xXx
Peter walked into the police station looking a bit lost and bewildered.
"I need to speak to Detective Brilhart immediately," he said to the woman sitting behind the main desk. "My name is Peter Parker. I accidentally escaped a couple hours ago."
Less than five minutes later, Peter was in a strait jacket handcuffed by his ankles to an interrogation chair that was bolted to the floor in an examination room. Brilhart, Vine, and a handful of SWAT officers stood arrayed against him.
"Please," Peter said. "Give me a chance to explain."
"By all means," Vine said sarcastically, slouching against the wall, "I can't wait to hear this one."
"We're just glad to have you back in custody," Brilhart said seriously. "What's your explanation?"
"If you check the cell," Peter said, "you'll notice that the bars and walls were ripped out from the outside of the cell, not broken from the inside. Furthermore, it should mean something to you that I came back. If I was guilty, you'd better be sure I'd run and not let you catch me. Honestly, guys," he said with very earnest eyes, "if I could bust out of a solitary cell on the third floor and levitate to the ground, do you think I'd let you guys tie me up?"
"So what happened?" Brilhart asked quietly.
Peter sighed. "I heard this sound, a weird whippy sound, then the window was ripped out, then the wall. I leaned over to look, and something black hit me. I don't know what happened next."
"I can't believe this," Vine exploded. "You couldn't even bother comin up with a better cover than that?"
"Truth isn't always as convenient as an alibi," Peter snapped. He looked into Brilhart's eyes. "Can we talk?" he asked, his voice low. "Just us."
Brilhart chewed his lip, considering his options. He glanced at Vine.
"Don't do this, Detective," Vine said harshly. "Don't let this punk jerk you around."
"The prisoner is secure," Brilhart said clearly. "Five minutes. Just wait outside."
"Dammit Brilhart, I'm going to report this," Vine gritted out.
Brilhart smiled at him. "You do that, Detective," he said. "I seem to recall the Commissioner enjoys your little reports a great deal."
"Maybe Internal Affairs will too," Vine grumbled.
"Out," Brilhart said, an edge to his voice. The others left, and Brilhart was alone with Peter.
"Thank you," Peter said. "I was hoping you'd come through for your Special Crimes Unit."
"Parker, I can't fix this for you," Brilhart said quietly.
"I want to be honest with you, Detective," Peter said, watching his eyes. "It's about time. We've been through a lot together."
"I don't want to hear this," Brilhart said uneasily.
"Good," Peter said. "That's why I'm telling you. See, I am the spider ghost. You must have suspected. Right now I'm wounded from fighting the one who was imitating me. He's not dead, but I… I fixed what was wrong with him. He won't be a problem again. You have my word. I am innocent," he said, believing every word and letting the force of his conviction communicate itself to Brilhart. "I just couldn't be sure I wasn't under some kind of hypnosis or something until he broke me out and I fought him."
"I believe that you're innocent, but this is going to have to come out in court," Brilhart said.
"You find a suspect and have a trial, I'll testify," Peter said. "But please. I don't want to be that suspect."
Brilhart thought that over, then shook his head. "There's murder in it this time," he said.
"I'm not asking you to turn a blind eye to the case," Peter said earnestly. "In fact, I'll help you recover the stolen goods. I've got some solid leads on that. All I'm saying is, you'll have to investigate it without my help. And Brilhart. Please. Let me go. Let me post bail. I'm not an escape risk. I came here tonight to prove it. Believe me when I tell you I could be in Brazil by now."
Brilhart leaned back against the wall, his mind working as he looked at Peter Parker. The door to the room burst open and Vine strode in, chin out, defiant.
"That was a fast five minutes," Brilhart said.
"Wasn't it?" Brilhart snapped. "You know as well as I do that this guy is the freak that pulled the robberies. We caught him with the goods in his apartment for God's sake. He is our guy. What did the lab turn up?"
Peter's blood ran cold and his breath froze in his chest.
Brilhart picked Peter's folder up from the table. "See for yourself," he said mildly, handing the folder to Vine.
Vine stared at the pages, slowly flipping through. "This can't be right," he said. "No way this is right. Take another sample."
"Vine," Brilhart said quietly, "give it up. You've pegged the wrong guy." He looked at Peter. "I think we've learned enough here. We're letting him go." He smiled wryly at Peter. "Just don't leave town, okay?"
"I can't believe this," Vine grunted furiously. "I can't believe it."
The paperwork got rolling. Peter started breathing again.
xXx
Harry stood by the floor length windows, looking out over the slow pulse of New York in the wee hours of the morning. Behind him, there was a snap hiss and a wash of light. He didn't turn.
"Hey, Harry," Peter said.
"I was waiting up for you," Harry said. "So are you still Peter Parker?"
"Believe it or not, I got it all sorted out," Peter said as he joined Harry at the window. "This is a hell of a view."
"You can still say that when you've seen it from the roof?" Harry said wryly.
Peter nodded. "Still can," he said. He glanced at Harry. "I still haven't lost my sense of wonder," he added with a bit of a grin.
"Maybe I've gained some of mine back," Harry said. He took a pull on his cigarette. Shook his head. "I never guessed at how hard it might be to be you," he said quietly. "Just never grasped it. I think I understand you a lot better now. What it takes to be you. I don't envy you your power," he said, looking at Peter. "I envy you the way you use it." He licked his lips, looking back out the window. "I'm ashamed of myself."
