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Oh and no I don't own anything to do with Spiderman!
3 months later.
"Just what do you think you were doing Mr. Parker?"
The voice echoed in Peter's head. He looked up from the wooden table in the cold, dark and metallic room. The atmosphere was thick with anger, hate and aggression, perhaps left behind by the room's previous inhabitants. Did everyone feel this way when they were trapped here? Is anger, hate and aggression what you always feel when you are arrested?
Peter Benjamin Parker; the nice boy next door had been arrested. What a funny notion. You wouldn't have read that in my school year book he thought!
Peter Parker: Massive troublemaker, violent tendencies, rude, under achiever.
Most likely profession: Thug
No he was quite the opposite. He could recall exactly what was written in his yearbook. He had read it over again, at first in a sense of achievement, which slowly turned into boredom. He had nothing better to read when barely anyone had signed personal messages of farewell in it.
Peter Parker: Intelligent and well presented young man. Top in science for the past four years. Expect big things from him.
Most likely profession: Physicist, Nobel Prize winner.
But that was then and this was now. In previous altercations with the police he had managed to avoid capture as he was in his Spiderman gear. Today though he couldn't. He was plain civilian Peter Parker. He had neglected to put his costume on when he went out, as he had plenty of other things on his mind, ever since Aunt May and Mary Jane who...
It pained him to keep thinking it. Those thoughts riled him over and over again to the point of agony. Why?
"Well, Mr Parker? asked Sgt. Johnston of NYPD. His voice broke Peter's train of thought in half and out came spewing was the situation he was in. "He may press charges you know?"
"I know," said Peter finally breaking his silence." I just wanted to help that's all."
"Help? You managed to get their belongings back but you broke that scumbags nose and cracked a couple of ribs.
He hated to admit it, but he had lost his cool in a bad way. He was on his way back from handing in a few so-so pictures to the Bugle when he witnessed a middle-aged couple being mugged. He was never one to not help anyone and so rushed over to assist. With or without his Spider-costume he still had abilities to help people. Unfortunately his over eagerness coupled with his frustration of the past couple of months events made him lose control when tackling the thug. He could have taken him out with a quarter of his strength but instead he almost went the full hog on him, as if he was fighting the Green Goblin or Doctor Octopus. Unfortunately for Peter he was caught in the act by the police in a patrol car. They had no choice but to arrest the thug and Peter.
"So you just expect me to stand around and do nothing to help," Peter insisted, trying to justify his actions.
"No, and you know I'm not saying that. I asking you to realise that when something's done, it's done. You're as bad as them if you don't know how to control your aggression son."
Peter's face fell. He knew he had done wrong. He regretting snapping but...
A knock on the interview room door.
In the room came a colleague of Sgt. Johnston. He pulled him aside and quietly spoke a few words and then left the room a minute or two later. Peter wondered what it was all about and was about to be answered without even asking.
"I understand you've had a few problems recently. I'm very sorry to hear about your lost Peter."
Peter hated the way he used his first name. It was if he was trying to be more relaxed and personal with him and trying to understand what he felt like.
Nobody knew what he felt like.
He had kept it all bottled up inside, but inadvertently released some of that feeling tonight.
"Don't please," said Peter not wanting him to go any further. He knew sympathy was coming and truth be known, he was damn right sick of it.
"Okay Peter look," his voice changed tone to one of ease. "I'm going to let you off on this okay. I know you were only doing what you thought was right. I would probably have done something similar if I was in you position, but please keep you anger in check. I don't want to be hauling your ass in here one day for something else. Understood?"
Peter nodded. "Yeah, thank you"
As Peter walked down the police station corridor he saw the couple he had helped out. Feeling guilty for his overly violent actions he went to apologise.
"Hi," he said quietly.
"Hi," said the male a bit gingerly. Peter could tell he was still shaken up from the ordeal, whether it was because of the mugging or of his violent actions he couldn't tell. He had his suspicions.
"I'm sorry for my actions," he declared. "I hope you are okay and your possessions aren't damaged."
"Thank you," spoke the woman. "Thank you for your help."
"Not a problem," he said and went to stick out his hand to shake hers. Both the couple flinched.
Ouch. He knew why. He hadn't realised just how awkward and unnerving them seeing him let loose must have been. He didn't know how to take it.
