I don't own Spider-Man, and my hopes and dreams fade every time I am forced to say that. *sniff sniff*
Lyrics: "For me this is heaven" by Jimmy Eat World (my babies J ) from their Clarity CD. Go buy it.
*******Peter/Spider-Man's POV (Paralysis)*********
It rained. I could smell it, I could hear it. I could sense the moisture in the air after I woke from drips touching my skin, falling from the ceiling above. Maybe ceiling was the wrong word though; more like plywood. This place was a dump. Anyway, my body was being reborn, returning my stolen senses back to their rightful owner. I could only hope that they would fully return before big guy came back with the soporific drug. Then, maybe I…maybe I could escape. Break free.
I don't want them to…I can't…M.J…
How did I get into this?
M.J., resting beside me, moved and her hair fell across my chest. It felt great. Renewed my hopes, my optimism, my strength, and made me wish I could only voluntarily move my body in response. Every endeavor to move failed, but still I tried to open my mouth. To speak to her. All I could do was imagine myself having a conversation with her, one in which I, too, could speak and contribute towards. It killed me.
I didn't want her to be scared for me; I wanted to let her know it was ok, even though it wasn't, not really.
This situation perplexed me. Never had I imagined myself being found out, let alone being caught and held prisoner by a man I didn't know. A man who obviously knew who I was.
It scared me. A lot.
My fingers and legs began to twitch. A chemical reaction of some sort, maybe? All I knew was that I wasn't controlling it. Must be the drug wearing off. Again, I attempted to speak, this time my mouth opening slightly, leaving a crack between my lips. No sound; only movement. M.J. woke up, looking with bemused eyes from my fingers to my legs to my face. She placed her hands around mine, subduing the tremors of my fingers, and said my name. A tear rolled down my cheek and fell to the cement floor beneath me.
[The first star I see may not be a star
We can't do a thing but wait
So let's wait for one more
The time such clumsy time in deciding if it's time]
Soft, warm fingers brushed the streak away and traced my features as the eyes that belonged to the body looked deep into mine. I gazed into the green radiance and lost my fears, my anxieties. Lost myself.
[I'm careful but not sure how it goes
You can lose yourself in your courage
The mindless comfort grows when I'm alone with my great plans]
Her eyelids closed over the luminosity, shutting the brilliance away from me. Imprisoning it within her soul, in turn creating a sting in my very own.
[This is what she says gets her through it:
If I don't let myself be happy now then what?
If not now when?
When the time we have now ends
When the big hand goes around again]
The eyes opened once again, and the vivacity made me glow inside.
[Can you still feel the butterflies?
Can you still hear the last goodnight?
Close my eyes and believe wherever you are, an angel for me.]
She leaned her head upon my shoulder, whispering into my ears. The light faded away as I closed my own eyes and felt weakness directing my body yet again. But before I was lost, before the exhaustion took full authority, my voice made a breakthrough. My lips released from each other.
"M.J….help me…"
*********M.J.'s POV************
I crawled up to the bars, my whispers cutting the darkness. "Mr. Black?" He was here somewhere, he had to be. My eyes searched the room for movement, finally laying upon "boss-man" sitting at a busted up oak desk on the other side. He didn't move, so he must not have heard me. I leaned my back up against the cage door and glanced towards Peter.
Sigh. He said he'd get us out. Peter…there…there's something wrong with Pete. He needs help. I shook my head in frustration and went back to him. He was asleep again, but before he'd fallen asleep, he'd talked…I couldn't figure out what he'd meant, and he wouldn't wake up. Did he need help, physically? Was he in pain? Or, was it something else?
I didn't know, and the uncertainty didn't aid in my feeling better. Wrapping my hands around Peter's arm, I leaned my head back against the bricks and let the built up tears pour over my eyelids. I'd been strong for long enough.
********Peter/Spider-Man's POV (Unconsciousness)*********
I dreamt. I was on a train, a subway…something that moved fast on a track. We began to go faster and faster, until finally, the track was gone and we seemed to be flying over the world. I saw everything from above, yet I was still on the train. I sat there, in a hard plastic chair, next to a woman. I couldn't see her face, what she looked like, but I knew she was very pretty. Pretty, but with a wickedness about her. I got a feeling from her. I. Me. Peter Parker. Spider-Man was in no way involved. No spider-senses, just genuine human feelings. Like…evil vibes or something. You know what I mean; I can't explain it, but you know what I mean. When you meet someone, and you just…you just feel their iniquity from the way they're acting, or what they say…that's how she was. She sat next to me, looking at me. I tried to keep myself from returning her glances, but forces unknown pulled my eyes from the ground, as if compelling them to focus on her. She had no face, just a blank spot. No features, no hair. But still a woman…
I looked away, fearful of the void. People are supposed to have faces. That's how…that's just how things are.
