Louise turned around in her seat and asked, "What's wrong?"

Closing her door slightly and looking back at Louise, MJ hesitated, "Oh, uh… I didn't realize how messy my room was and I think Peter is coming over tonight. Didn't mean to startle you."

"Gee, the way you sounded I thought there was a huge spider sitting in the middle of your bed or something." Then realizing what she just said about spiders, apologized, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

But it fell on deaf ears as MJ entered into her room and quickly shut the door. She stood there in shock. She pinched herself to see if she was dreaming. It hurt so she guessed that she wasn't. Could this be a hallucination brought on by devastating grief? She just stared at what was in front of her. Little did Louise know how close she came to the truth.

Spiderman laid face down across her bed. His eyes were closed. His hair was damp and disheveled and his mask was on the floor by the window. She quickly knelt on the bed and leaned over him, "Peter?"

When she didn't get a response, she gently took hold of his left shoulder and rolled him onto his back. Reacting to the pain, he hissed out a half muffled scream and grabbed at his wound with his right hand. She covered his mouth with her hand and looked towards the door, listening. But the music that Louise was listening to must have muted the sound. Turning back to Peter, who was still not fully conscious, she saw for the first time the blood on his chest and the large red stain on her bedspread.

"Oh my God, Pete, I'm so sorry. I didn't know." Pausing to look at the injury, she said, "We need to get you to a hospital," and she reached for her cell phone. But she never got the call out as he grabbed the phone from her hands.

"No hospital," he whispered coarsely.

"Peter, you have to go. You can go as yourself. We'll make up something, like a drive by shooting," she argued knowing all gun shot wounds are reported to the police.

He simply shook his head, 'no'. Then after a pause he murmured, "Too complicated. The police will eventually figure out it was a lie."

MJ thought about it and realized he was right. They would have to come up with a location where it happened, a time and some sort of evidence, like his blood or a bullet casing. And the police would want to know what they were doing in that area when the crime occurred and of course there are usually witnesses. It was too complicated. Then suppose they do catch some poor fellow who fits the description that she made up?

Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of a reasonable excuse. Then she brightened, "You're a student at the college where the sniper hit. Why can't we just say you were one of his victims, too?"

At first she thought that maybe he had passed out because he was so quiet and his eyes were closed. But then he answered hoarsely, "So why would you be bringing me in now, instead of me going in an ambulance that was probably sitting there waiting to transport us victims? It's been over 8 hrs since the shooting. Why did I wait so long? And then shouldn't my clothing have a bullet hole and blood on it? Well I guess we can fake that. But when the cops finish their investigation, they're going to know exactly where everybody was when they were shot. What am I going to say, I was on top of the gateway?" He snorted at that remark which sent him into a spasm of coughing. That in turn shot fire throughout his chest from the wound. He fisted a wad of bedspread and bit down on it to hold in the scream.

MJ, worried, waited until the pain subsided a bit. But then frustration started to seep in and she screamed in a whisper, "Ok, everyone knows that Spiderman was shot. The whole world knows he was shot. It's spattered all over the news. So what's wrong with going to the hospital as Spiderman?"

"I need surgery. They are not going to keep my mask on during that, and even if I can persuade them to, it will be a media circus. Someone will get to me there, either to unmask me or kill me."

"And maybe having a media circus isn't a bad thing. Think of all the security it will invoke."

He looked at her, "You're not serious?"

Realizing the danger in having the media find him, she shook her head 'no', "But we've got to do something. I'm not going to stand by and watch you bleed to death all over my bed," she said getting very irritated.

Peter turned his head and looked over at the large blood stain he had caused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your bedspread. I really shouldn't even be here." He forced himself up to a sitting position and scooted over to the edge of the bed. He rested a moment then tried to stand up.

Harsher than she planned, she pushed him back to sitting, "I'm not worried about the blood stain, idiot! I'm worried about you!" Then she plopped herself down next to him and in a softer tone, asked, "Is there any doctor you have saved in the past that might be grateful enough to help?"

He shook his head, "I never hung around long enough to socialize."

They sat side by side in silence, Mary Jane trying to think of a solution to the problem and Peter fading. He was starting to lean on her as the little strength he had continued to drain away. Suddenly MJ got up off the bed and he started to topple over. Even though he stopped his fall with his good arm, the jolt still radiated across to his bad shoulder. He uttered softly, "Owwww" as he righted himself. MJ came back quickly with a book and sat back down next to him. He looked at the large book on her lap. It took him a second through the brain fog to realize what it was, and then he looked up at her, "You kept a scrapbook of me?"

He saw her blush and a small smile creased her face, "Yeah."

She started to flip furiously though all the pages back and forth. Her frustration showing, she turned the pages ruthlessly, almost tearing some of them. "I know I saw it in here somewhere."

She fanned the pages roughly forwards, then back. "Where is it?" she said angrily.

Peter just sat there, light headed, watching her man-handle the book. He was jolted back into focus when she yelled, "Here!"

He watched as she ran her hand across the words and she mumbled to herself reading them. "Here, here, I knew I read it somewhere," she said jabbing the print with her finger. She then read to him what she found, "Let's see, Spiderman saved..yadda, yadda, yadda, uh, Dr. Carl Jackson wanted to thank Spiderman for saving his life, but the webslinger had already disappeared. He was quoted as saying, 'Spiderman, I hope you read this and get my message. If ever you are in need of a doctor, I am here anytime, day or night, no questions asked.' The reporter asked if he was serious, and the doctor acknowledged that he was dead serious. There's more, but that's all we need to know."

