Author's Note: Sorry taking so long to post chapter 6. The site was giving me grief in editing my stories. But at any rate, here's chapter 7. Enjoy!

Chapter 7: Shadows and Light

Days went by in a monotonous fashion after Peter's battles with Scorpion and Hobgoblin. He couldn't do anything with himself. After his apartment was repaired, Peter just spent his days there alone, unable to eat, sleep, speak, or cry.

Mary Jane's funeral was the worst day of his life. There wasn't any other way to describe it. He was too young to remember his parent's deaths or even understand why they had died, his uncle he had his aunt and Gwen, and as for Gwen herself…for Peter, Mary Jane's death eclipsed even that. Mary Jane's death now hung over his head and left a hole inside of him the same way that Gwen's had. Two lovers dead, and now their deaths, his greatest failures, began to merge into one great tragedy in his mind. It seemed no one who loved him was safe.

Everyone had shown up for the funeral. Well, not quite everyone. None of Peter's fellow superheroes came except for Matt and Felicia, since Peter Parker had no connection to the Avengers, Fantastic Four, and X-Men. Just Spider-Man. And it wasn't Spider-Man who was in mourning.

Its Peter Parker whose in mourning. Peter thought bitterly. A widower because of Spider-Man. He took my wife from me…

Mary Jane had been everything to him. Her happiness, her warm smile, her incomparable beauty…everything about Mary Jane was perfect. She had been too good for him. And as Scorpion had shown, too good for the world she lived in.

Peter felt that it was such a sick joke. Here he was, out fighting the good fight, battling super-powered criminals so no one would die the way his uncle had. He was doing good by his uncle, living up to the "With great power came great responsibility" philosophy that had driven him ever since his uncle's murder, but in so doing, he wasn't there for his fiancée when she needed him the most. He had failed another person he loved, and because he was pointlessly trying to honor another. It was never enough. No matter how much he struggled, no matter how much he tried to make it right and save the day, it was never enough. He always let someone down. He always failed someone…

Well, Mary Jane was going to be the end of it. He would never let another loved one down again. As it was, the only family he had left now was his elderly aunt. The salt of the Earth. And there was no way he would lose her too. Not this last person who still loved him.

After the funeral, Peter was approached by Harry, who had been dead silent the entire funeral. Peter could see on his face and in his lack of movements just how empty Mary Jane's death had left him. Well, Harry had been sweet on her once upon a time, and Peter suspected now that he had never fully lost his attraction to her, even after becoming a married man…

"I just can't believe that this happened…" Harry said solemnly. "I mean one minute she was talking casually with Liz about starring in a play, the next…"

Harry trailed off. His voice sounded hollow, and his eyes looked empty. His shoulders drooped, and Peter could see how Mary Jane's death had shook him as deeply as it had Peters…

Finally, Harry let out a sigh and said to Peter: "Look Peter, just know that…if you need anything…you always have your best friend to turn too alright?"

Peter nodded solemnly without a word. He wasn't going to ask anything of his old friend, not when he had clearly been hit so hard by this too. And besides, he didn't want much anymore. There was hardly anything left for him in the world now…

Peter stayed with his aunt back in Queens until his apartment was repaired. She, like Peter was hit hard by Mary Jane's death, though she did her best to try and ease her nephew's pain. It didn't help. Nothing did. Nothing erased the sadness, the grief, the anger, and above all, the guilt.

One day, his aunt approached him and told him to sit down, and that they had to talk.

"Peter…I've been watching you, and I haven't said anything about this until now because I didn't want to come off as trying to suppress your grief, but you must understand…none of this was your fault."

"Your right Aunt May. It wasn't my fault…it was Spider-Man's."

"It wasn't his fault either" Aunt May responded, her tone growing slightly harsher, as well as harder. "It was not Spider-Man's fault. Spider-Man was doing his job, he was protecting the innocent and stopping criminals like the Vulture and Carnage. He was being a hero."

"Then why wasn't he there for his own wife? Why wasn't he there when his wife was killed? Or when Gwen was killed? Or when…"

Peter broke off at that moment. He could see Aunt May fighting back the tears already, and not because Peter had raised his voice either.

"Oh my G-d…I'm sorry Aunt May. I…I didn't mean to open up old wounds…"

"I know Peter, I know…he's forgiven you"

Peter lowered his head solemnly.

"Well I can't forgive myself"

That night, before he was to return to his apartment, Peter lit a fire in an oil barrel and set his old red and blue costume ablaze. And on that small pyre, he made a promise: Spider-Man no more. Spider-Man was no more…

-X-

Weeks passed, and the whole of New York City did not see or hear of Spider-Man in all that time. And parts of the city couldn't help but be perplexed, and also a little sobered. Though he was just one of many superheroes, Spider-Man was easily the most recognizable one who had been solo for so long. Of those who were known as "street-level superheroes", Spider-Man was the one everyone knew. The only one who wasn't still considered an urban legend. And despite Jameson's best efforts, some people did appreciate his presence. A man who had saved so many of them and never asked for anything in return. And people wondered: where was he now?

