that'd been crippled by the terrorism, sickness, and convicts, the News outlets had stayed strong. They'd thrived, even, essentially selling the sensationalized details of New York's plight to the outside world for profit. And now that the apocalypse seemed even more distant with recovered cure, their zeal had only blossomed. Spider-Man was the next story to sell, now more than ever. Intermingled among them were civilians, on their own quests for scoops to spread on social media.

"Captain Watanabe! Wait!"

At first the officer pointedly ignored her, but MJ pursued and persevered, calling the woman's name all the while. Some disgruntled camera men parted for her and left a path open for just a moment. She surged forward, dodging another cop that tried to intercept her as she came closer. At last she had access to Watanabe, and she did not look happy. 'Pissed' was more of an appropriate word, though Mary Jane didn't plan to include that in anything she wrote.

"Captain Watanabe, please, I'm with the Bugle-"

"No reporters, please."

"Please, you must have something to say about all this."

"I really don't."

Desperate times called for desperate measures. MJ's voice dropped, below the threshold of noise generated by the other, less bold journalists and shutterbugs. Barely loud enough for even Yuri's ears, she said, "I know Spider-Cop. Personally. Please. I need to know what happened here."

Yes, she would probably publish what she could dig up, since that was her job and her one way of safely helping, but on another level Mary Jane was terrified. Peter had been taken away, and would be away for God-knows-how-long. MJ didn't intend to just let Osborn have him, but a part of her was starved for information. Was Peter alive? Had Yuri seen him? What did the Sable agents say? Was it possible that they might've let something slip? So many questions and not enough answers to settle the high pace of her heart or the pressure in her blood.

Yuri froze in place, a statue surrounded by the blinking lights of police cruisers and the distant flashes of cameras. Ever so slowly her eyes narrowed into slits. Mary Jane's career had taught her through experience how to not squirm under such a scrutinizing stare, but the urge was still there. Then, Yuri started to nod, as if confirming to herself something she already knew. Encouraged and unnerved by this, Mary Jane spoke again.

"He's my friend too, please..."

"Oh alright, come with me to my car and we'll talk."

What Mary Jane didn't notice as she followed the detective and Captain was a small figure watching her from the side of an alleyway wall. In fact, nobody noticed Miles Morales, so focused were they on the dispersing police barricade. Not when he climbed higher, or clumsily scurried out of sight did he draw their eyes, and that was just the way he liked it.

Whew there you go. Decided to replace dividing lines with little fake-Twitter/forums inserts. The "at" symbol isn't allowed on the site unfortunately.

Once again, don't be afraid to leave a review! I really appreciate them -heart-