Hey, look, everybody - proof that the author is actually alive! . . . Beleive me, I wanted to get this up much sooner, but when I was about to post it I realized how badly it needed edited. This may not be the best chapter, but I hope it surprises you! And the more reviews the better! (I'd also like to thank my two loyal readers right now.)


Chapter Four - Past and Present

- 1:30 pm - Serafina's point of view -

Nothing like being two miles up in the sky. Slowly, aimlessly, I circle around New York City. Not caring where I end up, I go over my life.

My earliest memories are of me when I was three years old, in the basement of our large victorian-styled home on the coast of Maine. I had to stay out of sight - away from windows and such - so the basement was like a house in itself. I was looked after collectively by Edith, a plump maid with graying hair and powdery white skin; Max, an expert computer technician; Eddie, the skinny black cook in his forties; Dawn, my personal seamstress and Edith's helper; and Matt, a retired Doctor.

By the time I was four I had officially decided blue was my favorite color, and insisted my room be painted accordingly. Max, being the youngest guy, had to paint, and I tried to 'help'. In other words the carpet needed to be replaced. I smile at that a bit as I cruise above New York.

Around 5 and 6 years of age I figured out how to fly, and Matt nearly had to tie me to the ground. Somehow, I lived through my trial and error sessions. Even more amazing is that my adoptive family lived through all the stress. A few lamps and ceramics, however, did not survive.

When I turned 7 Matt and Max started a sort of training regimen with me. Matt explained how I was different. Very different. So, in case I ever got in trouble, he wanted me to be able to defend myself.

10 years old. Within the three years of training I could actually beat up Max. And since he was sort of like an older brother to me, I had plenty of opportunity for that.

Over the years other people came over (highly trustable ones, of course) from time to time to help in my training, or just to see how I was doing.

And what can I say, I snuck out of the house numerous times. All it takes is a hat and a coat. I really only started doing that by the time I was 13, though. (I didn't dare leave when I couldn't defend myself. Matt was always worrying that I'd get hurt, and I'm no dummy.) No human can knowingly and willing stay away from the outside world, I suppose. I chatted with others online, but the World Wide Web can't do everything.

And finally these past few months... Preparing for the trip to the White House. Flying to the White House. And never getting there. I feel horrible about it. It is, by far, the worst thing that has ever happened to me. But I'm going to go on with life, I've still got people who love me, and friends here in New York. Man, the guys back at home must be worried about me. Maybe they think I'm dead. I've got to call them.

If I can find my blasted suitcase, which I really don't want to have to look at, I'll be able to get my coat, hat, and some money to call at a payphone. Not to mention I'll be able to stop at a mini mart to use the bathroom.

I wheel around, now flying against the wind, and start heading back to where I started, thanks to my uncanny sense of direction.

- 1:45 pm - Peter Parker's Point of view -

On the doorstep of Harry's place I knock on the door. After a moment Bernard opens the huge carved-wood door that leads into the illustrious Osbourne estate. Bernard looks me up and down critically, then does the same to MJ.

"What can I do for you, sir?" he asks, shifting his gaze back to me.

"I was wondering if Harry was home."

"He wishes not to be bothered." The large door began to close.

"But I'm his best friend!" Or at least I was.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to come back later."

Mary Jane tries to speak up as well. "We really ne-"

((Tcha-clack))

The door latched shut. I frown and think about just busting the door down and giving the butler a peice of my mind. I knew who he was - but he didn't recognize me. No wonder, really. I hadn't been at Harry's place for quite some time. MJ sighs.

"You really do need to talk to him."

"Just what I was thinking..." I began as we turned and started down the stone steps, taking her hand in mine. "And you know, there's more than one way to visit a friend like Harry."

We went out the iron gate and I led the way towards the back of Harry's lawn. This lawn is far too large, if you ask me. It should be a park, not a lawn.

"What's your plan, Tiger?"

"Find a back way in."

- 1:50 pm - Serafina's point of view -

I'm back to where I started this morning - on top of a run-down building. If the suitcase came down with me, no doubt it would somewhere near where I landed. Picking through the piles of rubbish, I find many useless objects. But there! Half buried under rotting planks of wood, I see the end of a large, black leather suitcase. The skid marks in the dirt on the roof show it must have slammed down, flipped over itself, and then slid along until it rammed into a once neat pile of wood. And of course the avalanche of wood came down on top of it. I scowl, and begin to tug at the edge of the case.