Even the criminal element couldn't help but wonder where their red-and-blue foe had gone off too. As a couple of thugs were handling some shipped drugs, one of them asked the question that had already been asked dozens of times before:

"So where do you think Spider-Man ran off to?"

"He's at home washing his tights" One of the other thugs replied sarcastically, before following it up by saying venomously: "How the hell should I know? He's gone, and I hope he never comes back. Punk can go die in a ditch for all I care"

An eerie voice cut through the darkness at that moment.

"Ooh, ouch. That was rude. Of course, to be fair, I share your sentiments…"

The panicked thugs turned to face the source of the voice only to see nothing but pitch black darkness. Suddenly, out of the shadows came several black tendrils that disarmed the thugs of their respective guns and tossed them aside. Before the thugs could make heads or tails of what was going on, Venom leaped out of the shadows and in a quick and brutal series of blows, took down and webbed up the whole lot of thugs. As he ran off into the night once more, Venom beamed with pride at his victory.

"Ah…with the accursed Spider gone we can now be a Lethal Protector for the entire city! So perfect…"

-X-

Another day went by without an ounce of meaning. Peter knew subconsciously that he was growing tired of purposefully misspending his days, but what else was there for him? Since MJ's death, JJ had finally shown some human decency and let him take a leave of absence from his work until he was ready to return. As it was, Peter couldn't think of anything else to do with his life. Friends had come and gone, offering condolences, but beyond that, Peter just spent his days in isolation. Not a healthy thing, and Peter knew it. Really, he should be seeing a therapist. One or two friends had recommended that, and as Peter watched the sun go down and another day of sorrow went by, he decided that maybe he should do that. So the next day, he sought out a psychiatrist.

Bart Hamilton1 was his name. He was a man of average height with brown hair and a beard. Peter went to him and Hamilton agreed to start seeing him. And so in the following days, Peter went to Hamilton and did his best to vent his sadness and grief and hope that Hamilton could do something for him. One day, Hamilton told him that he had to leave for one moment and told Peter to wait for him. As Peter lay there on the couch he felt his spider-sense go off, but only slightly. Turning his head to one side, he looked out the window, and could see, in the distance, a fire. Peter shook his head and turned away. Finally, Hamilton came back, and the session resumed. After it was finished, Peter walked back to his apartment, hearing the wailing of Firefighter trucks as he did so. Peter chose to ignore it and kept walking.

Not my problem. He thought. Not my problem…

He'd said that once before. A long time ago…

-X-

"Hey, somebody stop that guy!"

He was a weasely man, with a rough-looking face, running towards him. A cop was running after him…

And he just stepped aside. The man ran past him, into the elevator, and the door closed…the man smiled at him. Not a mocking smile, or a cruel smile, but a thankful one. He had, after all, let him escape.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" The officer demanded. "You let him go!"

"Not my problem" he had said. "Not my problem…"

There was a gunshot. His uncle dead, a hole in his chest…his arms were at his killer's throat, his eyes seeing the face…

His.

"You did this…you didn't do the right thing."

Peter awoke in a cold sweat. It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. But it was also him remembering the day he let his uncle's future killer run right past him. Why? Why had he done that? Another stupid decision in a lifetime full of them. For a moment though, his uncle's words of wisdom rang in his ears once again:

With Great Power, comes great responsibility

No. He had forsaken that. Those words were what had killed the woman he loved. He wouldn't listen to them ever again. It wasn't his responsibility anymore…

He heard a scream. A loud scream. He looked out the window. A woman was being dragged into a nearby alley by two men who Peter identified as Yancy Street Gang members. He saw the woman try and tear herself free from one of the hoodlum's grip, but he remained firm. Peter was seeing this all unfold, wondering why no one else was seeing it, or was trying to stop those men…

Peter shook his head. No, he couldn't let this happen…he couldn't have that on his conscience too…swearing to himself, Peter leaped out the window…

-X-

The woman continued to struggle fiercely against the two thugs but it was no use. She kicked one as hard as she could but it did no good. It just made the man angrier. He took out a stiletto, and with a snap, out came the blade…

Before the thug could come any closer, he was yanked into the air, screaming in terror before being slammed into the wall and punched out by a figure hidden by the shadows. Before the second thug could even react, he was blinded by webbing to the eyes. As he screamed and yelled obscenities, the woman watched as the shadowed figure descended on the second thug and delivered several brutal kicks and punches to the man.

