"It was an amazing and tragic scene at the Empire State University graduation ceremony today. When straight-A student Herman Schultz arrived equipped with advanced weapons, the now infamous Green Goblin came in out of one of the nearby buildings (investigations on how it got in there are currently underway). In almost the same instant, the Goblin's consistent sparring partner Spider-Man jumped in and so a three-way fight broke out.

"Though most students fled the scene immediately, Schultz was gravely injured during only the first few minutes and was soon after rushed to a hospital, where he is now on life support. Another student, identified as Gwen Stacy, daughter of NYPD's Captain Stacy, was actually targeted by the Goblin once Schultz was defeated.

"As the brawl progressed through the streets, the monster ultimately injured her, captured her, and brought her to the nearby Queensboro Bridge, where the fight resumed on top of one of the bridge's towers. However, the bridge's supports were weakened during the battle and the tower eventually collapsed, sending both the Green Goblin and Gwen Stacy into the East River below.

"If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of either one, please contact the number on your screen.

"In other news...."

I really hate that lady.

Did I call the number? No. Of course not. She's dead. What's the use? She's dead.

And it was late. I had to go home. Curfew, y'know. So I pulled some clothes out of the dumpster and headed for the house.

Aunt May was waiting for me there with Captain Stacy. Great. Just what I needed....

"Peter, we were so worried about you!" Aunt May leapt to her feet and bear-hugged me so tight I choked. "Where were you? Are you okay? What happened? Have you seen Gwen? What are you wearing?"

"Ach! I'm fine! I just walked around a bit! I'm all right! Get off!"

I shoved her away and then Captain Stacy came up to me.

"So you haven't seen her then, Peter? You.... you really don't know anything?"

"She's dead."

Wasn't it obvious? Anyway, it was his turn to have a loved one die. Maybe next time he had to break the news, he'd finally get it. His eyes were getting all teary now.

"Peter, how could you say something like that?" Aunt May gasped. "Have you seen her?"

"Isn't it obvious? She was plunged into the East River and she already had wounds. If she hasn't been found by now, she's long gone." I turned to Captain Stacy. "And where were you? Where was your team? Why are here and not looking for your dead daughter?" He ran out the front door.

Aunt May and I just stood there a second in awkward silence.

"Peter, we need to talk," she finally said.

"Yeah, I know, it's late – I'm sorry."

"Peter, what is this?"

I turned towards Aunt May and saw a syringe rolling in her palm. A misty liquid steamed inside.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I don't. Where'd you find that?"

"Peter, you are going to tell me right this instant –"

"I told you – I don't know. Where'd you find that?"

"You do know."

"I don't. Where'd you find that?"

"On your closet floor!"

Awkward silence again.

"Peter, you are going to tell me right this instant what this is."

"I don't know. What were you doing in my closet?"

"I was doing the laundry, Peter. Now what is this?"

"It's mine. Give it back."

"So you do know?"

"Give it back."

"Peter, is this a drug?"

"It's mine. Give it back."

"Peter, are you on drugs?"

"No. Give it back."

"How do I know, Peter? How do I know this isn't the latest trend amongst all your friends from school?"

"All my friends are dead. Give it back."

"How do I know this isn't just the beginning of some wild adventure?"

"It isn't. Give it back."

"How do I know this isn't a steroid?"

"Give it back."

"Peter, you are going to tell me what the hell this is right now!"

"Or what? You'll ground me? I just graduated college! Jesus Christ! Give it back!" I grabbed it out of her hand and ran upstairs. None of her business what I'm doing with my time. The curfew was bad enough – I didn't need to put up with this. So I started packing the formulas.

Then I heard her on the way up the stairs. She said something, but I didn't pay attention to what. I just grabbed the vials and a syringe (only one of those, of course – too pointy) and climbed out the window.

And I ran.

I don't even know where I was running to. I crossed the bridge and I passed ESU. I felt like I was getting close.

Just around the corner, now, I was thinking, and she'll be there. You didn't do this again. She'll be there.

But when I turned the corner, I ran into that sluttish Mary Jane Watson.

