Bad Dreams-Keane
Why do I have to fly
Over every town up and down the line?
I'll die in the clouds above
And you that I defend, I do not love
I wake up, it's a bad dream
No one on my side
I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
To be fighting
Guess I'm not the fighting kind
Where will I meet my fate?
Baby I'm a man, I was born to hate
And when will I meet my end?
In a better time you could be my friend
I wake up, it's a bad dream
No one on my side
I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
To be fighting
Guess I'm not the fighting kind
Wouldn't mind it
If you were by my side
But you're long gone
Yeah you're long gone now
Where do we go?
I don't even know
My strange old face
And I'm thinking about those days
And I'm thinking about those days
I wake up, it's a bad dream
No one on my side
I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
To be fighting
Guess I'm not the fighting kind
Wouldn't mind it
If you were by my side
But you're long gone
Yeah you're long gone now
His eyes were closed tightly as he saw flashes of visions play out before him. All to quickly they flashed before him like a brightly colored kaleidoscope turning too fast. Then the world turned black as pitch. He started to thrash about losing the battle with reality. It felt like he was trapped within a wind tunnel, being sucked deeper and deeper into the turbine blades churning under him. The further he fell, the darker the world got until he could see nothing. His terror doubled due to the blindness that the lack of light caused on top of the chopping sound of the fan's movements growing closer and closer…
He reached for the walls, blindingly hoping his ability to stick to them would overpower the suction the fan created and stop his plummeting death. His fingertips touched nothing but air. Just when he thought this couldn't get any worse, an even more terrifying sound than that of the whooshing turbine fan overpowered all else.
An all too familiar cackle bounced off the walls ringing throughout the darkness.
Peter tumbled pitching head over heels reaching for the walls salvation, and screamed over the laughing as he brought his hands in to cover his ears. The laughing did not cease as if it was born inside his mind and echoed there, untouched. He thought briefly about how being chopped into minced meat would be a better fate than facing that voice again.
Unfortunately and as expected, the choice was not his and his sudden descent came to an even more abrupt halt. His body collided with what he assumed to be a wooden floor. Wood boards splintered and shattered like frail bones upon impact. A small hole was formed where he now lay and he was momentarily still, having expected the impact to take a lot more out of him than it did. He curled up in a fetal position, pain assaulting him nonetheless.
Slowly he gathered himself together, getting to his feet. The fractured floor was only a few feet up from the hole his fall created. He hesitated in fear. He could imagine the Goblin standing at the top, cackling in all his glory. His spider sense was dormant, telling him he was just being a coward and had an overactive imagination.
He climbed up into the dark room, immediately wondering where he was, not to mention what the hell was going on. How did he get here? There wasn't much he could make out. If not for the faded, dim light seeming to come from the outside of wherever he was, the room was black as pitch. However, the light from outside was not brilliant enough to be daylight. Perhaps it came from a street lamp or factory lighting.
He had no more time to ponder any of these thoughts, his spider sense went off like a school bell in his head. He could feel an intense heat at his back. The room was now filled with glowing light and Peter knew without question what was setting off his spider sense. He fell to the floor as if a bomb had come hurtling at him, but worse… The Goblin perched upon his glider zoomed overhead, tearing across the room as the jets of his glider left behind streams of flames.
Peter gazed up, watching the glider zip around giving off a glow in the dark from the jet boosters. The faint light told Peter the room was bigger than he anticipated. From what he could see the room looked familiar, but he was on his feet and leaping before he had time to look any further.
His heart pounded heavily, almost drowning out the Goblin's insane giggles. He turned, seeing his metallic green form hovering far across the room. The light from the cracks in the building and dirty windows bathed him in an eerie glow, making him appear to look like a spirit or entity. With that thought it dawned on him that that was exactly what Gobby should be! Dead!
"That's right, Parker!" his insane laughing finally ceased so he may speak. "You killed me."
He shook his head arguably, as if the Goblin could see in the shadows. He backed into a wall, feeling his way around in the dark.
"Don't hide. There's nowhere to hide!" Goblin screeched, suddenly appearing at his side, his yellow eyes glowing demonically.
