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I got twenty now (they might not show up. It was an alert on mwa phone)

A grey light found it's way into Peter's brain, making him groan absentmindedly. His arm was burning, much more than the rest of him at least. His eyes fluttered, letting the grey airiness of dawn filter through. He was on a couch, a very small couch; but a couch nonetheless. A large handmade quilt was draped over him, and an open first aid kit sat on the small coffee table. He heard scuffling in the kitchen, no doubt someone was in there.

He sat up, weakly rubbing his head as he tried to gain a better view of the small room. There wasn't much else, to his surprise.
"You're awake." A voice said.
He closed his eyes when the migraine from the sudden noise made its way through his ears.
When he opened them again he saw a tall red haired girl standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
"Yeah." He mustered, his dry throat burning.
"Here." She said, extending her arm to hand him a glass of water. He gulped it down.
"Thanks. I- I should get going." He stood slowly.
"You can't leave! Have you seen yourself? You're in no condition to go fighting... things like that one on TV!"
She pushed him back down onto the couch, pretty easily to his surprise.
"But if I stay, It'll come! It could kill you!" But he didn't struggle, fatigue overwhelming him. "I'll be fine..."

The girl stood back quietly, her arms folded. "What is that thing?"
He didn't answer, instead looking at his feet. The girl sat down on the coffee table, sympathy in her eyes.
"Alright then. What are you doing out there on your own? Don't you have someone to help you?"
He shook his head. "She left me a long time ago."
"Oh." The girl couldn't seem to contain her curiosity. "But, why?"
"I was having a fight with that psycho who showed up after the power plant went out. And he got her mixed up in the problem and dropped her in the clock tower." He looked at the girl, who was looking out the window as he retold his story. "I managed to catch her, and I told her to run. After that I never saw her again. Maybe she managed to catch that plane to England." He looked at his feet again. "She went to Oxford."
"That's... nice." The girl said. "But there isn't anyone else? No one?"

Peter looked at her again, trying to look hopeful. "Yeah." He lied. "I should probably go."
"Wait!" The girl exclaimed as he limped to the window.
Peter turned around as he reached the fire escape.
"I'm Mary - Jane. What's your name?"
"That's the secret that the world will want to know until time ends." Peter smiled for the first time in a few months, swinging away into the awakening sky.

Gwen Stacy
24 Hours Earlier

Gwen Stacy walked down the polished hallways of Oxford University. She had a small notebook tucked under her arm, and her hair was loose and in curls. She would have been otherwise happy, except for two things.

The first was because she always felt like she was doing the wrong thing. Was she supposed to be here? Should she have stayed?

The second was regret. She regretted leaving behind New York in such a rush, not having the chance to say, 'I love you' before catching a cab in the traffic and riding three blocks to the airport. She wondered, if at all, she would ever see that Bugboy of her's again.

She'd called. She called every night. But he didn't answer.

She walked outside of the castle like development, the grey skies hanging over her shoulders as she left the grounds. She caught a cab - it was still a strange feeling, being on the wrong side of the road - and went to her small brownstone apartment. A few flights of stairs up, she unlocked a door at the end of the hall and walked in to the boxes she still hadn't unpacked yet.

She hadn't been here long. As a matter of fact, only a little bit more than a month, though she still lacked the want to fully unpack. It was a tiny place to put so much stuff. So many memories.

She sighed, sitting on the small sofa - with springs, she noted - and flipped on the small box TV that sat perched in-between two narrow windows. The screen snapped on, a dull hum accompanying the sound of a news reporter reading off of a notecard. Gwen sighed and started folding the clothes in a basket that sat on the other end of the little red couch.

'Investigators are still puzzling over what happened at what happened in a small hospital in New York this morning. The vigilante known as Spider-Man was rolled in the night before, apparently suffering a large amount of injuries, but surprise wasn't the only thing that he brought with him.
Some sort of animal - no one yet knows what it is - was reported to be seen attacking Spider-Man on the scene," The reporter said as a video appeared on the left hand side of the screen. It was blurry, as if taken by a video camera or phone. A large, brown-grey something lumbered across the screen. Police officers seemed hesitant about shooting at it.
Gwen soon saw why, as the beast was standing over Peter.
She drew in a sharp breath, leaning into the screen and abandoning her laundry on the couch.
It changed - she was shocked - into the Lizard, taking him up with it's tail as a python would it's prey. The crowd was frantic now, though a few still remained; watching in utter terror and surprise. The police rained fire on it, and the best suddenly dropped Spider-Man. Spider-Man lay on the ground for what felt like hours before getting up and swinging away.

Gwen stood, running to the small bedroom and throwing a handful of clothes into a suitcase, before rushing out the door to the airport.

Gwen Stacy had a plane to catch.

Peter Parker
New York 12:07 P.M.

Peter groggily woke, finding himself on a tree branch. He stood up, rubbing his eyes (or, eye; the lens of the mask covered the other one) and leaning on the trunk of the tree. He was still tired, and sore from the branch; but it had been just about the best he'd slept the past week.

His arm still burned, but not as much as before. He still had cuts and bruises from yesterday; and almost everything ached from falling out of that window. He grimaced as he looked at his arm; which was a puffy red and had more red cuts across the length of it. He let the limb sag to the side as he looked at the people walked about the park. There was a picnic going on across the river on a stretch of bright green lawn. People walked about the quiet park, shadows of skyscrapers being cast across the trees in the noonday sun.