"Umm... okay," was all he could muster as he walked by them out of the station.
Had it really come to this? Was he so over come with angst and sadness that he had become someone for people to fear? Puny Parker? He continued to walk along the street until he came to a bench where he promptly seated himself. The flickering light of the lamppost next to it brought him in and out of illumination. Peter leaned back and arched his neck. He didn't like who he was at the moment. People had been sympathetic to him and had tried to help. Betty, Robbie, Jill, Harry. Even J Jonah Jameson and Flash Thompson! He couldn't understand it. He always felt he was a strong person, but it dawned on him he wasn't as much as he thought so. He knew he had to get out of this rut somehow. But not tonight. His eyes cast a spell of tears as grief took him once more.
Aunt May was dead.
Mary Jane was in a coma.
That day back in August was harsh to say the least. Fate liked to play wicked games and it did this day. As the saying goes – Lightning always strikes twice. But in no way didn't Peter expect the two biggest thunderbolts to come crashing down around him. As soon as he had heard Aunt May was rushed to the hospital, he left M.J. and went as fast as he could throughout the city as Spiderman, so to speak. To save time he just whipped on his mask and was on his way. His swinging was so erratic and his jumping lacked his usual finesse but he didn't care. As long as he got to Aunt May a soon as possible. He wasn't going to lose her. He wouldn't. He couldn't bare the thought of losing both her an Uncle Ben. Within ten minutes he was there rushing through the hospital entrance and towards Aunt May's room. As he turned into it there was no one there but a doctor about to walk out removing her stethoscope.
"Can I help you?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah, my aunt, May Parker. Do you know where she is? I got call from a nurse saying she had been found collapsed and bought in."
"I'm sorry...," she paused not knowing what to call him.
"Peter."
"Would you like to take seat?" indicating to two seats by the rooms entrance. He complied even though his mind began to fill with dread.
"There is no easy way of saying this Peter, but your Aunt May is... dead."
A glacier of ice swept over Peter's body as he took the news in. Dead. His head started to shake. "No, no, how, what?"
"Just age I'm afraid. Time has a horrible way of catching up with us. It was peaceful and she wasn't in pain. We did everything we could but it was just her time. I'm sorry."
Tears began to show in his eyes. "I think I'd like to be left alone now if that's okay?" his voice trembling with sadness.
"Sure Peter, just ask for Dr. Kochanski when you're ready to speak some more." She left the room quietly shutting the door behind her making sure Peter wouldn't be disturbed. As soon as it shut the tears trickled and then poured. His aunt, his mother for so many years, dead. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to. He would never get the chance to tell her how much he appreciated what she had done for him. As soon as the tears started to subside his fiancée came to mind. He realised he had better get in contact and left the room with his face hung low. He went to reach for his mobile phone but realised they weren't allowed to be used within the hospital. So he reached the nearest payphone in the hospital and dialled her number.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
He then realised he could hear the ring coupled with her ring-tone, Summer Loving from Grease, her favourite musical. He turned around expecting to see her behind him. He was almost knocked off his feet as two ambulance medics and a couple of Doctors where pushing along an injured person on a medical bed. To his horror he realised the ringing was coming from the person on the bed. He dropped the phone and caught up with the injured party. He could just make out M.J.'s red hair throughout all the bandages and people around her.
"Oh my God, Mary Jane. MARY JANE!" He started to push the bed along with the medics and doctors.
"Who are you?" asked one of them.
"I'm her fiancé," he quickly fired back. "Peter Parker. How is she, what happened?"
"She's stable at the moment Mr. Parker. As far as we know she was run over as she went to hail a taxi. We will let you know more as soon as we do," the Doctor said realising they were almost at the entrance to the ER As they went in, Peter stood helpless and overcome with grief and turmoil. His statue- like posture could tell a thousand heart felt words.
Lighting struck twice.
It was another hour and half before a doctor came to see him to let him know she was stable but in a coma, for how long they didn't know. Three months later she was still in it and Peter was grief ridden and not to mention riddled with guilt for leaving M.J. when he went to see Aunt May. Now, as he sat on the bench his memories haunted him as he clung to the hope M.J. would come out of the coma. He lost one of his rocks and he was determined not to lose the other.