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO TELL YOU PEOPLE??? I'M FINE!!!!!!!!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I shoved her to the ground and kept on running. In the opposite direction now.

People were staring. I didn't need that, either. So I turned into an alley and kept on running.

It was night, after all. It was time to inject.

But the usual wouldn't be enough; I poured the whole vial into the syringe and it pierced my skin but it wasn't working fast enough so I shot in more.

At last, red and blue and green – that color was the only ones I seemed to want to see these days.

Red and blue.

Green.

Red and blue. Crimson.

Green.

---

Dawn was breaking when I woke up. Or dusk. I couldn't tell. Dark, though. Very dark.

I was in an alley – might've been the same alley I was in before. I couldn't tell. But the vials and syringe I had used were there, too. I guess Spider-Man picked 'em up. Or maybe it was just the same alley. Who knows. Or cares.

I was sitting behind a dumpster. That helped in picking out some rags to wear. Slipped my stuff into it, too. Then I went out.

I wondered how the fight had went down. It didn't seem like I had lost, even though I wasn't in bed – Spider-Man had probably just opted to stay away from that witch of an aunt. Fine by me.

I walked around a bit until I found Times Square. It was a curious site. I mean, barely anyone had been in any of the other streets, and I figured it was 'cause of the increasing darkness. But there was a huge crowd of people in Times Square, like on New Year's but without the ball. And they seemed upset. And one of the huge TVs was in the center, playing out the last fight between Spider-Man and the Green Goblin.

I watched on – it was mostly over, though. Spider-Man had the Goblin in a headlock, leaning in towards some loose electric wires. Actually, it looked like they were in Times Square – not that alley. Told you I had won.

But then, Goblin flipped over and Spider-Man was thrown against that triangle building – the Daily Bugle. That's when I noticed that the real Daily Bugle was on the ground. But it wasn't on the TV. I guessed there was a lot more to go.

Then the Green Goblin ran over and punched Spider-Man deep into building, blood dripping from the Spider's back as he squirmed in pain. I felt my own back for the wound.

The Spider was twitching now, twitching towards the Goblin, helplessly and worthlessly. The Goblin just jumped upwards and landed a good blow to the Bugle, which suddenly toppled down on top of the Spider.

"Oh my God...." I turned to look for who had said that, some old man in like his 60s.

As the Green Goblin left the way I had come, Betty Brant's incessant voice sounded throughout the square. "When the two fighters, whom so many New Yorkers have been touched by in these past months, started brawling in the middle of Times Square, many had the strange feeling it would be a final battle. Now, as such a premonition proves true, we are all devastated by what appears to be the greatest tragedy since 9-11."

What was going on? I felt panicked.... That couldn't be true.... I was Spider-Man.... It couldn't be true....

"We have all felt the presence of Spider-Man in some way or another. Many of us have been saved by him. Many of us have come to look to him as an icon of good will and justice. Many of us loved him like we would a father. And we are all now feeling his absence...."

Impossible, just impossible! I couldn't be buried under the rubble because I was standing right there!

"I can't believe this is happening...." I turned to that old man. He seemed familiar somehow.

"It – it isn't," I stammered. "It's impossible."

He started silently crying. He seemed wise.

"So many people's lives were saved by that man.... He saved more people in a few months than our government has in the past ten years.... He showed us what is goodness.... But even more, he touched us on a personal level.... He was amongst the best of us...."

Impossible, Spider-Man was me! I wasn't dead, was I?

I had to say something.

"No, he is amongst the best of us! He has to be alive!" The man looked at me. In his eye, I could see that he'd never judge anyone by their race, persuasion, or even their past.

"I know what you mean," he told me. "Spider-Man was more than a man. He was an icon. No matter what happens to the body, his message will live on."

He seemed capable of finding good in everyone. "What message is that?"

"With great power comes great responsibility."

With great power comes....

"What the hell is this?" He stared at me and blinked. "Who are you? Who do think you are? You're not! Get away from me!" I shoved him aside and ran off.