Peter gasped, not sure why his spider sense failed him. Then he was flying across the room after receiving a punch to the jaw. He slid across the floor on his back, coming to a painful stop. He shook his head clear and leapt to his feet. "You can't be real, Goblin!" he muttered painfully.
More laughter. "Anything can happen here, Parker!"
Now he was behind him.
"Or maybe I am a ghost!"
Peter turned sharply, throwing a fist into the Goblin's face. He was gone before it landed. "Where the hell is here, exactly?"
"Or maybe I am alive. Inside you!" Gobby's laughter grew louder , echoing off the walls.
"No, Goblin!" he growled, flickers of anger burning inside him.
"Yesss!" he hissed. "Feel the anger, embrace the hate inside you!"
"No!" Peter dispelled it quickly, searching the room for the voice of insanity. He did not look hard.
Gobby was coming at him full force on his glider, eyes aglow.
This time he leapt at him, landing atop the glider. He landed a few punches into the mask before he realized they weren't making a connection.
"Oh Peter. Poor boy," Gobby cooed, disappearing from the air, and reappearing on his feet, standing in the fluorescent orange light.
Peter tumbled from the air to the ground. He was so confused. He was rooted to his spot, back to the floor. How did he keep disappearing?
"You seem a bit lost, my boy. Don't worry, just keep your eyes on me if you can," he was gone again.
Peter spun in a circle, wondering when this madness would end. He was sorry he asked.
Goblin faces appeared all around him, circling him and laughing wildly at him. "Wherever you go, whatever you do, whenever you look over your shoulder, we'll be there! You will never be rid of us!" they chanted in unison, spinning faster.
Peter shook his head, wondering at what point it was that he had gone completely insane. He covered his ears, flinching at the voice. Every way he turned, there was the Goblin, taunting him, daring him with his evil yellow eyes. They were growing closer and closing in on him like a caged animal. When he could take no more, he shot a web strand to the far up ceiling.
Peter wound his way around the ceiling, weaving his way out and around the pipes and beams attempting to escape the Goblin faces. He turned around and sighed in relief, finding they were gone. He looked down trying to determine where he was. Given the décor, it seemed to be an abandoned building of some sort. A chill rocked him, being reminded of the abandoned warehouse where he had chased Uncle Ben's killer to. The wall's seemed to grow all too familiar now, and he felt his throat grow dry. It couldn't be… If only there was more light.
He looked back up where he was hanging from and let go of the ceiling in complete surprise. The very wits were scared out of him as he found himself plunging for the concrete ground, finding the Goblin residing in the spot he just occupied a moment ago. He hit the floor in a heap, head bouncing off the concrete, the wind knocked out of him for a second time and stars swarmed around him.
He lay still, stunned and dazed, unable to catch his breath. His body vibrated as the Goblin's laughter got louder and louder, the room beginning to shake. He wasn't sure how much more his aching head could take. His whole body continued to shake as if he was clinging to a runaway cement drill.
Thankfully, the insane laughter finally silenced and Peter breathed a short sigh of relief. The room was still shaking as if the Hulk had wrapped his arm's around it and shook it like a magic 8-ball. He staggered to his feet, eyes searching the room wildly. The failure of his spider sense had him worried an attack was ever present.
And his paranoia proved positive. A loud snort and a stomp was all the warning he needed to evacuate his current position.
He rolled away, feeling the wind blow by him as the huge force he'd come to know as the Rhino thundered by, crashing into the wall, cement crumbling on impact.
Peter stood up, wobbling and nearly falling over again. He hunched over, leaning his arms against his legs to keep from collapsing. He looked over at Rhino, not sure he had anything left to take down the big beast. "Just what is your problem, anyway? Are you still angry they replaced you with the penguins in animal crackers?"
Rhino turned around, heavy breaths making his massive chest rise and fall in time with the building's crumbling under his heavy footfall. "You think your funny, dontcha? I'm gonna squish you to the floor little bug man!"
Peter used what was left of his strength to zipline up to the ceiling and avoided Rhino's second stampede and collision into another wall.
As the brick's crumbled, light poured in from the outside world, illuminating the room more. Rhino continued to stampede about trashing the room in his frustration, unable to reach Spider-Man high above. Rhino collided into another wall, causing the lights to flicker, the electricity failing.
