I Will Rescue You- Plus One

When your days are dark
And your nights are cold
When you've just about
Lost all your faith
When your will is gone
And your heart is torn
'Cause nothing is going your way
When the world has
Got you trapped
And you can't find that open door
If you're ever in a battle
And you just can't fight no more I will rescue you
I will rescue you
I will shelter you from the rain
I will dry your tears
Cast away your fears
And bring you to brighter days
Whenever you're lost and confused
Like a fairy tale come true
I will rescue you If you ever feel
That you can't go on
When your life just
Becomes too hard
And the dreams you thought
Were within your reach
Suddenly seem so far
When the world is on your case
And you don't have
A place to run
If the storm keeps getting stronger
And you cannot see the sun I will rescue you
I will rescue you
I will shelter you from the rain
I will dry your tears
Cast away your fears
And bring you to brighter days
Whenever you're lost and confused
Like a fairy tale come true
I will rescue you And it don't matter where you are
I'll be by your side
I'll be the rock that you can lean on
I'll be your guide I will rescue you
I will rescue you
I will shelter you from the rain
I will dry your tears
Cast away your fears
And bring you to brighter days
Whenever you're lost and confused
Like a fairy tale come true
I will rescue you

Then his eyes shot open and he gasped for air, forcing his arm to lift his mask over his nose. Cold air rushed against his warm face and filled his lungs with fresh air. He gasped it in deeply, his mind slightly clearing.

He would not let down the ones he loved. He couldn't leave Aunt May alone and defenseless and he would not allow MJ to cry any more tears over him. With new resolve he got his wobbly legs under him and stood, before stumbling into the brick building of the alley.

His body was still suffering uncontrollable muscle spasms and the urge to faint once again overwhelmed him.

He stumbled alongside the brick wall out onto the sidewalk.

Before he could collapse to the ground again he threw his arm up and shot a web line to a tall building. He leapt up with all that was left of his tattered strength.

It was enough to launch him in the air and he swung into the night. Webslinging would be extremely difficult with one arm but he had to manage. He would let go at the peak of his swings and freefall, allowing his spider sense to gage how close to plummeting to his death he was before shooting another strand of webbing to another building.

Lucky for him, his apartment was not far off. There was not much more his body could take. Forcing himself to go on, he managed to make it all the way to his building, free falling off his last web string onto his balcony. He tumbled into the concrete like a heap of household garbage tossed to the curb for morning pickup.

He let out a sigh of relief, despite the pain still coursing through his body. The heavy landing had only intensified the pain where he hadn't gone numb yet. His body cried out, wanting to move no further. Yet, he had to keep moving. If Harry or Aunt May happened to stop by tomorrow, there would be no explaining his way out of this. Harry probably wouldn't even wait for an explanation, he would kill him. He was having enough trouble trying to think of a way to explain this if the use of his arm never came back.

This all, of course, was if he lived. Given his current status that was looking rather bleak for Peter and his alter ego.

If it wasn't for his spider powers, he would more than likely be dead already. It was a miracle he had made it this far. Though the convulsions seemed to lessen, they were still quite prominent.

He lifted his head as high as he could muster looking for the handle to his balcony doors. He reached up for it, fingers shaking. It seemed a million miles away when in retrospect it was scant inches from his fingertips. All he had to do was stretch and he would be in the clear. He could get inside and into the bed. Even the latter of that seemed a luxury too far from his reach.

MJ sighed, flipping channels on the T.V. using the remote control. She checked the digital clock in the corner of the room, glaring at it with disagreement. It was well after midnight and she still hadn't heard from Peter.

She had given up waiting by her phone well over three hours ago. She got too nervous to sit still and she felt helpless. So she had decided to jump into action and made her way to Aunt May's home in Queens. Once there she pleaded with the elder woman to let her borrow the spare key to Peter's apartment he had given May. Aunt May relented easily, but wondered what MJ was up to. MJ left her wondering with the promise to tell her later as she rushed back to the nearest train station. From the train, she jogged the few blocks to his building and grumbled with annoyance once she arrived in his lobby. A note displaying the elevator was out of order hung on the doors of the elevator. She took a deep breath and had plunged forward up the nine flights of steps.

