Author's Notes: Hello again, everyone! I can't believe what a warm response I am getting, this has been totally awesome. I just got home today (7/29), and I immediately began writing. I hope this chapter pleases you all. Keep the feedback coming, I love it!

My New York City geography sucks. Sorry if I have everything completely wrong to all the New Yorkers. I actually researched a hospital though, so I know that is right at least.

This chapter is the longest yet. Yahoo for me!

Additional Disclaimer: I don't own Cap'n Crunch Cereal either ;-)

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Spiderman 3: Legacy
Chapter Three

Peter carried his sleeping beauty home to rest. Mary Jane was light enough to be carried without a fuss, something that both pleased and worried Peter. She was quite skinny, and he always thought she did not eat enough. But Mary Jane was a short-tempered woman on her best days, and always got angry when Peter suggested that she eat more. She was quite capable of taking care of herself, and did not need Spiderman getting involved in her personal affairs.

Of course, Peter was already involved in her personal affairs, but he never pointed that out to her. He would never do anything to intentionally anger the love of his life. Mary Jane saved Peter in so many ways. She kept him sane amidst the turbulence that was his every day life, she nursed him when he was hurt, and she even got him to do his homework. Since she had entered his life as a love interest and companion, Peter had been better off in everything that he did.

After depositing his sleeping fiancé on the bed, Peter padded into the kitchen, searching for something to eat. He had developed quite a large appetite over the past year, and was constantly hungry. After discovering there was nothing of merit in the refrigerator, Peter opened one of the small wooden cupboards and pulled out a box of cereal. His comfort food had become Cap'n Crunch cereal, which he supposed said something about his character. He took the milk out of the fridge, and commenced to eat.

Several long moments passed by, the silence only broken by the sounds of Peter slurping his cereal. After moving in with Mary Jane, Peter had developed a hate for any type of silence. His vibrant and exciting girlfriend was rarely quiet, and they were always talking or listening to music together. Whenever she was away or sleeping, Peter was left on his own, uneasy in the silence. That particular night, however, he was much too tired to actually get up and turn on the radio.

The phone rang. Peter looked up at the apparatus on his wall, debating whether to actually answer it or not. It was late at night, and they didn't have many friends who would call at that hour. The chances were that it was telemarketers on the other end. Peter sighed. Knowing his luck, if he didn't answer the phone, it would have been his boss on the other line, firing him for not answering. Deciding to risk his luck, Peter got up and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

There were several moments of silence before a deep and melodious voice answered. "Hello, am I speaking to Peter Parker?"

"Yes."

"This is Doctor Mannings at the Metropolitan Hospital Center. You might want to sit down, Mr. Parker."

Peter swallowed the remains of his mouthful of Cap'n Crunch but remained standing. "I'm fine the way I am, Dr. Mannings."

"Well then," the doctor said, sounding somewhat unsure of himself. "About one hour earlier this evening we received a phone call from a Mrs. Horowitz in an apartment building on 32nd street. Apparently she had heard a blood-curling scream from the elderly woman who lived next door to her. She ran next door to find the front door ajar, and therefore ran into the apartment."

"This is a very interesting story, Dr. Mannings," Peter said bitterly, "But I have yet to see what it has to do with me."

"A woman was lying on the floor, covered in blood," Dr. Mannings said, plowing on as though he hadn't been interrupted, "Mrs. Horowitz immediately called 911, and they responded, bringing the woman to our hospital's emergency room. The woman is now in critical condition. Mrs. Horowitz identified her name as May, and said that she only had one living relative, her nephew, Peter Parker."

Peter would have dropped the phone, if his reflexes hadn't been quite so good. He suddenly found that his voice didn't work very well. "Is," he rasped, "my aunt going to be okay?"

"As we said before, Peter, she is in critical condition. It would be best if you came down to the hospital now. I'm afraid I must leave you now, as I am required in another department. It would be for the best if you did come down, Peter. The power of family goes quite far." Dr. Mannings bid Peter a good night and then hung up the phone with a click.

Light footsteps behind him announced to Peter that Mary Jane had joined him in the kitchen. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked quietly.

"It's Aunt May… She's in critical condition at the hospital."

Peter heard MJ's sharp intake of breath. "Peter," she said quietly, coming close enough to lay her smooth hand on his shaking arm. "Let's go. We can take the subway, it would be fastest."

He turned around and they locked eyes, pouring love and support into each. "Mary Jane…" Peter began, not sure what to say.