The room, which grew dark also grew deadly silent. Suddenly, the lights came on full stream and Peter came down from his hiding spot, stunned as his eyes took in his surroundings. The once dark, unnamable warehouse became the place of his most horrified memories. A place he had hoped never to see again, the sight of the worst night he would ever experience in his entire life. It was the warehouse he had chased Uncle Ben's killer to.
His shoulders sunk and tears erupted instantaneously. He collapsed to the floor, ashamed, unnerved.
"Peter,"
He was stilled, back shooting ramrod straight. He felt fear encircle him.
"Peter, turn around."
Peter squeezed his eyes shut, pulling his knees in and hugging them close like a little boy who was afraid the boogeyman was creeping up behind him. Only, it was worse. He knew that voice. The source of all his sorrow, all his regret. The reason for his ultimate, unwavering mental defeat, which would always remain a more drastic impact than any physical damage any villain or any one person could bestow upon him. Nothing anyone could do to him could reduce him to the simpering, fearful, shamed mess of a human being he became at the sound of that voice.
Harry finding out he was the murderer of his father did not scare him nearly as much as facing this. The only thing nearly as frightening was the forever emblazed image of MJ falling off the Brooklyn Bridge over and over again as he watched helplessly. Still, even that thought did not strike the wrath of fear he now felt. He wondered if it be less painful to be put to death at this moment than it would be to turn around. He half hoped Goblin and Rhino would come back to play instead.
"Peter, you can't ignore me."
Peter shook his head in disagreement, squeezing his eyes shut. "No, no…"
"Don't do this to me, son…"
"Haven't I done enough?" he replied, finally acknowledging the voice. He couldn't help himself.
"You sure have, Peter,"
Peter felt a bitterness inside at the agreeing tone the voice took. He felt like he was 6 years old again, getting scolded for stealing cookies out of the jar before dinner. "I'm sorry…"
"Oh, Peter.. Please look at me. It's been so long…"
Peter was fighting a battle within, desperately trying not to do as the voice commanded. He sunk his head into his lap, hiding the bright light shining from behind.
"I know what you have done Peter,"
Peter's tears dampened his mask and despite the pain his heaving caused, his cries turned to sobs. "I'm so sorry Uncle Ben."
"Peter, you have to stop hiding. You have to stop this all,"
The light was growing brighter and Peter could feel warmth getting closer.
"I can't stop. I have to make it up to you. I have to show you how sorry I am for letting you die,"
"Peter, no…"
Peter squeezed his eyes shut as the light was getting too intense to keep them open. "I will show you how sorry I am."
"Sorry? Is that all you can say? You're breaking my heart.."
Peter's head perked up as the voice turned softer, and feminine. "MJ?"
"God, Peter. I never expected this from you. Don't you think I deserve more than a 'sorry'?"
Peter turned around, squinting in the blinding light. He could make out MJ's haloed shapely figure and her bright red hair despite the overpowering light. "You deserve everything I can't give you."
MJ huffed. "All I want is your love."
"And all I want is for you to be safe. I'm so sorry, MJ. I can't give you what you need. I owe Uncle Ben. I can't be with you," Peter shook his head, wishing he would just die already to end all the misery he seemed to be causing everyone he loved.
"Just come back to me, Peter. Don't leave," MJ begged.
The light grew more intense and Peter shielded his eyes, looking away.
Earlier:
MJ left him in search of help, finding the portable phone downstairs and dialing a number quickly.
"Nurses station," an elderly woman's voice answered.
"Yes, I need to speak with Gina Lark immediately please," MJ rushed back up the stairs, afraid to leave Peter unattended.
"She is with a patient at the moment," the woman rattled off.
"Can you please tell her Mary Jane is on the phone; it's important," MJ pleaded, watching Peter thrash about just outside his doorway.
He screamed out, pain lacing his cry.
"If this is an emergency ma'am, you should hang up and dial 911," the woman suddenly sounded interested.
MJ's heart leapt in panic. "No! No, I just need to speak to Gina, please. That was my TV…" she explained lamely, stepping out into the hallway to drown out the screams.
"Hold, please." she sighed not hiding her annoyance.