When I glanced back again, stronger and ready for the shock this time, she was no longer a woman, but a man. I started at his shoes, and worked my way upwards with hesitant eyes. As I neared his neck, just as I was about to look into his face, he was gone. Like the track. He disappeared. In his place was…nothing. Air, emptiness. I was alone.
Totally alone…
*******Peter/Spider-Man's POV (Consciousness)************
Suddenly, I was awake. I looked around frantically for someone. A person. That's all I knew. Who am I looking for?!
What the hell? Who…hey, wait, I'm moving!
I was mobile again. Stuck to the wall, yes, but mobile. I stretched my fingers and toes, and swiveled my neck. Several bones made cracking noises with the action. Ah, yes…I've been needing to do that.
That's when I noticed the man standing in front of the cage, looking at me. I froze and glared back, unable to see his eyes in the darkness. He was a shadow in the distance and his eyes burned into me. I felt them.
As my mind cleared, I realized that M.J. was not there.
I looked back to the man. "Where is she?" My voice…such a great feeling.
No answer. Silence.
"Where is she!?" Fury took over, and my body began to shake itself, to try to free itself from the wraps. "WHERE!?"
"…She's around."
"WHERE!?" She can't…they can't…NO! Just…no. My body was shaking, waiting for the needle again. I knew he was going to use it. I knew he had it. Calm down, Peter. Calm. Breathe. You're not going to be able to do anything right if you can't concentrate. Focus. C'mon. I took a deep breath and stopped the shaking before talking again. The whole time, he just stood there, looking at me. Watching. Almost like he was waiting for something.
Waiting for me to lose control.
Don't give in, Pete. Don't let him have what he wants.
I exhaled. "Look. I…I don't know what's going on. I don't know what you want with me, just tell me and…I…I'll do what you want. Please, don't bring her into this. I'll do anything. Don't hurt her. Please."
"Oh, I know. You will give us what we want," he said, threateningly. Then, as he tilted his head with a chary grin, "We'll do with her what we must."
"Then what is it? What do you want?"
"We want you to go bye-bye."
"I swear, if you hurt her…"
Big guy lost his menacing posture as he slinked closer to the cage. "What is it with you always trying to protect everybody? I mean, does it ever really work?"
I had no answer.
"Sure, in the movies." He walked away, shaking his head and laughing blithely.
"Yeah," I muttered to myself, "it's just so god damn funny, isn't it?"
***********M.J.'s POV***********
I felt a heaviness about my body and my eyes opened to a blinding darkness. Lifting a wool blanket off of my face, I realized that I wasn't where I used to be. Peter was gone. I was in some kind of car. Seats lined the walls, with low, dark windows above them.
A subway.
All seats were empty but for mine and one at the back of the train, where Mr. Black sat.
"Hey…?"
His head rose from his hands and he looked at me with scared eyes. "I'm sorry."
"What? What's happening, where are we going? Where's Peter?!"
"I couldn't…I couldn't get him out. But I got you out. Boss separated you guys, but didn't chain you up. Only locked the door. Peter – he's still there."
"Why?! We're leaving him there?! Mr. Black, we…no, we have to go back!"
"Sean."
"Huh?"
"My name is Sean Rothbey."
"I don't care! I need to go back!" What is his problem!? How can we just leave him there!? I brushed the blanket off and stood, glancing at the door and the lights flashing by. Dizziness enveloped me and I sat back down before I could fall. "What are they going to do to him?"
His head was back in his hands, and he started to rub his temples with his thumbs. "I'm not sure, exactly. Something with some kind of serum or something, it's supposed to give him amnesia-like effects, then they were going to program him…"
"Program him!? Look, he's not a robot! They can't! How do I get off of here!?"
"The next stop is in Sullivan County."
"WHAT!? You're kidding me, right?"
"No."
"Well, I need to find the driver. We're turning around."
"M.J., subways don't just 'turn around'. And ask yourself this: why would they want you there? What did they need you for? I can't figure it out. He hates Peter for being Spider-Man. But why would he want you there? I can't…" He shook his head. "I can't figure it out. There's something more. Something I'm missing."
"Bait. I was bait."
"No, he was there before you."
"Oh. Well, when I came, he…he felt better, he became hopeful…maybe they need that for the thing to work?"
"I don't know."
I made a sound of disgust as I flopped back against the window.
*********Peter/Spider-Man's POV*************
I winced as my torso hit the corner of the wooden desk, and I fell to the floor as the air was forced from my lungs. "Ugh!" I tried to stand up quickly, but was slowed by the liquid in my veins. I turned to face big guy, who, just moments earlier, had stabbed me with a new needle, then pulled me from my prison. He was trying to move me to a new reformatory…in the room off to the right with his desk. There I could see a metal table and a large machine. It was outsized, like an enlarged operating table, with a headrest and cuffs for limbs. An I.V. drip stood off to the left, and several lights flashed from a computer above the bolster. "You're not putting me on that."