She arrived at Peter's door. At that point she was heaving, sweating and her feet ached. She pounded on his door, wondering if he was home yet. Giving him only scant seconds to answer, she put the key in the lock and swung the door open.

It took just a moment to decipher there was no one home. From the moment she barged in the apartment rank of stillness and emptiness.

So here she was, hours later waiting and waiting. And still waiting. Now it was past midnight and she was staring at a late night T.V. program paying it no mind as she wondered where Peter was.

She threw down the remote and stood, impatiently deciding to look out the window another time. The late NY view seemed quiet enough, but who knew what was happening all over the city. Another groan of impatience escaped and she threw the curtain back in place. Maybe I should go look for him? But where? Even if I did find him, what could I do?

A loud thump interrupted her thoughts and sounded over the T.V. causing her to practically jump out of her skin. After she got over the initial shock, her mind churned into motion. "Peter!" she cried, making her way to the steps. She took them two at a time and burst into his bedroom nearly tripping over the clothes strewn about the floor. She looked around in disappointment when there was no sign of him.

Her shoulders slumped, deflated. She knew she heard something. A cold chill came over her and she hugged herself despite the heat turned up in the room. Chill out, MJ. No reason to get the willys. she told herself. Yet, the cold did not go away.

She turned about the room and noticed one of the balcony doors was cracked open. No wonder she felt a chill. She walked over to close the door shut and it bounced back at her when she pushed it. Looking down to see what caused the blockage she gasped in terrible fright. "Peter!" she cried out distressfully.

A red, webbed pattern hand lay in the door's path. She swung open the door fully and collapsed to her knees beside Peter's body.

"Peter, what happened?" she touched his still shoulder, unsure whether or not he was conscious, or alive for that matter.

Her heart clenched when no answer came. She could find no physical damage on him, but he was also laying face down. She shook him gently, trying to stir him. "Peter!" Still not receiving a response, she attempted to turn him over, afraid he has been shot or fatally wounded. Somehow, he had made it back here before he passed out. That gave her little comfort.

She managed to turn him onto his back as gently as she could muster on her own. She pulled the mask up from his neck, a sense of deja-vu coming over her as she rested it at the bridge of his nose. She stopped momentarily in remembrance of that wonderful night in the rain. Then she pulled the mask off completely letting it fall to the ground as she cradled his head in her lap.

Once she was sure he was breathing, she looked him over for any wounds. It was dark and hard to tell, and it was cold. However his skin seemed to be burning. Beads of sweat trickled down his brow and his face was frozen in a distraught, painful pose despite his unconscious form. His breath was labored and he seemed to struggle for each breath of air.

Her own breath became labored in fear as well as uncertainty. "Peter, please wake up. I don't know what to do. I don't know what's wrong." she pleaded. She bit her lip, mind going at a million miles a minute. She couldn't take him to the hospital. What if they ran tests on him? What if this is a reaction to something that made him Spider-Man? She didn't have any answers because he never did share with her how he got such incredible powers. She could only hope now his powers could help him survive whatever was happening to him.

She studied his boyish face, running her fingers over his burning cheek. A large bruise welted his skin just beside his lips. "Pete, please wake up. I don't know how to help. Please." she stroked his skin, hoping to invoke some response.

She shivered despite the warmth of Peter's body draped over her lap. She looked up noticing snowflakes beginning to fall from the night sky. She had to get Peter inside and under some layers to battle the fever. She looked around the balcony frantically. She tried to wake him up once more. "Peter, it's Mary Jane. Can you hear me? Please, wake up. We have to get you inside."

Still no reply.

"Ok, Mr. Parker. I see you are going to make things difficult as usual. C'mon, here we go," she lifted him off her lap and got to her feet.

She bit her lip observing him, contemplating how she could move him. She walked around his body to the top of his head, kneeled down and lifted under his arms. She grunted with the effort, taking a few steps back dragging him on his back. She got a few feet before stopping to catch herself from falling.

She took another deep breath and started to pull him again, his limp arms dragged on the ground, sticking to the floor like magnets. His shoulders were scant inches from the ground held in her tiny grasp as they entered the bedroom. "A little help here, Pete," she complained, pulling with all her might.

A groan of distinct pain rumbled in response.

She lost her grip, his head and shoulders hitting the hard-wood floor. "Oh God. Peter?" she gasped. She looked into his face, hoping she would see his eyes slide open.

