"Aunt May!" Peter screamed as he sat bolt upright. He froze for a moment, then realized what he just done. Again. Groaning deeply, he reached up to his chest. "I've really got to stop doing that," he said out loud. Mary Jane was by his side in a second. Did you have another nightmare?" she asked him as she gently lowered him back onto the bed.

Peter shook his head, "Yes, well no, it's just that I realized that I am going to have trouble explaining this to Aunt May. I was supposed to help her out tonight with packing. How am I going to hide this from her?"

"I don't know, Pete, but we'll think of something. We can work on that in the morning. You still haven't gotten more than an hour of sleep at one time and you really should be sleeping through the night," she said tiredly.

"MJ, I'm really sorry about all this." Peter said apologetically. "I really didn't mean to put you through all this stress. I'm…"

MJ's tone changed as she said, "Pete, shut up and go back to sleep. I'm not up for talking about anything right now. I have a new play opening up tomorrow night and I need to get some sleep. We'll talk about this in the morning." Mary Jane's counter was in vain as Peter had already drifted back off to sleep. The rigors of the day took its toll on him. It was also taking its toll on her. She hoped that he would sleep peacefully the rest of the night. She needed him to so that she could get some rest.

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The sun was pouring in as Peter awoke. He lay perfectly still and realized that he was not sitting up in bed cussing that it was not a good thing to do. Something he was thankful for. He looked over and saw that the sofa bed was already folded back up and there was no sign of MJ. He slowly and carefully started to get out of bed when Dr. Jackson walked in.

"What did I tell you about bed rest, Peter?" the doctor scowled.

Blushing a little he answered, "I just needed to use the facilities."

Now it was the doctor's turn to blush. "Oh, uh, do you need help?"

"No, a 10 foot stroll is a piece of cake compared to what I have been doing the past day or so." Pete said with a smile trying to make light of the situation. "By the way, have you seen Mary Jane?"

"She wanted to be here when you woke up, but she said she really needed to go to the rehearsal. Apparently tomorrow is her opening night. She'd hoped you understand."

"Understand?" Pete shook his head. "With all of the no shows I have given her, she hoped I understand?"

Once Peter made it back to bed, Carl (Dr. Jackson) brought him a bowl of soup. "Nothing fancy, just canned soup. Hope you like vegetable."

"Vegetable is just fine. You know I really don't know how to thank you." Pete said.

With a laugh, the doctor said, "Thank me? Peter my dear boy, this is my way of thanking you. You know there are many different cultures that believe once you save a man's life, his spirit is yours forever. And that's true. Everything I do, good or bad, is a direct result of your action to save my life. I hope I don't disappoint you or ever give you reason to regret that."

Peter sat stunned. He had never thought about it that way. And no one ever really thanked him quite so eloquently like that either. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so he stuffed a spoonful of soup into it instead.

"I usually have my patients up and about the next day but after your shenanigans last night I want you to stay in bed the rest of the day. If you're feeling up to it, you can come downstairs after hours this evening and join me for supper in the kitchen," the doctor invited.

Peter nodded and continued to eat. After a few more spoonfuls he suddenly looked about worried, "Where's my outfit?"

"MJ has it. That will guarantee that you don't go playing superhero on me," the doctor said giving Peter a stern look.

The young man just looked down at his soup a while before continuing to eat. When he finished half a bowl, he put it aside. Dr. Jackson had stayed with him and he seemed to want to say more. Pete just sat in bed waiting until the doctor was ready. He didn't wait long.

"In the short time that I have known you, I have learned a little bit about you. And one of those things is that you will never watch out for yourself as long as someone else is in trouble. Peter," and he paused a long while, "I took the liberty of buying you a ticket to Florida." Carl signaled to Pete to keep quiet. Sitting in silence for a moment still gathering his thoughts he went on, "My sister and her husband own a Bed and Breakfast on the Gulf that is secluded. In fact you need a 4 wheel drive vehicle to navigate the dirt roads leading up to there. No big cities, no tall buildings for you to swing from," he said looking at him with a slight smile. "Just warm sunshine and a quiet atmosphere. I told them you were coming down. You leave tomorrow."

Wide eyed, all Peter could say was, "NO".

There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence.

It was Peter who spoke first. "I need to see MJ's new play. My aunt is expecting me over to help pack. What about my classes? I can't lose my job either, I need to pay rent." He stopped for a moment trying to think of more reasons why he couldn't go down to Florida.

The doctor rebutted, "You trusted me enough to keep your secret, now trust my medical judgment. New York needs you which is why you need to be healed 100. Imagine your encounters with the Green Goblin or Doc Ock in you present condition." There was a well placed break before he continued. "Peter, you're a very special person. Can't you see we can't live without you? That's why you must heal. Take advantage of the fact that the city thinks you're dead. Take the forced vacation."

"I can't leave."

"Why not?" the doctor demanded.

Pete sat in silence. How could he explain to him that just one life lost because he wasn't there, was one too many. He already tried to quit and crime rose 75. He found that people had put their faith in him. He can't let them down. He also feared leaving MJ just now. Her play will lock her here in the city while he was thousands of miles away. He really didn't know how she felt about the whole incident and needed to talk to her about it. He had never been this seriously injured before and he was worried about her reaction.