He seized my arm aggressively and threw me towards the table. I grabbed the edge and prepared to kick him as he trailed behind me, walking slowly as though I were helpless. Stupid of you. I'm not down…yet. Allowing my chest to lean on the table, I threw my legs into the air, not expecting him to take hold of them. Adversely, he did grab them and pulled me once more to the floor.
"We will win, either way. You can fight, or you can just submit. We will win."
"No..." My head fell against the metal base of the table, and I used my hands to the best of my ability to push away, to stand up. The serum, a different one than before, was adding paralyzing effects. Again. I'd watched as he poked my arm with the needle, this time filled with an opaque blue gel-like liquid. Now, I was wobbly and found that my eyesight was blurring, too. I felt behind me for the top of the table, using it for support. "…no..." Webs protruded from my wrists and I pulled him towards me. Then, I kicked him away with all my might; he landed a few feet away, against the large oak desk at which he had earlier sat. As he stood, I noticed the wound above his eyebrow had reopened, and left splatters of deep red blood dripping down his front. Tenderly, he brought a finger to the lesion, touching it. He drew it away and walked slowly towards me, glaring, breathing heavily. I didn't move. His face was next to mine, staring into mine, reading me like a book…he knew I was scared. A smile appeared, and the bloody finger ran down my cheek, leaving a track or red behind.
M.J. If I don't get out, I can't find her.
"…and NO!" A wad of spit landed in his face, and my fist drove in from the right, hitting his head with a clout. The dull thump reverberated through the room and he fell with a cry of pain. The action, however, caused a sudden sting of pain in my abdomen and chest. I doubled over, incapable of tolerating it, hitting my head on the table on the way to the ground. "Jeez!…ow." Big guy lay on the grimy wooden floorboards in front of me with a hand to his bleeding head. I deemed him as a KO…he wasn't moving or talking, only breathing.
Shit, now what!?
I brought up my arms, and covered the body in a maze of white webs. He was now stuck to the desk.
See how you like it…being stuck to the wall…Ha.
My head fell to the floor as I tried to catch my breath. I'd never had so much trouble breathing, fighting, and trying to figure out what to do… Never. This was all so new to me. In no way had I ever been so close to defeat, and now I was close enough to taste it. I did, after all, taste blood. My tongue searched my mouth for the source of it, finding a wobbly tooth in the front. I spit it out onto the floor, cringing from the soreness in my gum. I hated losing teeth; even when I was younger I always had. It was like…missing a part of yourself.
My body jumped with realization. "Ahh…" My spider-sense – which had started going off the moment big guy had entered my prison with the needle – hadn't stopped. It continued to drone in my head, ringing in my ears, tingling at the base of my neck. It was starting to bother me, give me a headache…
I laid there for god knows how many minutes, hours, or days…just waiting. Waiting for the strength to get up, the strength to leave. For the buzzing in my head to stop. The pain in my body to recede. Waiting for my head to make sense. Waiting to see again.
Waiting for the strength to figure out what the hell I was going to do.
I guess I eventually fell asleep again, because the next thing I remembered was big guy talking to himself. I heard him arguing, and watched him struggle to escape the webbing for a few minutes, before speaking.
"…boss gets here, and then he'll say, 'Strand, how did you get into this mess?!' And he'll fire me. But, I mean, it was Spider-Man, so it's not like I should be upset. No one can beat this guy, and - "
"Exactly. No one."
His surprised look quickly turned in to one of annoyance. "Shut up. You will be beaten."
"Not by you, I won't."
"Yeah? Well I notice that you haven't gotten up from the ground. How long have you been lying there, anyway? You're as good as dead, once the boss gets here."
"As are you."
He glared at me from underneath his web casing. "Tell me, Parker, what day is it?"
Guess that depends on how many days I've been here. "I don't know."
"And what month is it?"
"Uhh…it's September. No, wait, it's November. No, it's…uhhhh…?"
The glare turned into an amused smile. "How naïve you are…how incredibly, stupidly naïve."
"You won't win."
"How did you get here?"
"I don't know!"
"And how old are you?"
"…I…I'm…what does that matter!?"
"Who was the last person you saw yesterday? What did you eat for lunch? What year did J.F.K. die? What was your mothers maiden name? Where is your aunt? What happened to your uncle?"
"Stop!" I sat up swiftly, bringing my hands to my head. My brain felt as if it were exploding. "Just stop!" What did he put in me!?
"What's your little girlfriends name?"
"WHERE IS M.J.!?"
"Damn. Don't worry though, you'll forget that eventually."
"What did you do to me?"
He laughed. "Why should I tell you? You'll just forget. Ha! Ahhhh, the fate. Now who can save you, Oh Big and Mighty Spider-Man?"
Chapter 10 will come. (I can read the future!)
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