Chapter 6 - Man of the People

xXx

It was a Sunday evening, and I couldn't help but go out for some web-slinging. I was very confused. I hit it off surprisingly well with Gwen the night before, but that's when I realized the awful truth: I just couldn't have a girlfriend. It was something I failed to realize when it came to Felicia, too. In order for me to have a girlfriend, Spider-Man would have to cease to exist, for good. Going out every week-night, and staying out for hours on end was just something I wouldn't be able to explain. Of course, with me being jobless, the schedule could very well have a drastic change.

And when I started thinking about the schedule, I was hit by a second realization: maybe I wasn't in it for the people. The fact that I put my time as Spider-Man off into a corner of the day was enough to tell me that I was only using it as a way to vent. What if something crazy happened in the middle of the day? Would I follow my schedule, or would Spider-Man have to show himself in broad daylight?

Still, just the thought of Gwen had me dodging head-on collisions with buildings, due to my mind being astray. I couldn't have a girlfriend. It wouldn't be fair to her. Besides, she was a pretty girl, surely she'd find somebody else? Why would she have to be with me?

After a few more minutes of deep-thought, I came to a stop atop the Daily Bugle. Ignoring the anger rising in my body, due to the Bugle's rather colorful articles about me, I scanned the city skyline. Everything looked to be in order. A slight fog was blanketing the city, giving it a very chilling-look. And that's when my spider-sense went berserk.

xXx

William Baker watched as three of his lackeys loaded up a truck with valuable paintings.

"Come on, move your asses!" William shouted at the men. "The boss wanted this stuff yesterday!"

"We're moving as fast as we can," one of the other men replied. "How about you try helping us out, Bill?"

William snorted.

"I've already had that job. I'm in the big leagues now. Won't be long before I'm seein' Mr. Osborn every single day," he laughed. "But for now, I'm dragging you'se around with me."

"The circle of life..." the other man muttered. He continued with helping the other two loading the paintings into the truck.

The alley they had parked in was, luckily for them, extremely dark. It concealed them from the rest of the city nicely.

"How many more do we have to go?" William asked.

"Only a couple more," came his answer. "Hey, how do you want us to stack the sandbags against them?"

"Just... prop the paintin's up against the sides, and put the bags in front of 'em, it's that easy."

The lackey nodded, and continued with his job. As he turned back around towards the truck's back door, he was met by a gloved fist.

CRACK!

He went flying through the air, and smashed into a brick wall opposite of the truck.

"-the hell?" William began, spinning back around to face the truck.

Nothing was there.

xXx

I almost felt bad for what I'd done: I was sure that the man I had just knocked into the wall wasn't going to be coming around anytime soon, and when he woke up in a cell, I was certain his pain was going to be excruciating. But the key word is almost.

Some guy in a goofy-looking green/black striped sweater turned around to look at me. I assumed that the truck I was hiding in was extremely dark, because he hadn't seemed to notice me, which was probably a good thing: he looked well-built enough that if he got a hold of me, I'd probably be crushed to dust, even with my spider-strength.

"Hey, Vito, get over here," he waved to one of the other men with him.

Three guys standing, and only one of them looked like a challenge.

"Get inside there, and check it out." He pointed at the truck's storage compartment, where I'd been hiding in the darkness.

I saw Vito reach down around his waist, retrieving a handgun. A few seconds later, the other weak-looking guy did the same. The striped-sweater guy did not, however. Vito climbed up into the back, quickly standing back up, gun raised.

"Anybody in here?" he called.

Why the hell would I reply to him?

Because the truck wasn't exactly as big as a mall like I'd hoped, I only had a few seconds to react before he eventually bumped into me. I bounced up to the ceiling, and looked down on him. He continued walking, smacking into the end of the storage cab.

"Dammit," he cursed, massaging his forehead. "Boss, nobody's in her- GAH!"

I came down full force on his head, smashing him into the floor, causing him to fire off a round before he passed out. His gun clattered against the wall. The second lackey began to make a mad dash for Vito's body when his boss stuck out his arm, holding him back.

"It's the Spider-Man," he told him. "Don't go in there: it's just what he's wantin'..."

He was a wise man. Kicking off the end of the storage cab, I torpedoed out of the truck, sticking to the same wall I had knocked the first guy into.

"What'd I tell yah?" the big guy yelled.

The lackey trained his gun on me, and fired three consecutive shots. I dodged each one, and splinters of brick flew in all directions.

The boss turned around, reached into the truck, and pulled out a large bag of sand. He was definitely as strong as he looked. With a groan, he lobbed the sandbag my way, narrowly missing his guy's head in the process. I was easily able to avoid it, but after it smashed into the wall, it threw clumps of sand everywhere.