MJ looked up, "There, you see, you DID save a doctor and he wants to help." she said triumphantly.

Peter just sat there cradling his injured arm. He was wary of the proposition but he seriously needed help. "Suppose it's a trick or a ploy to get media attention?"

"It's a clinic, Pete, in a not-so-nice part of town. I doubt it. Besides, they get all sorts of people without real names or addresses. We can blend in there. You keep your outfit on under your clothes except your mask. When we get there I'll give a false name, then when we're alone with the doctor, I'll grill him. You can make the decision at that point."

Peter just nodded. He didn't have enough energy to argue anymore. It was either that or bleed to death all over MJ's bed.

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They sat rocking quietly in the car, the lights periodically blinking off as the subway hit dead areas. MJ scanned the few other people in there as Peter leaned against her, head on her shoulder. He was wearing a coat with the collar up, and a baseball cap pulled way down over his eyes. You could see very little of his face. But she wanted to make sure that no one was scrutinizing them. She was very worried about her fiancé. When she would periodically brush a lock of hair off his face, she could feel how cold and clammy he was.

"You still with me, Tiger?"

He just nodded 'yes'.

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The bus was crowded, but luckily there was a seat left. She led Peter to it and he just about crumbled into it. She stood next to him holding onto the center bar. She ignored the glares he got from people who still thought a man should stand and let the woman sit. No way was she going to have Peter stand in such an unsteady environment. He couldn't even stand on solid ground for more than a minute much less a moving bus for 10.

She leaned down close to his face and whispered, "Do you think you can walk three blocks?"

He just nodded 'yes'.

She pulled the cord to signal their stop and when the bus halted, Peter stiffly got up, hissing under his breath. She supported him under his good arm and they headed towards the door. She heard whispers of '…not a gentlemen' and '..whatever happened to manners" as they exited. It just made her steam, and she wanted to go back onto that bus and tell them just who that was and why he sat down. But she bit her tongue and walked away, head up.

When she looked in the direction they were headed, it was probably going to be the longest walk she had ever taken. Aside from the fact there are no blocks bigger than a NY City block, this was not the safest neighborhood. Being November, the sun was gone even though it was still early in the evening. She hoped, the worst of the nasties weren't out and about yet.

"How are you holding up, Pete?" she asked after the first block.

"How much further?" he responded.

"Two more of these blocks."

Pete stopped, looked around the neighborhood and decided that sitting down to rest was not an option. "I guess I have to hold up."

Peter's Spider sense had been dulled by the trauma, he didn't get warned until it was too late. Two men walked out in front of the couple and blocked their path. "Oh, great," was all Peter could say.

"Well, ain't she the pretty one?" Peter heard one of them say. The other just laughed. Peter was trying to think through his cloud enshrouded brain when one of the men went after MJ. The other went after him. Pete was in no condition walk, nevermind fight, but he readied himself as the thug came at him. He was able to duck under the first punch aimed at his face, but the second one landed in his midsection. A flash of blinding light from the pain overwhelmed Pete and he fell back. Through the haze, not caring about his identity anymore he sent a rock hard ball of webbing at his assailant and knocked him out cold. He was about to do the same for the one who went after MJ, but found out he didn't need to.

This is New York. Most women know self defense and MJ was no exception. No, she wasn't a 10th degree black belt in anything, but she had taken a few self defense courses. Enough for her to handle one unprepared man. A well placed kick followed immediately by her knee and her assailant was down. She quickly looked for the other one and saw that he was taken care of as well. She turned towards Peter and saw him writhing on the ground clutching his chest.

"Pete, c'mon, we only have two more blocks to go. You can do it." And she bent over to help him up. Giving him a minute to collect him she said jokingly, "Where's Spiderman when you need him?"

"Peter smiled at the joke and said, "Let's not hang around any longer than we have to." Cradling his left arm, he continued walking with his love beside him.

By the end of the second block, Peter was using MJ as a support. By the end of the third block he was glad the clinic was in sight. They entered the small building and were surprised at the cleanliness. There were a few other patients in the waiting room and MJ guided Peter to a chair farthest from anywhere. He kept his head down and his coat collar up. She went up to the nurse and gave a false name and address then sat down next to Peter, waiting to be seen.

"What did you tell her?" he asked.

"I told her you were Tommy Spinne."

"Where did you get that name from?"

"I pulled Tommy out of the air, Spinne is German for spider," she said with a smile.

He managed a weak smile, "Good one".

During their wait MJ noticed that the clinic could be redecorated to look like an old fashion western saloon that you see in the movies. All along the back wall there was an open landing on the second floor. There was a handrail to keep anyone from falling onto the reception desk. On the first floor beyond reception were several rooms and a hallway leading straight back. She assumed that the hallway led to several other rooms and possibly a back door. Upstairs behind the railing a few more closed doors were visible. She couldn't even guess what was behind those doors. Maybe homeless people who needed a night to stay after seeing the doctor? Who knows. She noticed that the hallway on the first floor was not repeated on the second, however the open hallway upstairs continued beyond the waiting room walls. So not all those rooms were visible to the patients downstairs.

After about ½ hour of waiting, they heard, "Spinne, the doctor will see you now."