MJ paced the hallway feeling as if an eternity had passed by three times.
"Mary Jane?" finally, Gina's voice said into the phone. "What's wrong? This better be important. I was with a patient."
"Gina, it's MJ." she declared, not paying mind to the fact that Gina knew it was her already. "I need your help and it's a big favor."
"MJ, what's wrong? You sound scared."
"Gina, I need you to do something for me and I realize it's going to be a lot to ask and you could get in a lot of trouble, but it means the world to me. Peter's in trouble. He needs medicine but I can't bring him to the hospital." MJ peered into the room to see if he was in the same state. His tossing had lessened and he was still, causing her to hold her breath until she saw the rise and fall of his chest.
"MJ, just call 911. What's happened? Why can't you bring him?"
"I told you, I can't answer your questions. It's something I can't tell you, but please, understand. Gina, he could die. Please say you'll help me." MJ begged, her voice cracking with emotion as she allowed the realm of possibility Peter's condition was presenting sink in.
"Mary Jane… this is serious isn't it?"
"Deadly serious." she answered sharply.
"What can I do?" Gina exhaled into the phone, showing her disagreement. Despite her feelings, she would help her friend.
"I need you to bring some things to his apartment. Remember, no one can know." MJ's heart sped up, hoping Gina's help would cure Peter.
"Trust me, no one will. I could lose my job for this…"
"Peter could die…" MJ replied, showing how serious the consequences were for her too. "Gina, we need some IV's of calcium chloride and black widow anti-venom…"
"He's been poisoned?" she cut in.
"Yes," MJ answered quickly.
"Was he attacked like the other people?"
"There's more?" MJ could not believe it.
"Three more brought in tonight. We just got a case of the anti-venom delivered here a few hours ago."
"So people are being treated?" MJ sighed, finding some relief with the news.
"No. They're all been brought in dead. We haven't used the anti-venom yet. MJ, you really should bring him in before it's too late."
"Gina, I can't. Just, please hurry…" MJ squeezed shut her eyes, trying to force away the vision of Peter's body being zipped up in a body bag while she and Aunt May wept uncontrollably.
"On my way then." she answered, hanging up quickly.
MJ turned off the phone, tossing it aimlessly to the floor and rushed back into Peter's room and by his side. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it tightly. "Hang on tiger, help is on the way."
When the doorbell rang later, MJ took the stairs so quickly that she nearly fell. She opened the door fast, greeted by the person who could save Peter's life. MJ allowed herself a small sigh of relief before she reached out to help Gina with the supplies she brought.
"I got stopped three times on my way out the door with this stuff. It's a miracle I made it out the door," Gina let out her own small sigh of relief as she hurried in the door, half afraid she'd been followed.
"I'm so grateful, thank you for bringing the anti-venom," MJ shut the door and led the way up the stairs.
"It wasn't even the anti-venom that was hard to sneak out. It was the painkillers- the morphine and the calcium gluconate, and the syringes that was hard to pocket. It's a good thing I used to come from the wrong side of the tracks," Gina huffed, following MJ up the stairs.
"I'm sorry it had to come to this Gina, but I am glad you trust me enough to believe me when I tell you that I couldn't bring Peter to the hospital. I wish I could explain more," MJ turned to smile gratefully at her roommate as they reached the top of the steps.
Gina returned the smile, knowing MJ would never keep something from her unless it was extremely private. "No explanation necessary. Just remember this when I'm short on rent."
MJ allowed a small hint of a smile to grace her worried features. "Peter's this way." she pointed to his door and took the steps to the door in big bounds.
She slid the door open and her eyes fell immediately to the object of her ultimate desires. He was currently calm but his state seemed no better than when she had first called Gina.
Gina walked in and set the equipment down and discarded her coat. Her hand went around to her neck and she set up her stethoscope not wasting anytime to examine him. She kneeled down beside him and checked his vitals.
MJ watched nervously as Gina held Peter's arm in her grasp as her fingertips felt the pulse at his wrist. She bit her lip, hoping she would not notice the somewhat significant marks on his skin from his web shooters. Thankfully, she seemed too distracted by his condition to take notice.
