Harry Osborn had disappeared.
He was nowhere. He had gone.
Peter was in a hurry to get home. He had to get back. He finally reached his apartment block, and he swung in through the window.
Mary-Jane was on the floor.
Dead. A knife through her back.
Peter howled, scrambling over and kneeling beside her. Harry's laugh echoed…
Peter sat up with a jolt, waking his wife up. He turned to her, and touched her face in a frenzy, making absolutely sure that she was ok. Finally, he kissed her and pulled her close.
'Peter, what's wrong?' she asked, panicked.
'A dream…Harry was gone…he killed you – wasn't quick enough.' Peter managed to choke out, breathing deeply and leaning back onto the pillow. He took her hand.
'As long as you're ok.' He continued, and stroked her hand reassuringly. Mary-Jane settled down beside him, and fell asleep on his shoulder.