He let out another groan that rumbled into a yelp of pain as she dropped him.

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry." She bit her lip in anger with her clumsiness.

His eyes were still closed and sweat dripped down his face. He seemed in a battle with himself to regain consciousness. He squinted his eyes, seeming in terrible pain.

"Peter," MJ called his name, placing a hand on his chest. She rubbed his chest, trying to wake him. She looked at him closely, hoping his baby blues would pop open any minute. She reached up to brush her hair from her face when she noticed her hand was red. Her eyes widened in shock as she noticed her hand was covered in blood. "Oh, Peter…" she whimpered, finally noticing his shoulder was stained a darker red than his suit. It was stained red in blood.

He turned his head back and forth, fighting the pain, his face contorting. He groaned and whimpered.

"Peter, help me, please…" MJ begged, afraid to lift him from his shoulders again. "We have to get you into the bed." she looked around the room, wondering how she would do just that. She stood up to close the balcony doors, shutting off the cold air then returned to his side. "Peter, help me, please, help me!" she shook him lightly.

"Mary… Jane…" he muttered in obvious pain, turning his head to her voice.

"Open your eyes, tiger. I need you to help me…" she kept talking, praying she was finally getting through.

"Wh- what's wrong? MJ…" his voice changed from pain to panic and he thrashed a bit, confused as to why his senses were so out of his control.

"Easy, tiger," she placed a hand on his chest, trying to stop his thrashing. "I'm ok. You're hurt, though. I don't know what's wrong." His body was shaking uncontrollably and he let out a loud cry.

"Poi-poi-poison…" he spit out, his lips numb, his entire body felt unlike his own. The pain was excruciating aside from what was not numb. He forced his eyes open and saw a blurred vision of his angel aside him. Her red hair flowed over her shoulders and he could barely make out her face, but he knew it was her. "She poisoned me."

"Who? What kind of poison? We have to get you to the hospital!" MJ tried to remain calm but seeing him in so much anguish was not making it the easiest task. She went to rise and call for help.

Peter managed to grab her wrist with his good arm. "No, no hos…hospital."

"But you could die!" MJ argued, looking at the wound from the corner of her eye. She bit her lip, worried she would be sick. What kind of poison… Her eyes lit up with realization and she chided herself for not realizing sooner. "Black Widow's venom…."

Peter shook his head, agreeing with her. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the pain.

"Ok, ok… if we can't take you to the hospital, I will just have to help you myself. First thing we need to do is get you in bed and under layers to fight the fever. Then I am going to go over our research and find out what I can do to help you. Don't worry Pete, I am going to take care of you." she smiled, reaching inside for the strength she would need to get them through this. "It's about time I saved your life."

Peter was fighting hard to remain conscious but the effort was too much, even for him.

"Oh no you don't," MJ shook him awake. "You got to get to your feet and in the bed. I cannot lift you up." she pulled at his other shoulder, into a haphazard sitting position. "On your feet. Just for a moment. You can do it." she encouraged, pulling him by his wrists.

Peter used whatever was left inside him to rise to his feet. He wavered and almost toppled over but MJ caught him.

"Ok, ok… I got you." she stumbled backwards. "I think…" MJ wrapped him in her arms and pushed him into the bed. She took a deep breath and pulled the blankets onto him. "Hope you got more than one of these suits, tiger." she examined his wound, then ripped the costume open to see the extent of the damage.

Blood was slowly oozing out of five holes. They were about the size of knife stab wounds. MJ winced hoping she could handle this.

"MJ… gonna be sick…." he gasped, his face as pale as the white sheets covering him.

"Shh…it'll be ok…" she stroked his wet forehead. She would have to do what she could to counteract the poison first, then treat his physical wounds later. "I'll be right back. I will get you something." she jogged off to the bathroom and grabbed the small garbage pail in there. She took time to grab whatever first aid he had in a small kit and a cool rag to place on his forehead. She returned quickly, putting the pail beside him. "It's probably best you get it out of your system." she placed the rag on his forehead.

He sat up instantly, heaving up fluids from his stomach.

MJ felt so helpless rubbing his back and hoping this was a good sign.

Once he was finished, he collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air.

"Will you be all right for a moment? I want to grab our research."