Gina looked up at her, worry evident on her face. "His pulse is weaker than I like and he seems to be struggling with breathing. I'd like to get some oxygen on him, but I didn't sneak a tank of O2 under my coat." she sighed, shaking her head. "He really belongs in a hospital, MJ."
MJ worried her bottom lip, unable to think of a good excuse for not bringing him, aside from the truth. Part of her contemplated telling Gina the truth, but she couldn't compromise Peter's secret or his trust.
"I know, I know," Gina could see the contemplation in her friend's eyes. She shook her head with a half grin as she removed the sheet from Peter's upper chest. She placed the stethoscope on his warm skin, listening for his heart again. She took a moment to appreciate how well toned his body seemed. Hadn't MJ always described Peter as a nerdy bookworm? Since when did they come in the well chiseled body form too?
"His condition is pretty far along based off the symptoms they described," MJ offered, feeling helpless as Gina prepared some small bottles and a syringe.
"How long has it been since his last muscle spasm attack?" Gina asked, setting down the needle.
"At least since I hung up with you," MJ answered unsure of the time frame, watching as Gina was removing the blanket from Peter to expose his abdomen. "What are you doing?" she panicked, seeing part of Peter's costume exposed to the light.
"Easy, MJ. I need to examine him. One of the affects of the venom is a rigid abdomen," Gina chuckled at her overprotective nature. Gina placed her hand on his stomach, once again taking appreciation of his well formed body. His abs were rock hard but not from their well defined form but because of the venom coursing through his body. Gina could not help but notice the blue and red trim around his lower waist. The material seemed trimmed with black in a webbed pattern. Gina looked up at MJ in surprise. "No wonder you were afraid to bring him to a hospital!"
MJ panicked, trying to think of an explanation as she knew what Gina saw. Her mouth formed an 'o' unable to speak.
Gina chuckled, covering Peter back up to his chest. "Don't worry MJ, I won't tell anyone about Peter's Spider-Man jammys." she felt his forehead, finding his temperature was slightly high.
MJ stood there a moment, dazed.
"I'm going to give him an injection of calcium gluconate to control the spasms and cramping. If that doesn't work we'll try a Methocarbomal injection, like Robaxin. Most patients respond to the calcium all right but I brought back up," Gina injected the needle into his arm carefully.
"What about the anti-venom?" MJ watched with concern, afraid Peter might have a jerk reaction to the pinch of the needle.
"Well, it is usually only used in severe cases, and I think this may qualify as one of those times, but I'd like to see how his body reacts to this first. The anti-venom is equine based. So there is a risk of serious allergic reaction that could be just as deadly as the actual poisoning was. In past years, injections of the calcium gluconate have used in replacement of the anti-venom due to the serum sickness. However, the calcium gluconate doesn't help with pain relief at all. Hence, the morpine," Gina lifted the small vial containing said drug.
MJ ingested the information with as much understanding as her mind would allow at the moment. She sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing back his hair. "Will he be all right, Gina?"
Gina hated to form an opinion this soon but she had a feeling she had gotten here in time. His muscle tenseness seemed to be easing already. She wondered if that had to do more with MJ's affectionate touch than it did the injection of medication. She smiled, hoping to quell her friend's fear seeing just how much she cared for the man. "I think we made it through the worst. Let's see how he responds to what I gave him before we go any further."
MJ nodded, knowing Gina would know best. "All right." she replied, eyes not leaving Peter's face. The lines of pain etched in his face earlier seemed to be lessening.
"You really love him, don't you?" Gina observed easily. It was as if seeing her watching him heightened all the stories she told her about Peter. Gina wondered about the times she had seen them together and found it hard to recall a time where their interaction seemed as intimate or as caring as it did now, with Peter unconscious. She didn't know if that was a bad sign or not. But she was sure the feeling has to be mutual. How could it not? MJ was a one of a kind gal. She always treated others with utmost respect and with genuine care and friendship and she was a riot and not to mention drop dead gorgeous. Gina knew it wouldn't be long before her modeling career hit off, and then her acting career would follow suit.
MJ nodded silently, afraid to say it aloud. It was obvious to Gina, but to admit it seemed to be too revealing.
Gina squeezed her shoulder supportively. "It'll be ok,"