"I'm sorry you got pulled into this," Peter said, putting a hand on his good shoulder. "I really am. That's one of the things that has haunted me since I got this power. People around me become targets. This time was a lot worse than the car crash, huh."
"I'm just trying to figure out how to find my way back," Harry mused as he watched the ceaseless rush of the city far below his penthouse suite. "How do I repay you for saving me from… from what I could have been?"
"I have an idea for a start," Peter said. He glanced around, then eased himself down on an overstuffed chair. "I just came from the police station. I had a frank discussion with Detective Brilhart. Told him I could recover some of the stolen goods."
"I know where all of it is but the jewelry I gave you," Harry said.
"So just return it. Subtly. Anonymously. Be sure to get fingerprints off and all that," Peter said.
"Done," Harry nodded.
"Then there's the matter of the broken wall."
"An anonymous donation?" Harry asked.
"Should do it," Peter shrugged. "Here's the sticky part. Brilhart told me that he couldn't just make this disappear, which I understand. One of the main reasons? This time there was a murder."
Harry thought back, then shivered. "One of the guards at the Brinks truck," he breathed.
"Right," Peter nodded.
"I'll see to it that the family is comfortable," Harry said, flexing his jaw as he looked out over the city. "That's the right thing to do." He turned to Peter. "Does that satisfy your sense of justice? Does that make things right between us?"
"Almost," Peter said. "What happened between you and Mary Jane?"
Harry let out a sigh, and sat in a chair opposite Peter. He put his face in his hands, rubbing gently at his eyes. For a long moment, he didn't say anything.
"I won't say the darkstone made me do it," he said quietly. "The urge was mine. But it was amplified by the… the voice in my head. It was so hard to control. It was like being a teenager again, only a lot worse and backed up by an adult life." He sighed. "I tried to make Mary Jane come home with me. To prove I was better than you in every way. It was this raging obsession. Now that the stone is gone, I can vaguely remember the intensity, but…" He shrugged. "I was about to do something horrible. Tandy rescued her, and I was mad enough to go after you directly."
"Did you hurt her?" Peter asked evenly.
"Not physically," Harry said. "I don't know if our friendship will survive it."
"Mary Jane is a tough woman," Peter said. "Time will tell. Thanks for being honest. I needed that from you." He stood. "If I could have somehow kept you from being infested with that thing, you know I would have."
Harry nodded. "I know. And as horrible as it was, I'm glad it happened. Now at least I know the truth. And I know what I'm missing," he added with a wry smile. "I can't believe you thought you could just tell me you were socially inept and clumsy and that would be the end of my curiosity."
"At least I'm not a hit man, like you thought," Peter grinned.
"Seriously," Harry said, "is there anything I can do to repay you for the trouble I caused?"
"Be your own man, Harry," Peter said as he looked into his friend's eyes. "That will be more than enough." The moment hung between them like a silent pact. Then Peter grinned. "Hey, I'm starving. Want to go to Golden's? My treat. And they're still open."
Harry just laughed at him. "How about I pick up the tab for this one," he said. "I've been saving up."
"Well, okay," Peter said as they headed for the elevator. "As long as you don't have to break the piggy bank."
They left the apartment as friends.
xXx
Vine scowled at the monitors, jaw clamped shut. Brilhart tapped at the keyboard, writing up a report.
"Go ahead, say it," Brilhart said, his voice weary.
"I compared the blood samples from the mall with the blood samples from the Roth Hall incident. It's the same guy, Brilhart." He had the sullen sound of an unjustly scolded child.
"Yeah," Brilhart said with a sigh. "Same guy."
"Somebody monkeyed with the blood sample. Peter Parker doesn't have some wacky pal. It's him. I'm sure," Brilhart said. "I want another blood test."
Brilhart leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Then he stood and walked around to look over Vine's shoulder at the grainy security camera images. Two lithe figures fighting for their lives, tearing up the store.
"Looks like a couple of monsters fighting," Brilhart noted. "You like Godzilla, Vine?"
"No," Vine said shortly.
"Me either," Brilhart said with a shake of his head. He watched the tapes for a brief moment. "Can you get an i.d. on Parker from those shots?"
"Too damn far away, too dark, too fast, always something," Vine grumbled. "I'll get them cleaned up, though. I'll get a shot. There's gotta be a handful on this tape, and I'll find 'em."
"You remember Roth Hall," Brilhart said. "We lost a lot of cops there."
Vine said nothing, his face set and his eyes glaring at the screen.
"This black thing that he's fighting," Brilhart added. "How do you think we would have captured it? It's a hell of a lot faster than the crocodile thing was. Now it's gone, and it only killed one man. Just one man."
"What are you getting at?" Vine snapped. "Parker is your Special Crimes Unit? Your pet vigilante? Brilhart, do you have any idea how—illegal—stupid—I mean, damn!"
Brilhart leaned over and freeze-framed the tape as a blaze of light screwed up the camera, catching a brief silhouette of the bare-chested fighter as something dark lunged.
"You would send your S.W.A.T. team in to corner that?" he said gently, pointing at the living shadow.
Vine was sullen and silent.
"Aren't you glad," Brilhart said deliberately, "it's not your call?" Vine looked him in the eye. Saw the responsibility for sending men to their deaths.
He looked back at the screen, something different in his eyes. "You're right," he said slowly. He switched the monitor off. "It's not my call."
Brilhart nodded, then went to finish his report.