The woman stared at her silhouetted savior in silent awe. As he rose fully, she finally said, nervously:

"Spider-Man…? Is that you?"

Spider-Man turned a little, but then looked back away. He still had a secret identity after all. Without a word, he scaled the wall and disappeared. He returned to his apartment and sat down on his bed, deep in thought. He'd done it again. He hadn't planned on it, but he'd just played hero again. He couldn't believe himself. But he realized: he couldn't help himself. If he could re-do those last few moments, he would have acted in exactly the same way. There was no denying it. He couldn't stop. He couldn't just stand by and watch it happen. His uncle's words rang in his ears once more…

With great power comes great responsibility

-X-

The calm and quiet New York day was turned into a chaotic panic when a certain quartet of supervillains began smashing their way through anything and everything in their path.

"Outta the way punks! The Wrecking Crew2's looking to make a good score here!"

And indeed, people fled in terror as the aptly-named Wrecker swung his magically-enhanced crowbar left and right, smashing cars, tearing out parts of buildings, and swatting away anyone unfortunate enough to remain in his path. Simultaneously, the other three members of the Wrecking Crew, Thunderball, Piledriver, and Bulldozer, also engaged in various forms of destruction.

Finally, they arrived at their destinations, and brutally smashed the bank apart piece by piece before helping themselves to piles of loot. Wrecker beamed with pride as he and his team walked away from the carnage rich.

"This is great! With the Avengers reeling from that crap with Latveria a few weeks ago, we got free reign in this city! Anything we want!"

"Don't kid yourself."

"Huh?"

A mess of webbing struck Bulldozer in the face, bringing him to his knees as he attempted to tear it off. The other three members of the Wrecking Crew looked up in surprise and awe, as a familiar agile figure clad in a black costume with a white spider logo sat perched on a nearby lamppost.

Before any of the Wrecking Crew could react, the Amazing Spider-Man was at them with superhuman agility, bouncing off of Thunderball and Piledriver with ease before then going after Wrecker, kicking him in the face as he simultaneously disarmed of his crowbar. And within mere moments, the leader of the Wrecking Crew was down and out.

"Amazing…"

Spider-Man launched himself at Thunderball, kicking him back as he did so.

"Spectacular"

Now only Piledriver remained. Spider-Man moved out of the way as Piledriver came down on him with all of the strength he could muster. Piledriver quickly recovered and ran at Spider-Man with the force of a freight train. Standing his ground, Spider-Man fired some webbing at Piledriver's face, blinding him as he had done to Bulldozer. Leaping above the still-charging Piledriver, Spider-Man tripped him with a sweeping kick and delivered the knock-out punch.

The crowd stood in awe as Spider-Man stood there triumphant. Their hero was back.

-X-

Ryan stood there as the Hobgoblin, his mask on the floor and his true face hidden by the shadows, read the latest Daily Bugle headline: "Spider-Man is Back."

"So our little arachnid has decided to come out and play again. Perfect. Just perfect. He'll realize soon enough what a fool he was. Should have stayed hidden. But now he won't live to regret it…"

"Yeah, sure. We'll get the last laugh when all is said and done."

"Indeed. That will be all Ryan"

And so Ryan left the room Hobgoblin was in, and staggered a little bit as he did so. He had been feeling odd ever since his scuffle with Venom, and it wasn't physical injuries either. He hoped that the freak hadn't infected him with something…

-X-

He swung through the city with the same skill and grace he always had, but without the joy and thrill he used to possess. That was the way it was now. No more games, no more antics. Just the naked simplicity of doing what he had to do. Because there was only Spider-Man. Spider-Man was all that was left. It was all he had left. So he would embrace it. But the joy, the thrill, and the happiness, were gone. All of it as dead as everything else he had lost in his life.

Finally, he arrived at his destination: Spector Tower. Home of Marc Spector, and as Spider-Man knew, a little more…

He could see who was there: Matt, Felicia, Moon Knight, and the Black Widow. Small group, and no one he wasn't well acquainted with. He would manage. He dropped down, making his presence known to the four street-level heroes.

"Hello. I hear you guys are a team now. I want to join"

Author's Note: For those wondering…

Bart Hamilton is an actual Marvel character who was Harry Osborn's psychiatrist. When Harry became the second Green Goblin, he was actually able to get Hamilton to become his fall-guy, and Hamilton died in action as a fake Green Goblin

The Wrecking Crew are really a team of Thor/Avengers villains who first appeared in Defenders Issue 17. But they have appeared once each in both Spectacular Spider-Man and Amazing Spider-Man as well, so Spidey has fought them before in mainstream continuity. They were given their super strength and durability when they were all simultaneously struck by lightning while all holding Wrecker's crowbar