Peter responded in grunts and groans of pain, his body beginning to spasm again. He managed to look in her direction acknowledging her words.

"I will be right back, ok. Don't you go anywhere…" she whispered the words that held a double meaning as she stroked his cheek.

She took the stairs quickly, worried to leave him alone. She searched the living room for their research becoming anxious when she could find no sign of it. She tossed school textbooks and notepads and loose leaf paper everywhere.

It wasn't until there was a floor littered in papers that she realized the folder must have been hidden in one of his textbooks. MJ got to her hands and knees scouring the floor looking for all the articles they found on black widows. She tossed aside school notes that got mixed in with the research, paying it no mind for if she had she might've noticed the doodles of 'I heart MJ' written in the corner of jotted notes.

She was back up the stairs and at his side so quickly, it might have made The Flash jealous. She sat beside him on the bed, examining him for any change. "You still with me, tiger?"

He was still conscious and moving around uncontrollably. He looked over at MJ acknowledging her question, but unable to respond at first. "Present…." he muttered, teeth chattering as his body continued to shake.. Despite it all, he was starting to feel slightly less uncomfortable.

"Good." she gave a shaky smile, concerned for his life. "Now let's see if we can find a cure to what ails you. Doctor Watson is on the clock."

She opened the folder and organized the notes a moment before she started to read the information on the page.. "The black widow spider is notorious for its neurotoxic venom. It is a large widow spider found throughout the world and commonly associated with urban habitats or agricultural areas. Adult black widow spiders are shiny black with a reddish hourglass shape marking on the bottom of its abdomen. Female black widow spiders are about 1.5 inches with legs spread. Without its legs, they are about 0.5 inches. Male black widow spiders are half the size of the female, but with longer legs." she paused, getting impatient. "Blah, blah, this isn't helping…."

"Keep going…" Peter whispered.

"Black widow spiders live in temperate and tropical zones. They typically prey on a variety of insects, but occasionally they do feed upon wood lice, diplopods, chilopods and other arachnids."

Peter huffed indignantly.

MJ continued. "When the prey is entangled by the web, a black widow quickly come out of its retreat, wraps the prey securely in its strong web, then punctures and poisons its prey. How did she poison you?"

"Hands…fingertips like needles…" Peter answered in pauses, trying to take control of his system. "She carries the venom inside her. I don't know why it doesn't kill her. We need to-"

"I don't care why she doesn't get poisoned right now, Pete. We need to help you. That is more important." MJ scanned the page until her eyes rested on a paragraph that made her very uneasy. "Black widow venom is fifteen time more poisonous than a rattlesnake. It is the most dangerous and poisonous spider in the US. One bite of a female black widow spider can kill a human being." Tears immediately sprung from her eyes and she looked at Peter with more fear than she had ever felt in her whole life. She was more terrified of his death than the Green Goblin and falling from bridges could ever scare her. "Peter, please let me take you to the hospital. I cannot let you die."

"MJ, I can't. You know that. Don't worry so much. I'm not a regular human anymore. I can beat this with my spider strength. I'll be fine…." he trailed off, wishing he believed what he said more than he actually did.

She wanted to believe him too. She wanted to believe he would beat this just like everything else he had to face. But spider strength or not, he did not look well at all. "Peter-"

"Plus, she hit me with a lot more toxin than any normal person could handle. Anyone else would be dead by now. I'm still here," he cut her off, hating the look of terror in her eyes. "Keep reading."

She sighed, still not content but she listened to him anyway. "Though its venom is toxic, deaths from black widow bites are rare, only sixty-three having been reported in the United States between 1950 and 1959." she raised her brows. "Well, that's encouraging… I think." she paused. "Black widow spiders are notorious for its neurotoxic venom. Their venom contains the deadly neurotoxin, LTX. What's LTX?" she questioned, skimming the paragraph for an answer.

"Alpha-latrotoxin," he answered quickly.

She bit back a big grin and studied his clouded eyes. "You big nerd. So what does this LTX do to you?"

"I remember a little about it from my biology class last semester. LTX stimulates massive exocytosis of synaptic vesicles, leading to catastrophic effects on cardiovascular, neuromuscular and neurosecretory systems, due to the spider bite or in this case the poison running through her fingertips and into the sharp claws that pierced my skin." he flinched, feeling nauseated again. At least his mind was clearing up. One look at MJ told him she was going to remind him of that fact too.

