I'm back, did you miss me?  This chapter is sort of long, sorry for anyone who doesn't like long ones.   It's also my favorite chapter so far, along with chapter 3.  It's kind of nasty at one point, not really, but if you have a VERY weak stomach…haha, be prepared.  Enjoy!  And don't forget to review.

I don't own Spider-Man.

**********Peter/Spider-Man's POV (Semi-consciousness)************

         Oh, man.  No idea, no clue…what is going on…

         Phone call…

"Jeez…I called her, why….why did I…I'm so stupid!  I…"

"Hey, keep it down in there, bug!"  I heard a sudden 'clink' noise as something was thrown at the confinement.  Looking around, distracted from my thoughts, I tried to figure out where I was but found it impossible. 

I left M.J.'s…left my house…went to the building, fire…police with guns…now…?  They chained me up here…who's they?  What the…

I was chained to the wall, sitting on the floor.  Stainless steal cuffs covered my legs, wrists, arms, waist…pinning me to the cold, damp bricks behind me.  I tried out my webs; no use.  The steel was too tight…

Oh, my god…my stomach…

"I…hey, someone…I'm…help.  I'm going to…"  Going to be sick…  I called quietly into the dark, hoping someone would hear me.

"Didn't you hear me?!  I said keep it down!"  I couldn't see him through the dimness of the small room, but I recognized the voice from before.  From the phone call.

Something is not right…worry about that later.  I need to get my mask off…

I rubbed my chin up down against the braces on my wrists, trying to at least partially remove it.  Trying to free my mouth.  After a few minutes, I finally managed to make a wrinkle, and created a slit at my neck…come off, damn you…if I can get it off, then…

No, not if.  I have to.  I can't get sick in there.  I'll…ew, I'll drown myself in my own…oh, man, that is foul!   Ew.

If only I could wiggle my nose.

"Yeah, because that…that would help so much…"  Why was I having so much trouble talking, moving…thinking clearly? 

Remembering?

No, no, not yet…I'm not done yet… I pleaded with my stomach to hold whatever was coming up down.  Please, please…no…oh shit…I…  You'd think, that I, of all people, would be able to control my own bodily functions. 

But no.  The fluid rose up my throat.  I could feel it making it's way toward my mouth.  Toward the surface, towards air.  Towards the mask that was only partially lifted from my neck.

It's ok.  It'll drip out.

"No…it…no."

I tried my hardest, as disgusting as it was, to keep my mouth closed.  To swallow it.  I couldn't, and suddenly I was snorting my own puke up my nose.  Yeah, I know.  Gross.

Not to mention the fact that it was choking me.

My lungs began to scream…I couldn't breathe at all.  I began to gasp, my body taking over, making harsh grunting noises.  Spasms began, and I started to shake.

"ACH…chhhhhhhhhhhh…….cough…!"  I was somewhat aware of a man's presence before me.  "I….ple – cough – please!"  I tried to reach out to him, but only my fingers would move.  My vision, blurred from the puking episode, started to dim, but I could sense the large man entering my area. 

"Here, let me help you, Spider-Man." 

"Please…thank – cough – thank you!"  I watched from far away, it seemed, as he unlatched my arms from the wall.  Being too weak to support myself, I fell over into a heap on the cement.  Instantly, my hands flew to my face, lifting the mask to my nose, allowing my lungs to breathe again.  I gasped for breath, seeing colors and objects in my mind.  The shaking slowly subsided, and I glanced up at the man.

"So, Parker, how are you feeling?"  A grin of pearly white slashed through the darkness and an evil laugh split the silence.

 He knows who I am.  I was so confused by his question, so weak and in pain, that I wasn't ready for what he did next. 

Leaning down, he threw me back against the wall and re-clasped the braces.

"I – grunt – I'm sure I'd  be better if you – you'd tell me what's going on."

He just smiled.

"Wh-what do you want with me?  Just…just tell me."

"What, and forget about the suspense?  Nah, I'll wait.  Besides, I want your little girlfriend to hear, too…heh, heh, heh!  We'll just wait till she arrives."

My heart stopped.  "WHAT!?  I…no…you can't…how!?  Please, just leave her alone.  She's…not…not involved in this!"

"Oh, but she is.  In fact, she's already on her way here.  Well, she's on her way somewhere.  But we'll make sure she ends up here.  You can trust me on that."

