Peter felt the discomfort in his chest with the change in air pressure during ascent and decent of the aircraft. But he didn't care, he was just simmering in his own misery. Leaving MJ behind and fleeing the city like this, he felt like a pup running away from a beehive with his tail tucked between his legs. He didn't much like the taste of it. The doctor had taken care of all the loose ends and excuses. He gave Aunt May a fathomable excuse, let a relative use Pete's decrepit room for the time he was gone, paying the rent and picked up two weeks worth of assignments from Dr. Connors. Carl stated that he could sit and do all the homework he wanted, he had no problem with that. In fact in encouraged it. It would keep his mind occupied, keep him from doing superhero work, and basically make him sit and remain quiet. But what Peter found harder to digest was the fact that Dr. Jackson was doing all this just because of who he was. No one ever seemed to have appreciated what Spiderman did before. That was probably the only silver lining in this whole mess.

Carl's sister Belle and her husband Judge were waiting at the airport for Peter. He wasn't hard to spot, his arm was still in a sling and he couldn't quite walk upright yet. When they went for the luggage at the conveyor, Judge made sure he grabbed the suitcase first. He didn't want Peter to carry anything. Belle's brother could not impress upon his family how important this kid was to him. She didn't know why, but Belle trusted her older brother, even though she knew that he was holding back. He did elude a little to the possibility that Peter saved his life. But the details were limited. If Carl asked her to make sure this kid took it easy so he could heal, she would do what she could to help him.

Peter watched the flat green landscape blur by as he sat in the back of the SUV. He tried to keep his mind off the pain during the rough ride. Carl wasn't kidding when he said the house was isolated and needed a dirt road to get there. Although the road was in relatively good condition, he could feel all the bumps and jolts through the stiff springs of the 4-wheel drive vehicle. After the two hour plane ride and two hour car ride, he was sore and tired. He just wanted to go to his room and crash.

"Pete," Judge said, "I wish we had a room on the first floor for you, but we do have something right at the top of the stairs for you."

Peter said "thank you," and looked around at the magnificent old Victorian. The first floor consisted of a huge living room with a fireplace to the right of a central hall. To the left was a dining room equally impressive. Beyond that was what looked like a smaller breakfast room. Straight ahead was a grand stairway that led up to the second floor. Judge carried Peter's bag up the stairs motioning him to follow. At the top, the hallway went in either direction. Peter's room was the first one on the right. Even through his misery, he was still able to appreciate his accommodations. The room was about three times the size of his apartment, and he had a private bath.

"Dinner's at 7:00, young man. Feel free to roam around and explore the house and grounds. There is a pool out to the side. The beach is several hundred yards through the woods. You can get there by a path that is wide and well marked. Carl said something about you having homework. We have a library you are welcomed to use. There are some cubies, where you can bury yourself, hidden away from others. We also have two computers in there as well. Uh, I also have a laptop if you want to work outside in the fresh air, but it's my private computer. So don't let the other guests know that. But it's yours if you'd like. If you need anything please just let Belle or me know. We were given strict orders to help you heal."

Judge gave the youth a warm genuine smile and left him to his room. As he watched him leave, Pete wondered how much Carl told his brother-in-law.

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"I'm curious, Hon, what did your brother tell you of that young man?" Judge asked his wife of 26 years.

"Not much. He just wanted to get the boy away from the city. He said that he pushed him to travel a lot sooner than he should have but he really didn't want him to stay up there. Carl did kinda hint about him saving his life. But he was so vague. And you know Carl. If he doesn't want to tell us anything a crowbar isn't going to pry it out of him."

Judge smiled at his wife's perfect analogy of her brother then said, "I wonder if Peter is in trouble. You know, he stuck his nose somewhere it didn't belong. Maybe saved your brother's life like you think. That someone was arrested, maybe is out on bail until the trial and wants to come after Peter. You think?"

Belle lifted her eyebrows and nodded. "Sounds about right. Carl is in an awful neighborhood. But he really didn't want to get into it. All I know is that he couldn't convince me enough that this is a real good kid and to treat him like family."

"Well one thing for sure, he's hurting. Couldn't even straighten up."

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Feeling the wear and tear of the past couple of days, Peter opted to take a nap. Only two days post-op, he was drained. From his disastrous relationship with MJ to the long plane and car ride he was fading fast. The little strength he had built up staying with Dr. Jackson was slowing leeching away. He undressed in the bathroom feeling awkward without his outfit which the doctor held onto 'to keep him from being a superhero'. He glanced in the mirror and winced at the reflection of his body. Bruises get uglier as they get older and his was no exception. He still had the bandage over the wound and incision, but the surrounding tissue was a myriad of rainbow colors.

