Author's Notes: Heh…would you believe me if I said I had writer's block? :)
I didn't think so… But I have been rather busy lately trying to get all my college applications finished. Now that I'm finally done all I have to do is wait until March to find out if I've been accepted…joy.
Anyway, many thanks to all my reviewers. You guys are awesome. Sorry this took so long.
Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.
Chapter 2: Haunted
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I drove for miles and miles
And wound up at your door
I've had you so many times but somehow
I want more
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It seems no matter what I do, it all comes back to Mary Jane, in one way or another. It's because I was taking pictures of her that the spider bit me in the first place, it was to impress her that I lied, and ultimately, cost Uncle Ben his life, and it's because of my desire to protect her that I can't be with her.
It's all so ironic.
What's worse, I can't get her out of my head. She's haunting me.
I don't know how much more I can take.
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From my perch on the top of the darkened building, I can see almost everything in the city.
A variety of colors light up the ground below, drawing long shadows and obscuring countless faces, countless people, countless truths about the difficulty of living in a big city, or anywhere, for that matter. Life is no easy thing. But from up here, everything looks so simple. Maybe that's why I'm so drawn to this location above the city. Why I continue to do what I do. Yes, it's my responsibility, but at the same time, when I'm up here, I'm not thinking about whether I'm going to make next months rent, or whether I'm doing the right thing bywalking away from loved ones, from Mary Jane. I'm sort of detached from all that drama. Up here, I simply watch, guard.
There's something truly amazing about the view. I wonder if maybe this is how God feels. Not that I'm comparing myself with God, mind you. No one can fill his shoes, certainly not me… not after everything that's happened with Uncle Ben, Mr. Osborn…
Realizing thoughts like these are exactly what I came up here to get away from, I turn my focus back to the city.
Cars crowd the streets, even at this late hour. (I often wonder where everybody's going all the time, and why they're insuch a hurry to be there.) People drift in and out of shops and alleyways, laugh loudly with one another, carelessly flaunt their possessions. And then those same people get robbed, threatened, or worse.
My work is never done.
As if on cue, a cry comes up from the streets below. Figures. Duty calls.
Under the cover of darkness, in a side alley, a gruff man, grossly unclean, holds a frightened woman against the red brick wall of the alley. His hands are a dirty black against the white skin of the woman's throat, as though he's an auto mechanic who spends his days working on engines (though I doubt seriously that he's been working engines with those hands, present company included). Clutched in the palm of those said hands is a rusty knife. This shouldn't be too hard…
"Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"
In response, the assailant turns, mildly surprised, but looks up only long enough to threaten: "You mess with me, Spidey, and I'll put you out of your misery!" before turning back to the woman. Like I've never heard that before…
"Promise?" I return.
Then he proceeds to do what every criminal known to man would do in the same situation (it's like there's a book on it somewhere!), and he shifts his position so he's behind the woman, using her as a shield, knife still at her throat.
"Oh god…no, oh, god…" the woman repeats over and over, but I pay no attention to her. Luckily, the thug's unoriginality works to my advantage; I'm prepared for it.
Hence, I resolve the situation fairly quickly.
It's only after the guy's hanging by his wrists that I turn to face the woman, only now able to really notice her…
Oh, god! Mary Jane!
I stagger backwards, taken off guard. What's she doing here?! She reacts, as well, thinking I'm hurt.
"Spider-Man, are you okay?"
It takes me a minute to recover, and when I do, I realize what should have been obvious from the start. I was wrong. She's not really MJ, but for a moment… for a moment she was. Or at least, my mind convinced me she was.
Heart still pounding from my mental lapse, I'm only able to nod before I can't take the situation any longer. I swing up and as far away as possible.
What's the matter with me? Now I'm seeing her everywhere…? That can't be good. I'm going to have a mental breakdown right here in the streets of downtown New York.
The only sense I can make out of the whole situation is that it's my own fault. I am my own worst enemy. I can defeat any villain that comes my way, including the terror that was the Green Goblin, but I can't quell my own conscience.
I've been feeling so guilty about leaving MJ, and not knowing how or what she's doing that I'm imagining her in a horrible situation.
The only solution then, would be to check on her, make sure she's okay. I mean, I promised her I'd always take care of her, right?
I swing to her apartment, but to avoid giving my presence away, I move to the building across the street from hers. I can see her room well enough. The lights are on, but nobody moves inside. I don't know how long I wait, unmoving, before I catch a glance of her, but it feels like an eternity.
Finally, she emerges from another room, brilliant-red hair pulled back, make up removed. I've never seen her look more beautiful. Oblivious of my watchful gaze, she goes about her business of getting ready for bed, like a normal person. I release a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
She's safe. And if not being with her means she'll stay that way… then I guess it's worth it. The right thing to do.
So, why does it feel so wrong?
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End part two. There's only like one more chapter after this, and it's already partially written, so hopefully you won't have to wait as long for an update.:) Yay. Review!