Peter slapped against the wall and hung there for a moment, his blood racing, his mind whirling. His first instinct had been to race to the Stacy house and—stand guard, or something.

"My home away from home," Peter murmured to himself, looking across the street at the library. If he didn't study, his grades would reflect that; much of the time he had spent away from schoolwork over the semester was justified by a hard push at the end, getting good grades on the final to pull up his GPA.

Web snapped out of his wrist, hissing across the open space, and he flung himself away from safety. His body sliced through the air and snapped into the wall. Crawling swiftly and silently he approached an upper window and stuck to it. He tugged, snapping the simple latch. He was in the library.

He scrambled down the window and dropped to the balcony, then stepped to the edge and looked down over the vast room. He dropped from the balcony to the floor, then padded around to the very back of the resource section and tugged his backpack from where he had hidden it that afternoon. He carried it to the table, unzipped it, snapped on the lamp on the table, and sighed as he began to pull slabs of textbook out of his bag.

"Isn't this heroic," he muttered. At the bottom of the bag were his crumpled street clothes. He pulled them out, shook them and tried to smooth some of the more offensive wrinkles out, then dragged them on over his mesh. He sat, sighed, and cracked his Physics II book.

His mind was still whirling, and as he glanced at the page his mind did not register the words. He sighed, put his head on the book, and whispered "can we please not do this, brain?"

Once again, those close to him were endangered by his web slinging.

"I know," he whispered. "I'll make it right. But tonight I have to study."

The clock on the wall read one o'clock when he started taking notes.

xXx

Peter walked up to where Gwen was sitting on the bench. "Hey there, pretty lady. Missed you in Chem II."

"Oh, Peter, hi," she said, turning to face him with a startled jump. Their eyes met, and Peter saw in her eyes a change; a flash of realization? Something. She smiled a guilty smile.

"What's up?" Peter said. "Not like you to miss class."

"Maybe I just happen to skip all the same days you do, or even half of them," she said with her eyebrows raised, not making eye contact.

Peter's heart froze in that moment.

"Where did you get that amulet?" he asked breathlessly, pointing at the metal disc hanging from her neck. It was about the size of a palm, with wedges cut out of the top and the bottom so it had two sharp tines at either end. Its surface was greasy looking and hypnotic, pearlescent gray black.

"It's mine," she said casually. "I got it last night."

"Where?" Peter repeated.

"At the mall."

"What, at Spencers?"

"No," she said. "What's with the cross examine? I got it from one of those peddler guys with the pushcart booths."

Peter looked at her hard for a moment. "Can I look at it?" he asked.

Her brow furrowed. "Not after being so rude to me, Mister Parker. God, you're a heel." She stood up, spun on her heel, and strode away.

Peter watched her go, his heart still cold. "Forgot your book bag," he said under his breath. He picked it up and stood watching her walk away. She did not look back. Fear he could not explain gripped Peter. The Owl's amulet. On Gwen. Peter shivered and wondered what that could mean.

"Definitely time to return this bag," Peter muttered. He hefted her book bag and took off towards the Stacy house at a trot.

xXx

Glancing around, Peter pretended not to notice the large man that stood at the corner, barely in view of the Stacy house. The big man saw him and smiled, but made no move to stop him. Great. The Stacys were under surveillance.

Peter bounced up the steps to the Stacy house and knocked on the door. A few moments later, the door opened and Peter was face to face with John Stacy.

"Afternoon, Captain," Peter said. "Gwen forgot her book bag at school. I thought I'd bring it by." He flashed a winning smile. "Finals next week; she'll need this to study."

"Indeed," the Captain smiled. "Come on in."

Peter followed him in to the den. "Have a seat, son," the Captain said. He sat behind his big desk and Peter took a seat in a chair in front of it. "Something's on your mind, Parker."

"I'm worried, Captain," Peter said frankly. "Gwen's not acting like herself today. And she has a new piece of jewelry, an amulet. I don't know where it came from, but I don't like it."