"Watch where you throw that sand, man!" the lackey yelped.

"Hah! Sandman, you get it?" I quipped, something I rarely did. I repeated the torpedo maneuver, and smacked into the lackey, who was able to fire off one more round. This time, it shot the glass straight out of a window above us, sending glass showering down on us. A fist to the jaw silenced him and his gun.

"Just me and you then, Sandman."

"You ain't takin' me in," he assured me, popping his neck and cracking his knuckles.

"We'll see about that."

I sprinted toward him, readying my shoulder for a tackle. Just as I collided with him, it suddenly felt like my entire skeleton was going to shoot out of my side.

"Owww!" I yelled, stunned.

Sandman laughed. Suddenly, before I had anytime at all to react, he had his giant hands wrapped around my head. He started to squeeze, tighter and tighter. I could feel a major throbbing in my head, partly due to my blaring spider-sense. Then, a loud CRACK! ripped through the air.

I had thought for sure that he had crushed my skull to bits, yet somehow leaving me alive. But instead, after a few moments, his hands slid from my face, and I heard something slump to the ground. I turned around and looked down, finding that Sandman had been killed. He was lying on his back, a pool of blood trickling underneath him. I averted my gaze upwards to find the last person I'd expected to see at that moment: Captain Stacy. He was accompanied by two other officers.

"You guys get this checked out, I'm going to have a word with the Spider-Man," he told the other officers. They looked at eachother very uneasily, and then glared at me: I was, after all, a vigilante, operating by my own rules.

Massaging my head, I watched as Captain Stacy waved me over to a wall beside the truck. I followed him as the other officers, still glaring, made their way to the back of the alley, where two of the four guys involved were laying down, out cold. Sandman was the only one who had been killed. I took some slight pride in knowing that I at least hadn't been the one to do him in.

Finally, after I met up with Captain Stacy by the wall, I was once again surprised, this time by the fact that he wore a smile on his face.

"You did good, Spider-Man," he told me. "We got some calls about all the gunfire, and because you were here, nobody got hurt, and nothing was stolen."

"Could you tell that to the Bugle?" I rhetorically asked, happy to hear somebody else talking good about my actions. "Thanks for having faith in me, Captain Stacy."

I couldn't believe I'd let it slip. Peter Parker may have met this man, but Spider-Man had not, up until five seconds ago, and on top of that, he'd never told Spider-Man his name. I stared at him, my jaw unhinged - not that he could tell through my mask - and I waited for him to reply.

"We need more good men like you," he said, almost acting like he hadn't heard me refer to him by his name and rank.

"I'd gladly give up these powers for a shot at a normal life," I admitted. In those five, long years, I'd almost forgotten what a normal life was like.

"Maybe so, but it's because of the things you do that keep the people believing," Captain Stacy told me. "You'd be surprised to know that you have quite the following."

He was right, it certainly was surprising. I'd always thought that, out of the five people who knew about me, they'd all think I was some demented creature of the night. To know that I was bringing faith back into this city was invigorating. It made me feel great.

"Well... that's..." I was speechless. I smiled. "I'll try to keep it up."

"Good," Captain Stacy grinned. "I look forward to helping you out as best as I can."

With a nod, he turned around, and went to join back up with his co-workers.

After standing by the wall for a few more seconds, soaking in the information Captain Stacy had just told me, I finally recovered enough to swing off.

Soaring over all of New York City by a thin thread felt like an all-new high, like the first time I'd swung around.

You're welcome, I thought, looking down upon my city.

xXx

A/N: This may come out as a short chapter, I don't know. WordPad seems to make long chapters very short-looking. I had William Baker (Sandman's real name, unlike in Spider-Man 3, where his comic streetname was his actual name) in this chapter just to throw another classic character in. Sure, he got killed after about two minutes of pagetime, but it was still a cameo nonetheless. This chapter was basically just a way to make Peter feel better about himself after having a terrible time with his thoughts (and it was also a way to 1. bring Spidey back into the story and 2. have Spidey meet Captain Stacy, which was something I wasn't sure how to go about doing. Sandman was about 50% based off of his Noir-counterpart, mainly in the way he went about trying to crush Spidey's head (he succeeded in doing so to a gangster in the second Noir story, and... it wasn't a pretty sight). Noir was a major inspiration for this story, so I like sticking these little nods in when I can. Also, I was really hoping to name this chapter either (Spider)Man of the People, or Spider-Man of the People, but due to FanFic's stupid way of formatting, both ways would have looked weird. It was only a simple play on words, anyway. Well, go ahead and leave a review!