He reached into his overnight bag and pulled out the supplies Dr. Jackson sent with him. He was told to change the bandage twice a day while it was still seeping. Then daily once the scab formed and it dried out. He picked at the corner of the tape until he could grasp it. Unlike what most people suggest, he wasn't about to rip it off at high speed. He slowly peeled off the bandage ever so thankful he didn't have a hairy chest. He leaned closer to the mirror fingering the incision and hole which were two inches away from each other. He was both fascinated and repulsed at the same time. Grabbing a fresh sterile bandage and the roll of tape, he quickly covered the wound back up. Not wanting to see it anymore he put on a white T. Although Florida was still fairly warm this time of year, he decided to keep at least the undershirt on at all times. Aside from not wanting to scare any of the other people here, he didn't need a reminder of what just happened to him. In fact he was entering the anger phase of the emotional rollercoaster that comes with being shot. He was infuriated that he let it happen, he was mad that someone did it to him, and he was irate that no one seemed to care. All those lives he saved, and most of the city still is afraid of him or hating him. In fact that asshole publisher JJ Jamison was still bashing him even after he rescued his then 'future daughter-in-law'. That thought of MJ just darkened his mood even more.

'Maybe I should just retire down here. Not too many places to swing from' he thought gloomily.

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At 7:10, the 23 guests were sitting scattered among the four tables in the main dining room. Belle was bringing out the food to serve family style when she gave Judge 'the look'. All those years of marriage had fined tuned their communications skills which seemed to only occur with long years together. Without a word uttered, Judge knew what she wanted and went upstairs. He stood outside Peter's door and leaned close to listen. He heard nothing. Rapping lightly with his knuckle he still didn't hear anything. Stealthily he opened the door and peeked in. Peter was sound asleep. Sliding his head back out and just as quietly closing the door, Judge went back downstairs. The silent communiqué from Judge told her everything she needed to know. She told her guests to "Dig in." Judge knew that she would put something aside for the young man in case he came down later, hungry.

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Pete slept fitfully, dreaming of goblins, multi-armed creatures and spiders. At one point MJ filled his sleep, but she turned into an apparition that vanished into mist. He awoke sometime around 1 AM, soaked to the skin, but he thankfully realized he didn't bolt upright in bed. He'd lain awake for a while, then got up and walked around the room. He didn't want leave his confines for fear of waking others. He finally decided to work on the paper that Connors had assigned to him. He concentrated for only about 10 minutes when sleep started to overtake him again. This time he finished the night dreamless.

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"Well Pete, you look like you had a good night's rest. How are you feeling?" Belle asked.

"Pretty good, actually. Thanks."

He looked up at the time and realized that he had slept through breakfast. It was 10 AM. He blushed and was going to act like he wasn't famished because he didn't want to put Belle out. But she knew better, "Pete, what can I get you to eat? You must be ravenous. You haven't eaten since you got here."

"Oh that's ok Mrs. Knapp, you don't have to go…"

"Nonsense!" Belle interrupted. "And please call me Belle, and my husband, Judge. Listen, Peter, you needed sleep more than you needed food last night. Your body is trying to heal. Now, you need nourishment. I have waffle batter already made, do you like them? We bring in our maple syrup all the way from Vermont."

Peter nodded, the saliva in his mouth already forming.

Later that morning, as Peter passed through the hallway out to the pool he overheard Belle on the phone. "Yes, he looks much better today. Sending him down here was the best thing you could have done for him. He'll be as good as new when we send him back up."

There was a pause, "Hurricane? No, it's supposed to hit Louisiana, not here. Don't worry, we won't let anything happen to your precious charge. One of these days you are going to tell us, aren't you?"

Another pause, "Love ya, tell everyone we all say hello."

Peter smiled a little. Maybe he was wrong, maybe some people really do care. It felt good to have someone fret over him, someone who worried just because he was Spiderman.

Out by the pool Peter took advantage of the offer to use Judge's laptop and worked on his paper. Even though he was trying to concentrate on the assignment he felt like he was being watched. He was definitely very insecure about his appearance even taking off his sling while he sat and worked. He wondered if others could see the deep bruising and a bandage beneath the thin undershirt. Periodically he would look up because he thought people were staring at him, but he was mistaken. Most of the adults were too busy watching their youngsters splashing around in the pool. He shook his head, he has got to stop being so self conscious. Down here in Florida, he was plain old Peter Parker, nerd, book worm.