"Probably intensifies UV rays," the Captain said sagely. "Now how about you tell me what's really going on, young man. Your call yesterday was absurd. I believe you're a reasonably bright, mentally organized person and you were trying to get an idea across. Fill me in."

Peter blinked.

Opened his mouth.

Shut it.

Thought fast.

"Okay," he said. "I'm a bit nervous because I saw some low-life thugs hanging around your house yesterday. I thought maybe your interest in the case had attracted the attention of the thieves from the antique house job. Go look for yourself. There's a neckless guy leaning up against the lamp post across the street. He has an ear piece for a tac net."

John nodded. "Let's go look." They went to the dining room and watched through the gauzy curtain.

The street was empty except for Gwen. She took the steps two at a time and banged into the entryway.

"Parker," she snapped, "give me my books."

"They're in the den," John said. "It's alright."

"Alright?" she snarled. "This cad took my book bag. I looked for it for half an hour, Peter. Why did you take my book bag?" Her eyes flared, furious, and her voice took a hysterical tinge.

"I thought you left it accidentally," Peter said, taking a step back and raising his hands. "I didn't mean to—"

"Get out!" she shouted. "Get out of my house! Out!" Peter and John stood wide eyed, staring at her. She took two strides, grabbed Peter by the front of his shirt, and hurled him toward the door. "Get out of my house, Parker! Get out until you can figure out where you slept last night!" And with that and a final shove, Peter stumbled down the stairs as the door slammed behind him.

Oh no.

If Gwen called Aunt May—then called Harry—and couldn't find him!

Oh no. She couldn't think—

Her flaring green eyes watching him coldly through the glass on the door told him she just might.

He turned and walked away, head down, mind racing. This was not good. Still, an outburst like that was not like her.

His heart sank as he wondered if maybe it was; when she felt she had been cheated on. And still, again, he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth about where he had been.

Down the street and around the corner, a big man smiled to himself.

xXx

"What was all that about?" John asked his daughter. She whirled to look at him, nostrils flared, blood racing.

"I was out last night at the mall, and I was picking up a few things, and this man said he knew where Peter was, then he just smiled and walked away. So I get home, and call Aunt May looking for Peter. She said he was spending the night at Harry's place. So I call Harry. Harry's at a chemistry lock-in studython at school. So I swing by. Nobody's seen or heard from Parker, even though he said he'd be there, agreed to it two weeks ago. So where is Peter? You're the detective, Dad, and it's your fault I'm curious. Deduct away." Her tone was bitter.

"Are you quite sure," John said, inspecting his fingernails, "that you aren't overreacting a bit?"

She stared at him for a long moment. "He's never there when I need him, Dad," she said slowly. "What's a girl to think?" she turned and walked up the stairs and disappeared around the corner.

He watched her go, his eyes thoughtful. Then he shook his head. "Supper in thirty minutes, if you're hungry," he called up the stairs. Then he returned to the den. A glance at the clock told him it was just after five. He sat in his chair for a moment, looking at the empty seat Parker had been in earlier. "Hm." he said. Then he shook his head, went into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator.

Behind him, a light step on the carpet.

"Change your mind about supper?" he asked.

xXx

Peter stopped. "This is stupid," he said. He turned and started walking back. "I care about the Stacys, and I trust them. I'll just tell them I went to see the Owl, that I was doing my evening exercises as a spider ghost and I ran across a burglary. Last night after I went to see the Owl I broke in to a library to study. Then when Gwen's amulet turned up I knew the Owl had gotten to her so it freaked me out, and the best thing to do now is to get that damned thing and toss it in the ocean. Yeah. I'll just come right out with it."

Fear coursed through him, thicker than his blood. "Heh," he said. "Stage fright. Give me a thug fest any day."

He came around the corner and saw the Owl's big man with a camcorder, recording the view through the Stacy's front window into the dining room. His senses kicked into overdrive.

No. Impossible.