No, no, no…not M.J…  I needed to warn her, I needed to stop them… Who is this guy?!  I used what strength I had left to try to get out of the brackets, but I obviously didn't have very much left at all.  Giving up, I leaned my head back against the bricks and took a deep breath.

I've failed.  Again.  I'm done.  This is it.  I can't get out.  Why did I ever think that I …that I could…oh my god.  M.J.  She's going to be caught…all because of me. All my fault.  If only… What will she think of me?  And what will Aunt May think –

AUNT MAY!

I raised my head and opened my eyes.  I looked to the man who was now standing against the wall.  "Where are they!?"

"Bug, what are you talking about?"  He seemed annoyed.

"The woman.  The two women from the accident.  What have you done to them!?"

"Oh.  Them.  We had no use for them.  We got rid of them."

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"I said, we got rid of them.  What, are you deaf?"  He walked over to me, pulling something from his jacket.  "I can see that our earlier injections have worn off…damn spider powers, I guess this time I'll just give you more."  I tried to see what it was he had, I figured it was the needle again…but I couldn't see clearly enough.   I glared at the man, though he couldn't see my eyes.

Not that it would matter, since he already somehow knows who I am…

He unlatched my arm to get to my shoulders.  Not a smart move on his part…

SMACK!  Before he could inject me with the needle, because that's what it was, I smacked him across the face.  He stood still for a moment, almost shocked.  I punched him with all my power, twice.  Once in the nose, once near his temple.

"You mother…"  Throwing the needle-gun-thing down, he lunged at me.  It was impossible to push him away; he was a large man, quite muscular, and I had only one free arm.  He put all his weight on top of my body, pinning my arm against my body.

"AUUUGHH, GET…get OFF!"  I threw my weight as best I could to try to make him fall off of me…it didn't work.  He reached over my shoulders, grabbing my head in his hands.  I thought he was going to take my mask off, but instead he threw my head against the wall behind me.  Several times.  I blacked out for a few moments, unaware of all pain and noise, until I suddenly felt a sharp stab in my right leg.  I came to, hurting, and saw him lying on the ground a few feet away, bleeding from a deep wound above his left eyebrow.  I looked to my leg for the source of pain, despite the fact that I knew what had happened.

There was the needle, in my calf, draining into my bloodstream and muscles.

That really can't be good.

"Ow…"  I reached out to the needle with my free hand, but couldn't make contact with it.  I couldn't bend my waist at all, or move my feet or legs.  I couldn't get it out.  I watched as the crystal clear liquid seeped into my skin, through the suit.  My muscles began to slacken; concentration faded slightly.  My whole body began to itch uncontrollably, starting at my leg and rising towards my head.  The itch turned into numbness, and after a few minutes I couldn't feel anything.  I couldn't move anything.  I couldn't focus my eyes, had no long distance vision.  What I did see was blurry and colorless.

But I was still conscious.

Conscious, but paralyzed.  Completely, totally paralyzed, covered in barf, blood, and a burned, tattered suit of spandex.

I'm sure I looked lovely.

*********M.J.'s POV***********

I changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed a hat, sunglasses and scarf, threw my coat on, and ran outside.  Peter was right; it was chilly out.  I grabbed the first taxicab I saw and directed him to the police station.  The driver, an older man with white hair, wanted to know which station I wanted to go to.

         "Uh, there's more than one?"

         He laughed kindheartedly, smiling at me in the rearview mirror.  "Well, sure hon.  New York is a big city."

         "Um, just take me to the closest one I guess…"  The police officers would know which location Peter was in. 

         "You got it." 

         The drive, which only lasted a few minutes, was excruciating.  I couldn't keep my mind from Peter and what they were doing to him.  First of all, the cop on the phone had sounded…fishy.  And Peter sounded like he was drugged with more than sedatives.  He had to have been, the way he was acting. 

         "Well, here you go.  That's seven eighty-two."  The old man had pulled up in front of a station.

         I dug through my pockets, pulling out a ten dollar bill.  I threw it at him through the partitioning window and opened the car door. 

         "Don't you want…"

         I was already running up the gigantic cement steps to the station.  "Keep it!"  I heard a "thanks hon!" as he drove off into the rout of other cabs.