The water was inviting, and it was hot out, especially with the shirt on, but he didn't think it would be a good idea to get his wounds wet. Besides, since he couldn't take the bandage off yet, the idea of having a soaking wet diaper-absorbing thing on his chest was nauseating. So he just sat in the sun and continued his research.

A shadow crept over his paper and he looked up. "Hi, my name's Deanna," the shadow said.

"Um, hi," was all that Pete said. He sat there with his mouth open. Before him stood someone of the same age as he, but definitely of the fairer sex. A lithe figure, complete with a tan and French bikini, held his attention before he looked up towards the face. Whereas her shadow covered his paper, it did not reach his eyes and he looked straight up into the sun. She must have realized he couldn't see with the sun behind her, so she moved ever so slightly allowing her shadow to fall across his face. What he saw took his breath away. She was an adorable brunette, her hair cut in a fun loving short crop. She had a small ski-jump nose and large dark brown eyes.

"Usually when someone introduces themselves, the courtesy is returned," she said a little miffed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Peter Parker. Please have a seat," he said as he waved to the open chaise beside him.

"Watcha studying?"

"Nanophysics," he replied.

"Huh?"

"It's the study of the nanotechnology of physics. You know, subatoms and microns and stuff," he explained with a hint of sarcasm. He thought, 'sometimes it's hard being so smart.'

"Oh. Are you one of those nerdy types?" she asked innocently.

He sighed deeply. 'She should be blond' he thought, 'but still she was pretty to look at. Maybe she can help take my mind off of MJ.'

"Kinda," he answered.

"It's so hot out here, why don't you take your shirt off?" she asked noticing the sheen of sweat around his face.

"Uh, um…..I would rather not," he said blushing slightly.

"Well then, how about a dip in the water? It's ok to get your shirt wet isn't it?"

"I really shouldn't get wet right now. I'm recovering from surgery," he said, when he failed to think of a more viable excuse.

"Surgery? What for?"

"I, um, fell."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Gee, you don't talk much. Look around, we are the only two people of our generation here. I was kinda hoping we could chat and get to know each other. It'll be better than talking to the old foggie sisters over there," she said nodding in the direction of the three very elderly women. "Or chatting with little kids," and she nodded in the direction of three families with a plethora of kids splashing in the pool.

He looked at his fellow vacationers and realized she was right. "You've got a point there. I'm sorry. I've been a little down since my accident. Would you like to take a walk?" he offered.

"Sure."

Peter and Deanna found the path to the Gulf and walked it slowly. The chatter was mindless, shallow chit chat. She spoke of her favorite rock group, Velvet Revolver, and the diet that she was perpetually on even though Peter couldn't see why she was dieting. She had a gorgeous figure. At one point she looked up and asked what the large 'nuts' were near the top of the palm trees. He answered, "coconuts."

"I thought they were small, round and brown? Those things are huge."

"What you are thinking of you see in the grocery store, right? Those up there are the same things, but there is a 2 inch thick fibrous covering around the hard shell. It's a wonder anybody ever figured out you could eat them." Peter said nonchalantly.

"I have never had real coconut, just the flaky stuff from a jar," she confessed.

Peter hesitated, "You know, I don't think I have ever had fresh coconut either. But I don't think they are ripe yet. I don't see any that have fallen to the ground."

When they reached the beach they noticed the water was a dark grey and very rough. For the Gulf that was highly unusually as it is normally quieter than the ocean. There was no one else around. The shoreline was deserted.

"C'mon Peter, let's go swimming!" she called and ran into the water.

"I can't Deanna. I'm not supposed to go swimming with my injury," he called back. But she didn't hear him, she was already too far out.

He watched her nervously as she was being carried quickly away by the current. She didn't realize it, being from Kansas. They don't have an ocean there. He came from NY and was just a hop away from Jones Beach. He knew more about riptides and undertows than she did. "Deanna, you're getting too far out," he yelled.

When she heard Peter, she apparently agreed with him and started to head back for shore, but with each stroke, she found herself getting pulled further out. "Peter, I can't get in!" she cried and doubled her swimming efforts.

"Dammit," he thought. He looked around and saw a lifeguard stand every 200 feet. They were all deserted because the larger beaches usually got the few remaining lifeguards at this time of year. There wasn't another soul around just lifesaver-rings hanging on poles every 50 feet. And Peter was definitely not strong enough to swim in this kind of water alone, never mind trying to rescue someone.