But all he said to Carl was, "It's complicated."

"You think about…" Dr. Jackson's sentence was cut short by a commotion downstairs. He quickly got up and left. Peter being Peter got up and followed although at a lot slower pace. He made it to the bottom of the stairs just in time to see a junkie, who was high on PCP, knock the good doctor down. Peter quickly vaulted over and slammed the head of the assaulter against the wall, putting a dent in the sheetrock. Even though it didn't knock him out, the bump on the head seemed to have knocked the fight out of the patient.

From out of nowhere a big burly man in a white suit took hold of the junkie and brought him into one of the exam rooms, while the doctor grabbed Peter's arm and dragged him into the office closing the door. "That's what I'm talking about Peter!" he yelled. "You didn't need to save me. I have a relative who is on the payroll to handle the rough patients. You haven't even been out of surgery 24 hours and you have already played the superhero twice." The doctor looks at the bandage on Pete's chest, "Damn, you're bleeding. Now get back upstairs to bed. I will have a nurse come up in a few minutes to change the dressing and take a look at the damage you just did to yourself."

Dr. Jackson stormed out of his office.

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Peter was lying in bed. How could he tell the doctor why he couldn't go? Suppose people died because he was gone. If he hadn't stopped that train, look how many people would be dead now. Suppose Dr. Jackson is burgled again while he is away? Couldn't he make the physician see that he can't leave?

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Mary Jane had a two hour break that afternoon and she dreaded what she had to do. Last night in between Peter's abrupt awakenings, she had lain away unable to get to sleep. Starting up at the ceiling all night, digesting the horrors of the past 24 hours, she felt completely drained. She was moving towards a decision she didn't want to make.

Now from the plethora of tears and the lack of sleep, her face was puffy and her eyelids felt like they were lined with sandpaper. Her rehearsal went poorly because she couldn't concentrate on anything. The director threatened to pull her from opening night if she didn't get a good night sleep and improve her appearance and attention. But visions of her husband-to-be, falling to his death, kept replaying over and over in her mind like some bizarre cult video.

Louise easily noticed the problems her friend was having and asked what was wrong. MJ decided to mix the story to fit the situation. She said that she was hit with a double whammy yesterday. After she heard the news of Spiderman she found out that Peter was seriously hurt in a fall. She spent the night in the hospital with him.

As she walked away from the theatre, she replayed what she needed to tell Peter. This was not an impulsive decision she was making. She has been thinking heavily about this for the past 24 hours. It hasn't left her mind. This was something she had to do.

Her feet felt like they were encased in lead weights as she climbed the clinic stairs. The doctor was busy with other patients so the receptionist told her to go right on up. Standing outside his room, she waited before slowly opening the door. She didn't want to wake him if he was still asleep. She was surprised however to see him looking over at her as if he was expecting her to walk through that door at that very minute.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi, yourself. You're looking pretty good, how're you feeling?" she asked wanting to get situated a little before breaking the news. She didn't want to just enter and blurt it out.

She sat on the bed next to him and kissed him softly. What he said next caught her off guard. "Something's wrong. What is it?"

It must have been the kiss. They say you can't hide anything from a kiss. She had hoped not do it as soon as she walked in the room but here was the opening. She squared herself on the bed so that both her legs hung over the side and her back was to him. Her hands were on her lap playing with the hem of her shirt as she tried to collect the words that she wanted to say to him.

"I don't know where to start. But do know one thing, Pete. I love you. And when I ended up in your doorway on my wedding day, I meant what I said, that I couldn't live without you. I feel it more now than ever."

Peter was getting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

She continued, "But when I saw you die, I died too. In those few short hours before I found you alive, I contemplated ending my own." She looked at him, looked deep into his pained eyes. "I never fathomed what it really meant to be Spiderman's girlfriend/fiancé/wife." She paused for a long time, her voice starting to crack. "I'm sorry Peter, but I can't be with you anymore."

"No!" Peter yelled and sat bolt upright. But this time, he didn't feel the throbbing in his chest. The pain in his heart was overshadowing it.

"Let me finish," she said. "When I saw you plunge into the river, my world came crashing in on me. I always thought you were invincible. Sure you got banged up but I never really believed that you could die. Until yesterday."

She had turned away staring at her hands again, taking a deep breath before continuing, "Peter, my producer found out even before his play opened, that several backers want to take it on the road. He asked if I would be interested." Her hands were trembling. It took a long time for the words to come out. He voice wavered as she said, "I'm going to tell him 'yes'."

Peter anxiously put his hand on her shoulder, "But MJ I didn't die, I'm still…"

She continued, not listening to him, "When the tour is over, I am going to stay out in LA and try my luck in movies. That way, I will always just be separated away from you, at least in my mind. I won't be subjected to the daily bouts you have with death. And hopefully I won't learn about it either. Never again can I go through what I just went through yesterday. I would rather be permanently separated from you and remember you alive, than be your widow. She leaned over and kissed him.

On the cheek.

She got up, went to the dresser and put a red and blue object in one of the drawers, turned and walked out.

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Later that evening, Peter told Carl that he would go to Florida.