         Before entering the station, I pulled out the pair of sunglasses and hat.  I pulled my hair up and tucked it all into the hat, hiding the red.  I zipped up my jacket and threw on the scarf.  I proceeded towards the large swinging doors, trying to enter without tripping myself.  I always was uncoordinated when it came to swinging doors.  Stupid doors. 

         My eyes adjusted to the dim lights inside, and I looked around at all the people sitting on benches and stools, people sitting at desks talking to cops and detectives.  It smelled of…something.  I couldn't pinpoint the exact odor, but it was something nasty that shouldn't be voluntarily smelled.  I walked casually up to a large desk of to the left of the room where a uniformed officer sat reading the newspaper.  He raised his eyebrows as I approached, setting his newspaper down.  He was bald, fat, and eating a jelly donut that left stains on his uniform.

         "May I help you," he looked over my clothes, my awkward appearance, before continuing, "…ma'am?"

         "Yeah…I…I'm here to pay somebody's bail?"  I glanced into my bag, hoping I had enough money for it.

         "I'm sorry…visiting and paying hours are closed.  You're going to have to come back later."  He resumed reading his newspaper.

         "But…but I got a phone call."  The paper crinkled, and I could see his eyes looking me over once again. 

         "Ma'am…you'll have to come back later."

         "You don't understand.  I'm here for somebody special."

         He rolled his eyes and looked at me like I was an idiot.  I'll be the first to admit, I probably did look like one.  "Special, huh?  How special?"

         "I…I'm here for…" I glanced around quickly, making sure no one was near, and lowered my voice a little.  "Spider-Man."

         "Spider-Man is dead, lady.  Don't you watch the news?"

         "No, no…he's not."

         "Look, I don't know if this is some kind of 'funny' joke, but there's no Spider-Man here.  I'm trying to get my work done, so if you could please step back into reality…" 

         I shook my head and backed away, glaring at him.  I turned around, ready to head out the doors.  Shook my head in disgust and mumbled "asshole" as I walked away.

         "Hey, I heard that!"  When I looked back at him,  I noticed he had gone back to his donut and 'work'.  Unfortunately, as I was looking at him I was also walking forward, and bumped into someone.

         "Oh!  I'm sorry!" 

         "No, no, miss, it's quite alright."  I smiled up at a tall man in a dark business suit. 

         "I wasn't watching where I was going."

         "It's quite alright, I assure you."  He turned to the doors, motioning for me to go out first. 

         "Thank you."  I stood at the top of the stairway, unsure of what to do next.  I noticed the man was still there beside me, and I slowly walked away. 

         He followed me.

         I walked down the stairs, and headed down the street a ways. 

         Still there. 

         What the…

         "Miss?"  All of a sudden, he was walking beside me.

         "Um…yeah?"

         "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation.  I heard you say you were looking for someone."

         Think fast, M.J.  "Um, yeah…"  Way to go, idiot.  I said THINK.

         "I know where he is.  I can take you to him."

         I stopped dead in my tracks.  "What do you know about who I am looking for?!"

         "More than you do."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, miss.  Just trying to warn you…"

         Warn me?  "About what?"

         "Come with me."  He veered off to the left and waited at a crosswalk.  I followed him.  What else could I do?  We walked for about ten minutes before coming to an abandoned building in an industrial part of the city, right outside of Central Park.  This guy was creepy…he was such a gentleman, but so mysterious.

         Like Peter.

         I caught up to the man, whose name I had found out was "Mr. Black".  I assumed it was a fake name.

         "Mr. Black, uh…where are we going, and who are you?  How do you know about…him?"  He stopped walking and turned to face me. 

         He stopped walking and turned to face me.  I could see him tense up as he let out a sigh, and my eyebrows rose.  "M.J…I'm not going to lie.  Peter is in trouble.  He…well, I work for someone.  But I've realized that I don't want to anymore.  That's why I found you.  I'm leading you into disaster, I can feel it.  He…my boss…he sent me for you, to bring you here.  Peter is here.  I'm not sure how he is, I know that they drugged him.  I left after that.  But I want to warn you, I don't know what they're going to do to you…or Peter."

         "How…why-what are you talking about…how…Peter?"  He knows too much.

         "He knows.  He knows who he is.  He knows who you are.  I don't know how, I was stupid to get involved."

         "Who?"

         "My boss."