After a couple hard pulls it breaks loose, and the boards re-settle. I look at the luggage with disgust. It looks a bit singed.

"YOU!!" I scream, kicking the suitcase as hard as I can. It flips over, now right side up, and I can see how badly tattered the top left corner is. But that doesn't make me feel any pity for the case. Once more I give it a kick. This time it just slides over against the wall. I grit my teeth a bit and contemplate what I'm doing. My mind begins to clear.

I'm making a lot of noise, and probably damaging whatever I packed. Not good. I've got to stop. And so I walk over to the big black suitcase and grab the telescoping handing in a much more civil manner. Wheeling it over to a debris-free area, I set it back down and kneel by it, unzipping the side.

I look at the contents inside. It's a big case, and I over-packed, but now I'm glad for that. There are changes of clothes, purses, shoes, makeup, money, and my trusty coat and hat. The bag easily could weigh as much as me. I look down at myself, my keen eyesight can tell I'm covered in dust. New York air isn't very clean. I take out the black coat, along with the little black hat that would make me 'normal'. Then I start digging around for some clean clothes. I find a black mini skirt, and match it to a little yellow tank top. I dump the finger nail polish bottles out of my knee high black leather boots, and find some black fishnet stockings. Yep, I musta packed nearly every artical of clothing I own, I think to myself, looking at the huge mound of garments. I suppose it is for the best now, though.

At the bottom of the suitcase I find a black purse; overfilled with girly items thanks to my ready-for-everything style of packing. I reclose the case and set my new outfit on top of it so the clothes won't get dirty. Now... how do I get changed around here? I looked around at the junk surrounding me. A crooked smile plays across my lips as I come up with a plan.

- 1:50 pm - Peter Parker's point of view -

"Okay... how is this going to work again?" MJ questions me for the third time. She keeps bringing up a potential problem every time I tell her the plan. I sigh, How much more simple can it get?

"We cross the hedges, go arond to the back, I climb up the wall, carrying you, and hope Harry is in his office. If he is then we'll go in through the the door to the balcony."

"And what about security cameras? Hired help?"

"MJ, I happen to know that only the Butler will be home right now. And Harry only turns the cameras on at night - his idea of being conservative."

Mary Jane nods. "I didn't know he had ideas."

I roll my eyes. "A few. If he tries really hard."

We come to the hedges at the back of the lot. I start reaching through the pricky bushes, and can feel the chain link fence they hide inside. Slowly I feel my way along, until I get to a section of bush that gives slightly when pressed. "Right here," I motion, showing her the secret doorway in the fence.

"Very clever," MJ comments, slipping through. I squeeze through after her.

Warily, MJ looks around the garden we have entered. "You sure no one will be here?"

"No," I say honestly, and she obviously disapproves. "I'm not entirely sure. Just very-very-very sure."

"Remind me to hurt you later when we aren't sneaking around."

We creep behind bushes, then make a run for the big stone house. After getting to the balcony, we are met by an unlocked door. We tiptoe in.

"Harry? Harry, you here?" I whisper.

MJ gasps. "Look at all that broken glass!" And it is true, broken glass, no, mirror, is all over. And where the floor length mirror should be on the wall, there is a cobwebby tunnel. As I advanced towards the hole, MJ looks over all the scattered newspaper clippings on Harry's deserted desk. Looking away from the hidden doorway, I see something that makes my stomach do a backflip.

"MJ... Harry's dead," I say quietly.

"He's what?!" she whisper-shouts in shock as she tip toes over. Her breath catches as she sees him, face down, lying on the floor behind the couch, pale and unmoving.

For a moment neither of us moved, or spoke.

"No way!" MJ finally says in disbeleif. "He's not really dead, right? He's, he's just sleeping, right?"

"MJ, I know a dead person when I see one," I say gently.

"This is horrible! Why?" She started to walk over to Harry.

"Whatever you do, don't touch him, in fact, try not to touch anything - they'll check this whole place for fingerprints," I said gently.

"So what do we do? Just leave him here?"

"Well, I'm going to take a look in this secret tunnel, MJ, will you please check to see if the door is locked?"

She nods grimly, and heads towards the door while I duck into the dusty passageway. Oh great. I see an all too familiar green mask staring at me, and all the rest of Norman Osbourne's sadistic junk. I was hoping I wouldn't have to tell MJ about this.

"It's locked," Mary Jane calls quietly to me. "Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, I did. MJ... you better come here."

I hear cautious footsteps, and once again there is a moment of scilence thanks to an unsettling truth that has been revealed.