Peter launched himself down the street and went airborne, smashing into the thug. The camcorder went flying, smacking down on the pavement and spinning, bits of glass and plastic skittering every direction. The big man was knocked off his feet then rammed between Peter and the lamp post that he had been standing ten feet away from. He buckled without a fight. Peter sprinted.

In the dining room, Captain Stacy stood up from digging in the fridge.

Behind him stood Gwen. Her eyes. They were so empty. So cold.

She raised the pair of scissors as Peter leaped through the air—

Captain Stacy caught movement from the corner of his eye and turned to see Peter launch off the ground and come crashing through the glass as the scissors whipped down and drove into the flesh between Captain Stacy's shoulderblades, grating off bone then digging deep.

He managed a sound between a cough and a scream as the scissors plunged in to the hinge, four inches of wicked steel sunk into the meat of his back. Peter whirled past him and caught Gwen, tossing her to the side. She bounced off the wall, and squared off with him.

For just a moment, things went hazy for Peter and he stumbled; she sailed in and planted a fist square in his chest. Startled, he felt a peculiar power surge through her arm, and he flew back; he whizzed out of the dining room, across the entryway, and smashed through the door to the music room. He lay on the floor and sputtered for a moment.

The gray haze at the edge of his vision had faded. He realized that the amulet was helping Gwen, making her stronger and faster. Not stronger and faster enough. He rolled to his feet, shrugging off the blow, and bounded to the kitchen.

John gripped the amulet and yanked it off the chain that held it around her neck, the snapped links flying, as she plunged the scissors into his chest again, again. They both collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

Peter stood trembling for a moment, unable to take in what was happening. Then his mind had it all worked out before the numbness wore off. He snatched the phone and punched in 911. He rattled off the address and requested an ambulance, then dropped the phone without hanging up. Scooping up Gwen, he dashed upstairs and slipped out the window, fired out web, and swung into the night.

"Come on, Doc, be home," Peter whispered as his webs carried himself and his passenger towards Greenwich Village. "This is just too damn weird."

xXx

A light tapping on the glass of the intricately designed skylight roused the Doctor from his reverie. He glanced up to see Peter Parker clinging to the roof holding a woman. "Downstairs," he murmured, standing and striding towards the door of his Sanctum Sanctorum. Parker dropped out of sight.

Doctor Strange met him at the door. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Can I come in?" Peter asked, his eyes a little wild. Strange stood aside and gestured, and Peter dragged the limp girl in with him.

Strange shut the door. "Please explain."

Peter caught his breath. "Okay, this is my girlfriend Gwen, Gwen, Doc Strange, Strange, Gwen. So I go back to the house after she kicks me out and she's stabbing her dad with scissors and then things get a little gray and she whacks me, whoom, through the door, then the amulet is grabbed and—"

"Amulet?" Strange said.

Peter stopped, blinked. "Let me try that again," he said. "First can we put her somewhere?"
"Upstairs," Strange said curtly.

When she was arranged on the bed and Peter had a small cup of tea, Strange bent over Gwen.

"She is sleeping," he murmured. "A dark force has released her. She will recover in an hour or two." He looked at Peter. "There should be a talisman of some sort; a bracelet, a necklace—"

"An amulet," Peter said decisively. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. "Like this." He sketched it out, with the two tines on top and the two on the bottom and the wedges cut out on the sides. "Wicked looking thing."

"Appearances do not deceive," Strange said, his face dark. "This is most unfortunate. I know this piece. If it has fallen into the wrong hands, it must be retrieved before further damage can be done. Where is the amulet now?"

Peter opened his mouth, then winced. "Last I saw Captain Stacy grabbed it. He's on his way to the hospital. He might have dropped it at the house."

Strange's eyes unfocused slightly, then his scowl deepened. "He is at the hospital, and he has the amulet. We have no time to waste." He shrugged on his red coat and headed for the stairs.

"What does the amulet do aside from grant some distraction, speed, and power?" Peter called after him as they hurried down the stairs.

"The amulet is called the Wings of Needless Sorrow," Strange said curtly as they moved through the front door and headed for Strange's sleek car. "When its power is invoked and targeted, it causes people to do their best to take the lives of those they hold most dear." He fired up the car as Peter hopped in, then they were roaring through traffic.