He lay down on his stomach again, watching the people walloping cheerfully about below. He sighed; whishing he could be doing that just about now. He sat on that tree branch for a long time, thinking about how things were going and hoping they would soon end. Peter soon dozed off, the sun shining through the leaves of the great oak tree he was sleeping in.

He didn't notice when two three little kids ran over the bridge, laughing with screeching with joy as they chased one another. The little boy chased the two girls, who yelped playfully and ran under the tree. The ran around the tree, and Peter was awakened by the noise. He yawned again before closing his eyes and trying to fall back asleep.

The children then stopped and sat down.
"I won." Stated the boy proudly, laying down with his hands crossed behind his head.
"No! I did!" One of the girls exclaimed, laying down as well.
"Hey!" Said the second. "Betcha ya can't hit that thing up there!"

She pointed to the barely visible outline of Peter on the branch, now snoring softly. The boy snickered and found a nearby rock, saying "Watch this!" The rock flew through the air and hit Peter's side. He yelped, loosing his balance and concentration and falling out of the tree. He managed to grab a hold of the branch before he fell all of the way down, now wide awake and panicking.

The three little kids stared, wide eyed at the vigilante. A nearby jogger stopped and watched as well.
"I'm sorry!" the boy said.
Peter climbed back onto his tree branch tiredly, chest heaving from the sudden awakening. He crouched on the limb, watching as they stared up at him.

"It's... okay." He finally stammered, and the boy's shoulders sagged in relief. Peter's did the same as he sat down on the tree branch, his legs hanging over the edge. The three little kids remained staring in awe at Peter, who watched warily. After a while a voice called for them, and they left, looking over their shoulders in what seemed like sympathy.

New York, New York 5:26 P.M.

Peter hung low in the alleys of the city, letting the shadows offer him the shelter and cover he needed as he scrounged the back alleys for anything useful. There wasn't much; though he did manage to stop a few petty crimes. He wondered what the police thought of him as he tended to a small knife cut. He laughed inside. He used to tease people about that.

Soon he found a payphone. It was ironic, he only had enough money left for that. He made the choice to use it. The little slips of metal slid into the small hole and clicked as the receiver turned on. He dialed the number, waiting as the phone rang.
"Hello?"
Peter took a deep breath, making static climb through the ear piece. "Hi Aunt May."
"Peter Parker! Where have you been!?" His aunt suddenly exclaimed, and he winced as the sound traveled through the ear piece.
"I'm... I'm sorry. I called to tell you I won't be home for a while."
He voice softened. "How come Peter?"
He frowned, taking in another breath as silence hung over him.
"Peter?"
"Okay, okay." He said softly. "I want to tell you something... but I can't. I just can't."
"It's aright Peter dear. Just tell me."
He stopped at those words, not knowing what to do. But then he just told her.
"Aunt May... I would have told you earlier... but I couldn't seem to be able too... I-I'm..."
"What is it?"
"I'm... I'm Spider-Man."
He leaned on the wall, sliding down the lazily lain brickwork and sliding down slowly, the cord pulling at his ear.
"I would have told you earlier... I'm sorry." And then he hung up

oOoOo

Peter clung to a fire escape in a narrow side street, the shadows from the daunting sun casting over him in a red and black haze.
Crash!

Peter looked hysterically around the small alleyway, his heart beating at a million miles an hour. He froze on the spot, his eyes searching warily about the small area. The wary vigilante crawled slowly on the walls to a dark corner, where he crouched on the wall. He looked again through the grey shadows of the trash bags and boxes that conveniently littered the place. Suddenly, a loud pop echoed through the canyon he crouched in, and he leapt to the side, a dart narrowly missing him. He slid across the brickwork, the dull sound of boots scraping concrete reaching his ears in a lazy hum.
A second sound uttered through the alleyway, and again he lept to the side. He couldn't feel any presence, yet he knew that someone wasn't far away. His eyes felt heavy, and he strained to keep them open.

Suddenly a third blast droned through the silent alley; and for a third time, Peter manage to jump out of the way. But much to his surprise, the projectile was longer. Similar to the ropes with balls on the end from the ninja movies he had watched as a child. n electric current passed through him; not very strong, but still strong enough to leave him clinging unsteadily to the wall. He clenched his teeth.
"Very clever." He shouted into the shadows. "But not funny. Not funny at all."

He heard the clink of a cocking gun; and he braced himself. Once again, a dull vibration threaded through his mind, but again, the projectile was longer - no, larger than he thought. A net flew over him, and he gasped in surprise as an electric shock ricocheted through him. With a cry of pain he fell to the ground, the net sparking blue in the shadows of the alley.
Peter closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, crying out again as another shock hit him.

He heard the sound of heavy boots clanking against the concrete and he looked up to see a heavily clad man towering over him. He seemed prepared for anything; right down to the bulletproof jacket and a brown combat boots that seemed out of place. A gun slung over his shoulder, but he couldn't see anything else; his vision was getting blurry.
"Enough to cause short term paralysis. Quite clever on your part to continue evading me. Not staying in your; - ehm - normal habitats." The man said, answering his confusion. His voice had a German ring to it, making Peter shudder. "In case you were wondering, I am Doctor Pent. I have been hired to capture you. You will be an - interesting specimen to work with." He looked ad Peter with a stern gaze. "And I do take my business very seriously."

Peter watched the man warily as he busied himself with something on what appeared to be a belt. He felt a sharp sting and his vision clouded with black spot that soon overwhelmed him, and he fell into a dreamless but fitfull sleep.