         "Who's your boss?"

         "I…I honestly don't know.  I was stupid.  He pays good, but the work is dirty…I don't know what he's planning on doing, but he absolutely hates your friend.  He claims that he did something to him once, foiled some plan of his or something."

         Yeah, that sounds like Peter.  "And now he's in trouble?"

         "I think, yeah.  I'm pretty sure.  But, just go along with me.  Don't let boss-man know you know."

         I KNEW he was in trouble.  I knew it.  "Who…who called me?"

         "That was Strand.  He's…he's guarding Peter right now.  Boss-man is on his way here, or even may be here already.  He wants to…"

         "…what?"  He wants to what!?

         "M.J., he wants to kill Peter.  Kill Spider-Man.  He can, and I don't doubt that he will.  Now listen – he sent me to find you.  He told me to bring you here, to use Peter as bait.  I did.  I don't know what he'll do, but…I'll get you out, ok?  Let's go."  He started to walk down the rotting wooden staircase to the basement of the dump.

         "Wait.  You want me to…to go down there, and be caught?  Maybe killed?  How can I trust you?"  This is a trap

         "It's up to you.  But you have to.  If Peter is hurt, he may need you more than you think."

         "How…how do you know so much stuff about us?"

         His eyes lowered, as if he were ashamed.  "We know far too much than you'd care to realize."

         I'll take his word on that.  "Ok.  I'll do it."

         "Good.  Let's go."

         I stepped in time with him down the stairs, into a gloomy room with low ceilings and no windows.  It took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the dark, but once they did I wished they hadn't. 

         In the far corner of the room was a large metal cage-like structure, with a swinging door attached.  I walked slowly up to the door, not believing my eyes.  Peter…

         I let out a small scream, a gasp for air…

         He looked dead.

         "Oh my god!  Peter!  Peter, wake up!"  I ran up to him, pulling his mask away from his face.  I jumped when I noticed that his eyes were open, glazed over, looking into mine.  He was breathing slowly…he was still alive.

         He was alive.

         My body sagged in a sigh of relief.  I pulled off my scarf and used it to wipe Peter's face off.  He'd gotten sick all over himself, then, I used the clean end to wipe my own tear-streaked cheeks.  I noticed that he was attached to the wall with silver metal things, his hands above his head.  His ankles were attached to the floor, and his waist to the bottom of the wall, near the floor.  I tried talking to him, but he wouldn't answer me.  No, not he wouldn't.  He couldn't.  He didn't, couldn't move at all except to look at me.

         Oh, man, Peter…what did they do to you?

         I asked him questions, begged for answers…finally I got an idea.  I could use pencil and paper, ask yes or no questions…he could use his eyes.  I got up to get the paper, leaving Peter by himself for a few moments.

**********Peter/Spider-Man's POV(Paralysis)*********

         I sat in silence for what seemed like days.  Finally, after I started to get bored – yeah, bored – I watched as the guy got up and left.  He pulled the needle from my leg and placed my arm back into the clasp; I didn't feel a thing.  I wanted so badly to reach out and hit him, to spit in his face, to do something to him as he bent over and waved his hand in front of my eyes.  But I couldn't.  I still couldn't move, talk, or see clearly...  It was rather annoying.  Luckily, though, I also couldn't feel pain. 

         I don't know if I would have been able to bear it.

         I could feel fatigue.  I would have slept, but…well, would YOU be able to sleep, knowing that you were paralyzed, in some kind of danger, and the one person you loved most was bound to be in danger as well?

         Point made.

         A while after the guy left, I could see blobs moving in the distance.  One of the blobs suddenly ran into my cage, and I could sense that it was M.J.  There was a guy with her, but my spider-sense didn't go off once.

Well, maybe that's paralyzed, too.

I wanted to reach out to M.J.  I wanted to ask her what happened, who the guy was, where I was…how she was.  Tell her that I loved her, and get her out.  Take her home where she'd be safe. 

Not being able to do this made me want to cry, but I couldn't even do that.  

She ran up to me, and that's when I realized I couldn't hear, either. 

So that's why it's so quiet.

Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.  She wiped my face off, but I wasn't able to feel her touch.  When she leaned down to give me a kiss, I couldn't return the caress.  

If there is a hell, it can't be much worse than this.