She smiled sweetly. "Thank me later, Peter."

--

The hospital was not too far from their apartment. Several stops on the subway, and they were there. Mary Jane could feel her love shaking as she stood next to him in the crowded compartments, and had to steady his stance a few times. Peter hadn't given her the details on Aunt May's condition, but from the ashen look on his face, she could tell that the old woman is in serious danger. Though Peter rarely admitted it, he relied on Aunt May as more than just a form of support. She was the closest thing to a mother he had ever known, and their relationship was much closer than even Peter's and his Uncle Ben's had been. If Aunt May died, something MJ didn't want to consider, she didn't know how Peter would cope.

Peter walked briskly into the hospital, leaving MJ behind to try and catch up with him. His legs were not that much longer than hers, but he was much stronger and could cover the distance much quicker. Mary Jane hurried to stay by his side, jogging slightly as Peter walked.

He spoke quickly and harshly to the woman behind the welcome counter, and she hurriedly directed the pair to Aunt May's room in the emergency wing. Peter did not stop to see if Mary Jane was behind him, he just kept moving.

They finally came to a halt outside of a small room. Peter reached his hand out to open the door, but he was shaking too much. Quietly, Mary Jane pushed him to the side and opened the door herself.

Mary Jane had never been in a hospital for something as serious as this before. When she was little, she had had her tonsils removed, but it was a process she neither thought much of or recalled now. Her family had always been remarkably healthy, and her friends as well. The only other time she had been in a hospital was for Aunt May also, but nothing about that experience could have prepared her for this.

Peter's aunt was hooked to many machines, which Mary Jane thought resembled life support, though she could not be sure. She was connected to an IV, and the machine monitoring her heart beat steady rhythms. Peter had moved to his aunt's side, and was clutching her hand.

"Peter," MJ said tentatively, "I don't know if you should get too close… It might interfere with the doctors' work."

"I know what I'm doing," the normally passive man said harshly. "I can hold my aunt's hand if I want to. God knows this might be the last time I ever get to."

Mary Jane instantly felt horrible. Though her family life was far from ideal, they were all there, in her house, all the time. Peter had grown up with his relatives, never really knowing his parents. Aunt May, if not by genetics, was Peter's mother, and MJ was reminded of how she would feel if it was her in this position.

There was knock on the door, and then a doctor entered. His nametag read "Dr. Mannings." He smiled sadly at the pair, and reached to shake Mary Jane's hand.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Mannings," he said, indicating to his nametag with his free hand, "You must be Mary Jane Watson."

She smiled back, a bit perplexed. "How would you know that, Doctor?"

"I saw you perform one evening. You were marvelous." His eyes twinkled at her. Mary Jane felt a bit uncomfortable but continued smiling. The doctor turned to Peter, and extended his hand. "And you, I trust, are Peter Parker. We spoke on the phone."

Peter nodded sharply. "What happened to my aunt, Doctor?"

"You should probably sit down." The pair moved to sit in the rigid chairs surrounding Aunt May's bed. "Would you like the good news or the bad news first?"

"The bad news," Peter said instantly.

"Well, it appears that your aunt was attacked. She has suffered two deep knife wounds on each of her thighs. Boiling water was poured onto her eyes and face. She has suffered severe damage." The doctor looked semi-apologetic. "And now for the good news."

Mary Jane grabbed Peter's hand, and held it within her grasp as tightly as she could.

"Your aunt will make a recovery, and her life is not in danger anymore. You have the quick thinking of her kind neighbor to thank for that. With several months of rehab, she will be able to walk again, with the aid of a cane. If she is particularly determined, she might even walk again unaided."

Peter sighed. "Thank you so much for everything that you have done, Doctor Mannings. I can't begin to express my gratitude for your work."

"There is one thing I left out, Peter."

Mary Jane frowned. The doctor's tone was not very pleasant. A very large part of her wanted to clamp her hands over Peter's ears, and prevent him from hearing whatever was coming. She did not want him to have to feel anymore pain. It was a very matronly feeling. She grasped his hand tighter, silently willing all of her strength into his being.

"The boiling liquid burned her eyes. Your aunt may never see again."

--

Harry could not remember a thing. He had awoken completely naked on his bed, sprawled in a spread eagle position. His limbs were shaking and he was sweating. There was something severely wrong.

All he could remember was sitting in his chair, being tormented by the voice behind the mask. There was nothing else. It was just the mask, and him.

The mask was his existence.