"Ok… Wanna run that by me in lamens terms?" she sighed, wondering how his brain still functioned on the level of 'brilliant scientist.'

"Severe muscle contractions and spasms, which explains why I can't hold still," Peter explained. "It should only be inhabiting the area affected, my shoulder. But with the amount of toxins she pumped into me, it must be effecting my whole body. Like I said, any normal man would be dead from the moment of injection. She killed someone right in front of me, and I couldn't stop her. At first it was just my shoulder I couldn't control… But then I started losing control of my whole body. I passed out. I don't know how I even made it here…" he quieted down, seeing the worry deepen as he told her what he could remember happening.

"Well, I'm no doctor or scientist but there must be more to this than just what LTX affects…" she looked down at the papers and continued reading. "A bite can cause yellow fever, vomiting and other bad sickness. The effect of the black widow spider bite can range from slight skin irritations to death. The spider injects a toxin that, drop for drop is more toxic than rattlesnake venom. Since the toxicity of the bite is in proportion to body weight, small children are more vulnerable to a bite of the same dosage than an adult. Unless your entire body is pumped full of it… Then what?" she flipped the page to the final page with the last of the venom information. "Its venom contains neurotoxins that will affect an individual's nervous system. Some symptoms include muscular cramps, tremors, and irregular breathing that may result in convulsions and death with some victims. An anti-venom specific to black widows is available through most physicians. Therefore when dealing with spider bites take the spider with you to a physician." she slammed the paper on the bed. "See! Physician means doctor! Anti-venom means you need it."

"Not necessarily, MJ…" he gasped as pain assaulted his stomach and he balled up into the fetal position. He squeezed his eyes shut as his muscles contracted again.

"Peter!" she shouted.

"I'm O.K…" he breathed deeply, air depleting from his lungs. "It'll pass. My spider strength is fighting it off." Waves of nausea hit him again and he became restless and anxious.

MJ groaned, annoyed that she found no answers to help him. She sifted through the papers and found more information in a questionnaire with doctors and victims of bites. Doctors and many victims say the pain usually disappears rapidly and local muscular cramps are felt around every fifteen minutes to several hours after the bite, spreading and becoming more severe as time passes.

She looked up at Peter who just went from being calm and seemingly doing better back to the state she found him in out on the balcony. The contractions and spasms and heavy breathing seemed to worsen over the last few minutes. She looked back down at the research.

The venom grows weak, tremors develop, and the patient is restless. During this period, a feeble pulse, cold skin, labored breathing and speech, light stupor, and delirium may be noted. Convulsions and death may result with some victims, especially if no treatment is received. Five percent of all victims who go without anti-venom treatment are fatal.

MJ looked up and noted he had slipped back into unconsciousness and was wrestling with himself and his breathing grew loud and labored. She felt his abdomen and it was hard and rigid as the symptoms subscribed. She argued with herself to call 911. If they analyzed Peter's blood they could find something out about him being Spider-Man. They would lock him up and treat him like a damn lab rat. She couldn't let that happen, but she couldn't just sit here and watch him die. She had to do something! "Your spider strength may not be enough to help you this time, Peter. You may think its helping you fight the venom off but the venom is only weakening before it gets worse…"

She got up and ran about the apartment gathering the supplies she read about in the section of the questionnaire on early treatment of bites. She came back and he seemed to have calmed a bit. He must be in between convulsions and contractions, she thought. Now was the only time she would have to treat the wound effectively. She removed the top half of his torn costume. She had soaked a washcloth in soapy warm water and cleaned the puncture wounds as best she could. Then she put some antiseptic on from the first aid kit and put an ice pack over the wounds as the research informed her.

She studied his features looking for some sign of what to do next. He seemed in great pain and his face was etched in torment. It was quiet for some time before he began to scream out and MJ knew he was in the stages of delirium and certain death. She cried for a moment unsure what to do as Peter screamed out many things, calling for his Uncle Ben, to Harry and Norman, Aunt May and even her name. It was then that she lost all her nerve and sobbed heavily sure she was going to lose him. It was also in that one moment that she realized she would never let that happen. A moment of great clarity came over her like a miracle and she suddenly knew who could help.