She was asking me questions, I could tell from her facial expressions.  I couldn't answer her, and it killed me.  I just looked into her eyes and yearned for the drugs to wear off soon.  She turned to the man standing behind her; he had a worried look on his face.  I could see her talking to him.

Please…I just want to know…what you're saying.  M.J…this is horrible.

Suddenly, she turned back to me and held up her index finger in a "one minute" signal.  She and the man left my field of vision and returned to being black and white blobs moving around in the shadows.  I closed my eyes and waited for her to return, but after she'd been gone only a few seconds, I felt a slight prickling in my head…

My spider-sense.

So it's not paralyzed.

I opened my eyes and searched for the source of alarm, but only saw M.J. in front of me with the tall guy.  I shuttered my eyelids a few times in an attempt to warn them of danger, but they just looked confused.  They glanced at each other, than back at me.  Then, she held up a piece of paper with writing on it: "One blink = yes, two blinks = no.  Are you ok?"

I blinked my eyes twice, then paused and blinked once.  They just looked at me, puzzled.  Turning back to the paper, she wrote "Can you see this?"

One blink.

"Can you hear?"

Two blinks.

"Are you hurting?"

Two blinks.  I probably should be, but technically, I wasn't.

"Do you know what happened, what they did to you?"

Two blinks. 

The questions kept coming.  Normally, they'd be simple yes or no questions, but most of these had two answers: yes and no.  Yes, I know they stabbed me with a drugged needle, but no, I don't know what the drug was or how long it will last.  Or if it would stop at all.   No, I am not hurting…physically.  Mentally?  I am dead. 

I wanted to know why my spider-sense went off.  Something was wrong. 

Spider-senses don't lie.

Except for that one time…

That doesn't count.

I grew nervous for M.J.'s safety.  She didn't need to be here; we weren't accomplishing anything.  She tried to get me off of the wall, but the clasps were locked, and there was no key anywhere.  It's not like I could've gotten up and walked away even if I were free.  I gave up on her blinking game, and she became frustrated with me.

Then, both of their heads turned simultaneously.  They quickly stood up and turned around, the tall guy grabbing M.J. by the shoulders and holding her cruelly.  My spider-sense was going crazy now – the big guy was back.  Tall guy stepped up to him, thrusting M.J. into his arms.  Big guy grabbed her, smiled at tall guy, and threw her into the cage with me.

He set her up.

         Why didn't my senses go off before, though?

         M.J. crawled over to me, crying, and sat down next to me.  I looked into her tear stained face, her huge eyes rimmed with wet lashes.  She began to bite her nails, and leaned up against me.

         Hell.  Pure hell.

         The two men had left, but I saw that they returned when M.J. looked over to the door again.  Big guy had the needle gun…but tall guy looked like he wasn't going to let him use it.  He stood in front of big guy, shaking his head and pointing at me and M.J.  Big guy became angry and pointed towards the other end of the room, then threw his hands up with a look of disgust.  He sat the needle gun down and walked away.  Tall guy turned to face me and M.J., then glanced over his shoulder.  He looked back and motioned for M.J. to get up and go to him, which she did carefully, apprehensively.

         I felt like a child caught in the middle of something.  I had no say in anything, and I couldn't find out what was going on.

         After talking to him, M.J. returned to me, a little calmer now.  She gave me an "ok" sign with her fingers, and took her seat beside me.  She leaned her head up against my shoulders, wrapping her arms and hands around my head and torso.  She stayed there for a few moments with her eyes closed as I watched her breathing become heavy.

         No, M.J…don't sleep.  Wake up.  I need you to be my ears. 

         And mouth.

         And limbs and brain and nose and…

         Sigh.

         But then she opened her eyes and looked into mine.  I could imagine the brilliance of the green orbs contrasting her red locks, and my heart broke not being able to see it in color.  Like when you're watching The Wizard of Oz, and the whole beginning you're just waiting for Dorothy to go to Oz so you can see it in color…Ok, so that was a lame analogy, but as close as I can get to the truth.

         I sighed one last time before drifting off into a comatose state.  M.J. had said it would be ok…and for some reason, I trusted tall guy. 

         I'm slowly, slowly getting this story line worked out.  Please let me know how I'm doing!

Chapter 9 will be up soon thanks to Thanksgiving break.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!  Go eat some turkey!

        

"Press me!"