"Oh," Peter said in a small voice.

"Now," Strange said, "if you'll keep an eye on the Captain then I'll return to the house and watch over Gwen. Seems they have a powerful enemy. Once I've got the amulet in my possession and I'm assured that Captain Stacy is not tainted by its power, then we will be out of the woods."

"Sounds good," Peter said. "Thanks for your help."

The doctor said nothing, and Peter was not even sure he heard.

It took twenty minutes to get to the hospital. Before they were fully parked the two were out and moving to the emergency room.

Peter, running behind Strange, saw his red coat shift to a white one, saw the stethoscope around his neck as an afterthought. He blinked and pretended he hadn't seen anything unusual.

Strange trotted up to the desk of the nurse on duty. "Retired Police Captain John Stacy was just brought here. I need to see him."

The nurse nodded. "Of course, doctor. Let's see. He was in berth 18."

"Was?" Strange said, checking himself before he left the desk.

"Oh yes. He was fine," nodded the nurse brightly. "Just a little bump on the head and a couple shallow cuts."

"But you did take a blood sample," the doctor pressed.

"Yes, before we knew he was alright," the nurse replied.

"Bring it to me. I need to run a test on it," Strange said, looking deep into her eyes. Something in her expression went limp, and she mechanically walked back to get the blood sample.

"What does this mean?" Peter asked, knowing the answer.

Strange ignored him, reaching for the tube the returning nurse handed to him. His eyes unfocused, and he uncorked the sample tube and dripped the blood onto the pristine white counter.

Three drops fell, spattering; Peter gasped as he saw that their splash pattern was identical to the outline of the amulet…

"We have no time to waste," Strange said. "Captain Stacy is in the thrall of the amulet now, and with the power it gives him he can ignore his wounds and be a very dangerous man indeed. Once he has completed the task it gives him he will be released to wallow in the grief his act will bring him. He must be stopped."

"Where is he?" Peter asked.

Strange said nothing for a moment. Peter's eyes widened. Kill the one most dear to you.

Gwen.

"Let's go!" Peter said.

"No, not two of us," Strange said. "It is your task to stop him."

"What are you doing then?" Peter asked quickly.

Strange narrowed his eyes. "I need to find the one that unleashed this force on the world and make sure he can't do anything this rash again. Who and where was the one responsible for this? Do you know?"

"He's called the Owl," Peter began, and Strange listened intently.

xXx

Gwen woke with a start. Outside, distant thunder rumbled. She blinked, looked around, blinked again.

"Dad?" she said, her voice uncertain. She managed to push herself up off the bed, and she looked around the musty room, smelling peculiar ancient spicy smells. Heavy drapes covered the window, and the door to what looked like a hallway was open slightly.

"Dad?" she repeated, as a memory

flashed

she started to tremble. "Dad!" she said. She looked down, saw the blood on her hands.

Downstairs, a door slammed.

Her heart beat rapidly, and it was hard to breathe. She stood trembling, listening, motionless as she heard a slow heavy tread come up the stairs. Her voice failed her.

With a slow creak, the door to the room drifted open, and she saw a familiar figure in the dimness of the hall. Outside, a police car howled by, and by the dancing light it cast up into the room she caught a glimpse of her father.

Relief died stillborn in her chest, cold and terrifying; his eyes were not his own.

"Hello, Gwendy," he rasped. "You have the right to remain silent." His smile widened, and his teeth almost glowed in the dimness.

She saw the amulet hooked on his jacket pocket like a badge…

Another door out of the bedroom. Gwen lunged for it, threw it open, dashed through, terror galvanizing her and sending her hurling into the adjoining room in the suite.

"I'm about to give you all the rights you'll ever need," came the hauntingly familiar alien voice from behind her. She couldn't even scream.

Then he began to laugh, a sound that swelled through the empty house like a living thing. She battered the locked door, sobs erupting with her breath.

He cut off her escape.