Betty Brant was still talking as I ran away from that whiny crowd. "He's dying. He was taken to NYU Hospitals Center, but they say he has little chance. So instead of futile prayer, let us reminisce in the memories he has offered us. Let us pay our respects by respecting the mask. And let us not move on without effect, but let us instead move on in the path he has set...."

---

NYU Hospitals Center. I couldn't just do nothing – something was wrong. I knew that much. I was Spider-Man, yet Spider-Man was dying....

I charged into the hospital to find another small crowd. Everyone was crying. Some silently, some openly. I was the only one without a reddened face.

I ran past them to the lady at the desk.

"Where's Spider-Man?" The lady stared at me, confused.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to reveal that information." There were tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Please, I'm – I'm Peter Parker."

"Who?"

"I...." Did she know who I was? "I'm a friend of Spider-Man. Please let me in...."

"Are you a reporter?" she snapped. I'll admit I was taken aback.

"No!"

Awkward silence as a kid in the corner sniffled and a lonesome woman cried out.

"I'm a friend of Spider-Man. Please let me in – it's urgent."

She nodded, solemnly, and got up to lead the way. We walked through the halls past all of the crying doctors until she finally pointed to a door.

"Doctor Bromwell is seeing him right now. When he's done, you may go in." I told her okay and waited for her to leave.

But I wasn't going to wait for them to finish. I needed answers now.

I knocked on the door as loud as I could, but there was no immediate response, so I pounded on it a bit more until the doctor finally opened the door. Just a crack, though – he only stuck his head out.

"Excuse me, son, but I'm operating right now. I understand that this is tough on you – it's tough on everyone – but it would be helpful if you could please wait patiently outside."

"I heard you couldn't help him, so why try?"

The doctor narrowed his eyes.

"What's your name, son?"

"I'm Peter Parker, let me in."

"Peter.... My son's named Peter.... Please, Peter.... Whatever it is, I'll get to you in a minute...."

"It can't wait a minute! Let me in!"

"Please, Peter...." He sighed. "What is it, Peter?"

"Let me in, I need to see Spider-Man."

"Why's that?"

"I need to see Spider-Man, let me in."

"Peter.... I'm afraid I can't do that.... He's ill.... He needs rest...."

"Let me in."

"Peter, please.... Are you his friend....? Do you know who he is....? Peter, please...."

"No, no, just let me in."

"Peter, I'm sorry, but I can't allow everyone to just walk in on this man.... He is a man, Peter, and he needs rest.... He needs privacy...."

"Let me in!"

"Peter, there's a reason he wears the mask.... Please, try to understand...."

"Let me in!"

"Peter, please, I –"

"That isn't Spider-Man! I am!"

The doctor was taken aback by this at first.

"Peter, now, you know that's not true...."

"One month ago, I stole this formula thing from Norman Osborne!"

"Peter, I.... Norman Osborne? One month? It was longer than –"

"My uncle was killed 'cause everyone was afraid to help him out against a burglar!"

"I'm sorry to hear that Peter, but...."

"I inject myself with the formula every night and I turn into Spider-Man and I save people!"

"But, Peter.... You just can't be –"

"Even the Green Goblin himself knows I'm Spider-Man! He says my name!"

"Peter, I.... Are you sure you're not misinterpreting....?"

"I made web-shooters and everything!"

"Web-shooters....? Spider-Man never had –"

"My girlfriend was killed by the Green Goblin! She was thrown off a bridge!"

"A bridge....? Gwen Stacy....? You –"

"Whoever's in there isn't Spider-Man! I'm Spider-Man! What the hell is going on here, doctor? I came here for answers! Now! Give! Me! Answers!"

There was awkward silence again. So silent I could hear my own deep breaths and fast heartbeat. I could hear the ticking of the doctor's watch. I could hear the prolonged hum of the machinery inside. But I couldn't hear my thoughts.

"YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME! FINE THEN! I'LL SHOW YOU!"

Before he could even react, I reached into my inside pocket and pulled out the syringe and shot myself with that steamy green formula.

But this time, there was no flash of colors. There was no flash of red and blue. There was no flash of green.

This time, there was only a slow fade to black.